Tuesday gone was designated Black Tuesday, the day to wear something black/dark to protest recent government tax measures. And it was indeed a dark day. The sky was overcast, and the mercury soared, at least in Kingston. I wore black as instructed; I had no choice. I was born with black skin.

So, all my life I have been protesting. All my life I have been mourning. All my life I've seen dark days, and when will they stop? Until I am dead. But when are they going to stop telling me what to wear? When are they going to stop telling me that 'nutten black nuh good'?

When are they going to stop attaching negative connotations to my skin colour? When are they going to stop telling the world that Satan is a black man who is responsible for the all the ills in this world. When is that lie going to be 'mashed dung'?

When are our teachers, parents and those in charge of moulding young impressionable minds going to stop imposing their self-hating philosophies on the girls and boys of this country, inhabited mostly by the descendants of slaves, so that they can cease and desist from scrubbing the black pigment from their faces?

Subliminal persuasion

When are they going to stop telling our children through subliminal persuasion that their black skin signifies gloom, doom and failure?

And did you hear that most venerable 'fluffy' judge when she commended Poor and Boasy for discarding his dark clothes for his white garb, the symbol of purity? And did you see the letter to the editor, in which the writer said he was going to wear white to protest against the instructions to wear black. I guess he had a white Tuesday.

Well, I revelled in my black Tuesday. The pigment in my skin danced and sang with glee. They are happy and proud, glad to be black. They are not standing back. They are afraid of no boy, no girl, no puss, no dog. But, they are also tired, very tired of living in a country of ironies, paradoxes, hypocrisy, confusion and double standards.

And oh, today is Black Sunday. What a lovely day! My black skin is glistening after it was polished with extra-virgin olive oil. I just love these black days. So why don't we just shut up and live?

PS. It's so inexpensive to be black. I mean, I don't have to go buy something black every time the edict is announced. Because, I will be wearing my birthday suit.

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