A woman was utterly surprised when her Uber driver offered her an unsolicited tip on how to care for her remarkable skin.
Celebrating her striking beauty, the fashion icon, famously known as the “Queen of the Dark,” responded with laughter, dismissing his remarks with ease.
Read on to discover what the Uber driver said and how she transformed the situation into a learning opportunity!
Having spent her early years in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya, Nyakim Gatwech envisioned America as a “heaven on earth.”
However, upon arriving in Buffalo at the age of 14, Gatwech found herself often alone, crying over the harsh judgments she faced due to her deeply pigmented skin.
Based in Minnesota and originally from South Sudan, the model endured years of bullying for her radiant dark complexion, with comments like, “You don’t take showers. That’s why your skin is dirty,” or, “Smile so we can see you, Nyakim. We can’t see you.”
“In class, for example, the teacher would ask a question and say, ‘Oh, Nyakim, can you answer that?’ A kid would say, ‘Who are you talking to? We can’t see her. She’s not here.’ The whole class would start laughing, and I would just cry,” the now 31-year-old woman shares with Cosmopolitan.
As a young girl desperate to fit in, it was tough when random men would bet on whether she was wearing leggings or if her skin was genuinely that dark.
“At one point, I did consider [bleaching my skin]. When I came to America from a refugee camp in Africa [at age 14], I lived in Buffalo, New York. I would cry myself to sleep after being bullied [about my skin],” she says. “There are so many beautiful dark-skinned Sudanese women who bleach their skin.”
Gatwech revealed that her own sister was among those who bleached their skin. “My own sister did it. But when I told her I wanted to [after living in America for a few months], she told me no. ‘I’m not going to let my daughter do it, or you, nobody.’”
Queen of the Dark
Now hailed as the Queen of the Dark, this woman – who has faced discrimination from designers, makeup artists, and even fellow models – feels empowered by overcoming negativity.
Gatwech’s confidence and profound love for her deep chocolatey skin are supported by her 962,000 loyal Instagram followers.
“My chocolate is elegant. So is what I represent… A nation of warriors,” she writes in one post.
Fans are captivated by her striking beauty.
“Omgggggg I love your skin and melanin,” one fan comments, while another says, “love your beautiful skin tone so much! God makes beautiful creations such as you to remind us of His magnificence!”
Responding to the overwhelming support, Gatwech states, “I grew to learn to love myself… Now, I am not bothered by it [the negativity]. I accept my skin, I love myself, and I’m not insecure about my skin anymore. I don’t think I’m ugly anymore. I have confidence in myself.”
‘Stupidest questions’
A few years ago, Gatwech recounts an encounter with an Uber driver who asked if she’d ever consider bleaching her unique skin.
“He said, ‘Wow, you’re dark,’” Gatwech tells Cosmopolitan about her conversation with the driver. “I just laughed. I wanted to know why he thought I should. He said because life would be easier for me. It would be easier for me to be in a relationship, or guys would be more attracted to me if I was lighter. If I was going to a job interview, I would get the job opportunities because I’m lighter. I just said, ‘[Even if] being lighter would make my life easier, I’d rather take the [hard] road.’”
She adds, “I’m accustomed to people asking the most absurd questions about my skin.”
Gatwech then shared her story on Instagram, accompanied by a stunning photo of herself with three other dark-skinned Sudanese women.
She wrote, “A nation with people so dark you won’t believe your eyes… skin so rich and teeth so bright. Gosh, how I love my country, my people, and everything that comes with it.”
She detailed her encounter with the Uber driver: “[SIC] I was asked by my Uber driver the other day, he said, ‘Don’t take this offensively, but if you were given 10 thousand dollars, would you bleach your skin for that amount?’ I couldn’t even respond; I started laughing so hard. Then he said, ‘So that’s a no?’ and I was like, ‘Hell to the f*cking yeah, that’s a no. Why on earth would I ever bleach this beautiful melanin God blessed me with?’ Then he asked, ‘So you see it as a blessing?’”
Her followers quickly responded with praise and support.
“I guess he didn’t get the memo… black is beautiful,” one fan commented.
“I love you for loving you,” shared another. A third added, “Why would we ever want to mess up something so beautiful?”
When asked by Yahoo Beauty what advice she would give to young black girls facing similar challenges, she said, “You are beautiful, you are unique, and there are people who love you just the way you are. They say the darker the berry, the sweeter the juice. Embrace your darkness!”
