The connection between my identity as a Black woman and my relationship with my hair goes deep. It means acknowledging the history of my hair and why perms and wigs even exist as hair styling options.

It was too late. We had tasted sin and seen that the repercussions were unclear and improbable.

Then I heard blog posts made money for writers. Like every click they got converted to money, like Linda Ikeji's blog. “When Google Ads enter your blog like this, you will blow.” So I tried blogging. I didn’t blow. 

I was a simple child then. Intelligent, but simple. I knew I wasn’t like most boys my age. I didn’t like football, nor did I enjoy fighting. I was called a girl so much I’m surprised it didn’t become a nickname.

I was surprising even myself with all this wisdom. I guess beauty has a way of bringing out the best things in us.

I wanted to say I wasn't a big girl. I was only eleven years old! Eleven was still a child.

But specially, I pray for the people of Malawi especially those of Mtengowathenga parish, whom I cannot wait to see again.