By Tearz Ayuen
It is inarguable that girls or women who bleach skin are those that are suffering from low self-esteem. They are cheap. So cheap.
Cheap females are those who always want to please every man, any man. Frog man. Hyena man. They always want to be said to be beautiful even when they are not. They flash a smile at any man, any time. Anywhere.
They are gullible. The word NO does not exist in their dictionary. They take anything placed before them. They don’t question; they never scrutinize. That is why they believe that, to be considered beautiful, one must be light-skinned or purely white.
They are not contented with what they are, who they are. If you are not comfortable in your own skin, if you don’t appreciate the skin color the creator gave you, one of the elements you are identified with – to an extent of arming yourself with chemicals to terrorize it, then you are insane. You’re sick. Seek a psychiatrist.
It is an indirect message that you are a trash, a bin. Anybody can use you as a dump site. You lose respect.
Be informed, beauty is never determined by the color of skin. What counts is the physique; face, eye size, legs, waist, dental formula, mouth size, etc. You may be as white as an Irish but if you have feet that look like those of a goat and a face that looks like a chicken’s, never shall you be seen as beautiful. Never.
“Skin terrorists” may not be prostitutes in your city but in mine, they are. My city is Juba. Wherever they come from, whatever school they went to in Kenya, Uganda, Sudan or Egypt, the school motto must have been “Bleach, Attract Men, Make Money.” Nothing else.
I am not referring to nationals of the aforementioned countries; I am talking about South Sudanese young girls, prostitutes. Let’s call them Lolitas.
In school, they never took learning seriously. They were there for prestige, for fun. “Oh I am in St. this. Oh I’m in St. that.” That’s it. All they focused on was boy-girl relationship. They spent most of their time practicing the contents of Mexican soap operas.
After four years of doing nothing in high school, they graduate with Es. Some do not even graduate. They just drop out.
While at home (Eldoret, Nakuru, Nairobi, Kampala. Etc), they hear of interesting stories about Juba. They begin to understand the meaning of a diva, the importance of financial independence – independent woman.
They get to know about “mur-dih.” Murdih is Dinka for vagina, my vagina. In this context, it means a car. A car gotten through sex money.
After getting all these ideas, they move to Juba where they launch “Operation Buy Mur-dih.” OBM in short. It involves a lot of things. Name change is the first thing they put into practice. Followed by skin lightening. The looks of other body organs are also changed, temporarily.
Let’s talk about breasts. After years of playing sex game with niggas, the chest becomes flat again. They are called folded chapattis. And to attract those rich sex maniacs in Juba, a girl resorts to redesigning her bust. She manages that with the help of sponge and bra. She pushes those useless teats up the throat, making breathing difficult. She be choking herself. That’s why when she finally arrives in her Tukul during wee morning hours, she unties the load and says, under her breath: “Uh thank you, Lord. At least I can breathe again, with ease.”
The name change idea is aimed at confusing men. Today, she introduces herself as Angelina Jolie. Tomorrow she is Nicki Minaj. Yesterday she was Keyshia Cole.
You should see them in night clubs hunting men, stalking them. From one social place to another, they move in groups of twos or threes. You barely see them remove cash from their handbags. I don’t know why but I think they never have enough money to spend on drinks as they spend the little they get on hairdo, foods and cosmetics.
The smart ones do not roam the night aimlessly; they await deals from rich men who call them up to show up in private posh hotel rooms in town.
The other group which comprises of woman – single mothers – gatecrashes big government functions, cocktail parties. You can never fail to notice them. They are the loud ones. With “Bakur” smeared all over the body, one can never part without asking for her number. That scent is so tempting, brother.
Besides the self-degrading act, apart from the mental slavery they portray, bleaching brings about a lot of side effects. It weakens the skin. It makes it vulnerable to a number of first class diseases. Cancer tops the list. You know what that means.
According to medical research, skin terrorists also develop increased appetite. Just imagine that. Who would want to get married to an avaricious girl? A gluttonous food-loving woman in this bad economy? The one who goes to KFC and buys chicken in bulk, goes home and eats it up in the bedroom?
Bareness is another side effect of bleaching. How many barren young women do you know of today? – A lot, I guess. Try and memorize if they ever used creams.
Finally, bleaching is another way of supporting science projects run by inhumane greedy American and European scientists. Look, one man manufactures the cream. A woman buys and uses it. After some times, the cream gives birth to cancer. Then another man goes on TV and says he’s got the cure for cancer. Now, you move from hospital to hospital looking for affordable drugs. All you do is buying. Do you see the trap you get yourself into?
Tearz©2013
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