I am marginalised and so are you.

As long as you are thrown into the Whiteman’s education system, you are marginalised.

At the tender age of 3-6 years old, my parents gave me away to be shaped by the Whiteman’s ‘time and ideology’ towards doing everything.

At home I eat the white man’s food; rice, beef, biscuit and tea. Surrounded by Whiteman’s equipment; radio, mobile phones, and laptops including the TV set. I live in a European built house.

And another thing, “Oh, this is both scary and interesting,” I am also worshiping and loving the Whiteman’s God.

No wonder why I can easily adjust when Europeans have contacts with me.

That is why I can easily adapt just after weeks of being in the Whiteman’s homeland; Australia, New Zealand or England.

How do you expect me not to act like the white man?

Why are you surprised when most women now days are no longer competent in doing the so called household chores, women’s chores?

They now expect boys and men to help cook the food, sweep around the house, wash plates, wash clothes and even baby sit which is exactly what Europeans are doing.

And you know what? Because of such arrangements is one of the many reasons Europeans develop faster. No division of labour.

But we are driving far from the main idea of the purpose of this writing.

Our skins may be black but inside, we are all europeanised.

That is why to me, when going to my home province for Christmas, I do not really feel belong. I can’t wait to get back to town. It makes me wonder, is the village home really my home? I go there to spend only 1% of my time every year. Where do I really belong anyway?

My place is here, in the urban centres, inside, this is where I am familiar with, where I feel belong.

My skin is chocolate colour or black, but inside I am bloody as good as the Whiteman which leads me to acknowledge, how much more “oketa younger generation ya”. Oh wait, yes, the computer or digital generation.

I guess my parents will have to accept me as the person they gave me away to be. A Whiteman inside this chocolate skin of mine.

Inside my heart, I secretly desire the white man life style I see. Should I be ashamed to crave the Whiteman’s things and living?

I even secretly want to marry a white woman because I believe in my gut I can cope. After all, I have been instructed, surrounded and bombarded by the European culture.

So please, do not expect anything different from me.

Do not whisper about me saying that I’m trying to be what I am not because that is exactly what I am.

Marginalised.

A Whiteman inside a black skin.