Essays

The Faces of Sisterhood

By Madeline Ileleji 

Illustration by “Anisha Marenah”

My little sisters a privileged kid. She doesn’t even know it. I did good to make sure my girl  baby grew up with the sun for skin and white teeth for a perfect smile.

And I was a poor kid. Colour faded uniforms, plastic shoes and a sun washed smile. But I was smart in the way God made children born in uncertain times, with uncertain parents, trading pain for pleasure.

Yet here I was, woman grown, a Volkswagen wan gen car for a ride, and ten great shoes. I lined them up like the colour of the winter collection, to remind myself of things I could now quantify standing in my angle side Mirror with my rich money hair, tapered cut, tinted and rolled to Afro curls like the one The Weekend wore. That hair is a roll for pretty black girls with wild and untamed spirits, and a fiesty soul working a wolf heart to provide a meals worth of food and a pair of skinny jeans and t-shirts.

Read More