As part of the Ghosts: Disappearing Histories project we ran creative writing workshops across Manchester UK. In this free eBook you'll find a selection of the writing produced by workshop participants on the subject of the black owned clubs in Manchester and what they meant to the community.
Manchester books by Manchester writers.
Excerpt:
Bleaching My Skin. by Tashia Tauzeni
The celebrating had started and I was so proud to have said that I was part of that ceremony. I was holding the big, shiny and bold star which represented us blacks being bright and different.
But when I was holding that star I started to think about the following year, if my life would be better or it would be exactly the same.
The dancing girls had started to get my attention I wanted to come in and join them but apparently I wasn’t allowed to wear a mini skirt. Everyone was cheering on the parade and it was such a phenomenal feeling to see that some whites where there in the crowd cheering for the freedom of blacks. I don’t know if the people in the south are having as much luck as we are right now in the North West.
Problems started happening after this day. I tried to get a nice home for myself because I wanted to start a family but all they had in stock for me seemed to look exactly like the sewer. I took it anyway thinking that when I get a reasonable job I’ll be able to pimp it up a little bit. When I was young wanted to be a doctor but my teacher told me to give up on my dream that no-one of my colour would get that kind of occupation. He told me I could be a singer, a dancer or a runner. I wanted to prove him wrong so I set off to find the job with my name on it. Every hospital I went to and asked for a job just laughed in my face and threw me out.
I wonder if you can bleach your skin. I’m tired of being black my family tells me to start being proud of who I am but I’m not. I bought that skin changer lotion but I doesn’t seem to work I‘m still black after 3 weeks of bleaching not one single change to my skins I was so disappointed.
Then my skin started to get light patches and I tried to get my skin even again. I looked in the mirror and I would not recognise myself anymore. I am changing from Orewa Fefe Olawafakumi to Toby Barret. I started to think I should not change what God created me as. I should be proud of who I am and not change for any one. Started to cry in the damp of my bed. I would have loved to be in my mum’s arm again.