My Husband Skipped Our Baby’s Gender Reveal Appointment – It Was the Last Straw and He Deserved a Lesson
As many married couples can attest, the journey towards parenthood is one that is often envisaged as being shared equally between both partners. I held a strong conviction that my pregnancy would be a time of shared joy and responsibility with my husband. I imagined us attending each prenatal appointment together, his hand in mine, as we listened to the heartbeat of our unborn child, eagerly discussing our future with excitement and tenderness. Sadly, the reality I faced was starkly different. It became increasingly apparent that my husband was more inclined to prioritize his social life and personal interests, repeatedly sidelining our important prenatal milestones. This recurring pattern of neglect ultimately pushed me to a point where I felt compelled to teach him an unforgettable lesson.
From the moment we discovered I was pregnant, it felt as if we had stepped into a dream. For years, my husband and I had looked forward to starting a family, and now, it seemed our dreams were finally coming to fruition. The news came to us during a short romantic getaway, which felt like the universe’s way of telling us that our lives were about to change for the better. We knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but we were ready—or so I thought—to face them together.
In the early weeks, my excitement was palpable. I approached every aspect of pregnancy with a positive spirit, even the less pleasant moments like morning sickness, because I believed that having my husband’s support would make the challenges manageable. However, his lack of involvement soon became evident. It seemed he viewed the pregnancy as my sole responsibility, an ordeal I must face alone while he maintained the freedom of our pre-parenthood days.
During the first trimester, there were nights filled with discomfort and restlessness, where the cold bathroom floor became my refuge. Meanwhile, my husband slept soundly, undisturbed and seemingly oblivious to my struggles. Even a simple gesture of fetching a glass of water seemed too much to ask of him. I found myself growing resentful, feeling abandoned in what was supposed to be our shared journey. I couldn’t help but think, “If I am already doing the job of being pregnant, the least he could do was rub my feet, or help when I am dealing with the worst nausea. I mean the child is not only his when it’s born.”
Our excitement soon soured into tension and frequent arguments. I had hoped that we would at least be able to share the experience of prenatal appointments, but my husband’s attendance was sporadic. He often opted out, preferring to engage in leisure activities with his friends. His excuses were flimsy, and whenever I expressed my disappointment, he dismissed my concerns with a shrug, saying, “I’m not the one carrying the baby, why do I have to go see the doctor with you?”
The turning point came when we were scheduled to attend an appointment to learn the gender of our baby. This was a moment I had envisioned as a milestone for us as a couple, an experience that would further bond us to our child. However, at the last minute, he decided to skip the appointment to enjoy a casual meal of fish ‘n’ chips with a friend. I was devastated and furious, but I managed to keep my composure. Instead of him, my mother accompanied me, and together, we discovered that we were expecting a daughter.
Resolved to make my husband realize the significance of his absence, I planned a poignant reminder for our gender reveal party. I commissioned a cake that was outwardly ordinary, decorated with question marks. However, hidden inside was a unique twist meant to symbolize his recent choices.
At the party, surrounded by friends and family, I asked my husband to do the honors of cutting the cake. As he sliced through the cake, out poured not the traditional blue or pink hues but miniature, edible fish ‘n’ chips. The symbolism was not lost on anyone—this was the meal he had deemed more important than attending the gender reveal of his own child. The room erupted in laughter, and while the atmosphere was light, the message hit home. It was a playful yet serious reminder of what he had missed. Taking advantage of the lighthearted mood, I expressed how crucial it is for us to support each other, especially during such a transformative phase of our lives.
Following the laughter and initial surprise, I presented the real reveal—a second cake, this one intricately decorated in soft pastel colors with delicate baby footprints. Together, we cut into it, revealing a beautiful soft pink interior. The room cheered, “It’s a girl!” The joy and excitement were overwhelming, and it was clear that the message had been received.
The realization of what he had been neglecting seemed to dawn on my husband. His apology that night was heartfelt, and from that day forward, he became a more present and involved partner. He attended every subsequent appointment without fail, and his newfound commitment to our prenatal journey was unmistakable.
As we continued to prepare for the arrival of our daughter, the atmosphere in our home shifted from one of tension to one of eager anticipation. We started planning the nursery, selecting each piece of furniture with care. My husband took particular interest in building some of the furniture himself, showcasing a level of engagement that was both surprising and heartening.
The incident with the fish ‘n’ chips cake became a legendary story within our family, a humorous but poignant reminder of the importance of being present and supportive. It served not only as a lesson for my husband but also as a reminder to both of us about the significance of shared experiences and mutual support in our marriage.
Reflecting on the journey, it became clear that the challenges we faced were not merely obstacles but opportunities for growth. They strengthened our relationship, deepening our understanding and appreciation for one another. As we awaited the arrival of our daughter, we were not just preparing to be parents but also learning to be better partners to each other. This experience, though fraught with initial misunderstandings and adjustments, ultimately enriched our bond and reinforced the foundation upon which our growing family would stand.
Leave a Reply