Rebecca Olayinka

Belonging

I am a black woman, I don’t know where I belong. 

I was born in the UK, yet I still get asked;

“No, where are you really from”

I go to places that are set up for white faces, 

My face is not typical. It is not widely accepted.

I’m black and a woman, this is more than enough to be rejected.

I stand out like a sore thumb. 

I get curious looks and side eyes, 

If their faces could talk, it would say;

“What are you doing here, you do not belong”

I feel anxious,

Yet you will never tell,

I have mastered a poker face, 

I am composed.

Suddenly someone comes up from behind me,

Before I can react, a sly hand reaches out and touches my hair;

“Your hair is lovely”! She say’s

“Don’t you touch my hair”!! I say.

The woman is shocked, like she doesn’t understand consent. 

“I…I I’m sorry” she stammers and her cheeks flush pink.

I am embarrassed too, yet the noticeable pink in my cheeks is not visible,

My skin is darker and does not betray my truth,

I walk away silently, 

What else can I say?

Yet there is a sad echo in my footsteps, 

Here we go again.

There is no one to tell and no one around who would care.

It’s not the first time and it may not be the last,

I am left with silent whispers of a voice that only I can hear;

“You don’t belong here,”

Your skin is black,

You’re only an attraction,

You’d better go back. 

Back where I wonder? 

There is nowhere to go,

Yet living in the UK, does not feel like a home. 

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Written by Rebecca Olayinka

Rebecca is from London and has lived in Bristol for 14 years. Rebecca attended UWE and now works as Senior Practitioner (Social Worker) in Bristol. Rebecca loves poetry and is currently working on her first manuscript.