Kiwa
They call her ‘kiwa’
She cries when they do
They say she isn’t black enough
She is coloured like honey
They laugh when she speaks
She sounds different to them
They frown when she smiles
She has crooked big teeth
They call her fat as she blooms
Her breasts filling out, hips coming out
They call her caramel
She smiles when they do
They ask her why her hair coils
She straightens it more often
They fuss over her long braids
She plays with them when she talks
They tell her she is a lucky one
She isn’t dark like the others
They say she is the pretty one
It brings sadness to her eyes
Today she wears her crown kinky
Coils, braids, beads and all
Today she speaks loudly
Unashamed to sound different
Today she walks proudly
Hips swinging from side to side
Today she clicks her mother tongue boldly
It doesn’t matter what accent comes out
Today she is whole, she is peaceful
Living in her honey coloured skin