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Your Skin Colour Counts

Like majority of the dark-skinned people, I too, am obsessed with the colour white. Somehow, I believe that white hides all your inherent flaws and makes you stand out in a crowd of blacks. Just like a tall person doesn’t have to do much to attract attention.

Height and colour naturally gives you an edge over others without much effort, really.

Years ago, I recall as a child, my teachers thought I was too light skinned to be punished. Not that I required punishment often, but because even with my brown skin, I stood out among the dark-skinned people of Uganda in Africa.

As I grew up, I realised that due to my skin colour I could get away with many things. It kind of gave me an edge over my class fellows. I was hardly ever scolded, and was also nominated as the head girl whereas my dark-skinned intelligent classmates received top-class corporal punishment even for a small mistake. I later learnt that my teachers excused me because of my skin colour. It appeared to them that I was an asset and something to be associated with proudly.

These were the years after Idi Amin, the tyrant ruler of Uganda had just been exiled. Uganda was at war with neighbouring Tanzania and I still fondly recall the handsome Libyans rolling down the roads in tanks. We survived the war and stayed put in Uganda partly because there was no safe exit and partly because we were hardly left with any personal resources after being looted.

Luckily for us, the brown-skinned people (muindis) as the Ugandans called us in their native tongue Luganda, all the white-skinned people (muzungus) had been extradited by their governments for security reasons and many of them did not return for years later until political stability had returned to the country.

The absence of muzungus was what made the muindis popular among the natives. With no comparisons with the fair-skinned, we become the apple of the eyes of the Ugandans. They sought to be and were proud to be our friends as they conceived us to be an intelligent and a wealthier race.

And in my childhood foolishness, I grew up thinking that this was really true. The proud bubble burst when I bid adieu to the country after 15 years and moved back to Pakistan. It was there I realised that I was the queen who had actually given up her throne. My college friends in Pakistan thought I had come from a jungle. It was then that I became obsessed with white. I noticed that my fair-skinned friends, even the dumbest, somehow, managed to steal the limelight.

Trying all tactics, I resorted to whitening creams, which sometimes brought a glow and at times, left traces of chemical abuse on my skin. Alas!! Years later, I am as brown-skinned as ever… However, I had learnt my lesson. I pushed my bruised ego and channelled my negative energies to achieve positivity in my educational and professional life.

In the UAE, my already diminishing ego got a further beating. My top-class education and years of long professional experience did not stand a chance since it was my colour that was competing with different skin hues and tones.

Using the little intelligence that my race has been bestowed with, I soon realised that once again, my skin colour, nationality and national dress (in this country) would supremely outshine my other qualities.

On that note, I wonder why the world proudly calls Barack Obama the first black president of the USA. He isn’t completely black, as we all know. His mother was white.

I have finally learnt to believe that fair, olive, sallow, brown, dark brown and black is what the ratio of your personal and professional success is based upon in many parts of the world. After all, I have personally experienced it.

Asma Ali Zain can be reached at
asmaalizain@khaleejtimes.com