THE DARK KNIGHT: When Beauty Almost Became a Curse

By Mpundu Valerie

DISCLAIMER: No lightening creams were harmed or endorsed in writing this story. We have nothing against skin-lightening creams or those who use them. Everyone is free to make their own choices. This story is shared for cancer-awareness purposes.

In our family group, we have a celebrity. A legend. A woman who was on top of her game once.

My Aunty Thandie was not just a "CSW", she was THE "CSW", the one they sent to train the other girls. She knew how to swim with the sharks and came back leading the pack. While others were still learning how to charge, she was already charging consultation fees. In her time, as they say now, she was "hotter dan water inna tea kettle" - top of the charts, undisputed champion.

My mom loves talking about her in the family group. Whenever she speaks of her beloved sister, her face lights up half adoration, half "this girl was too good at being bad." Aunty Thandie was light-skinned and the deputy parent to my mom who was the complete opposite. Aunty Thandie was married to a white man. Probably the life she had always dreamt of. The perfect retirement package after a very successful career.

If you were to put my mom and Aunty side by side back then, you'd swear they were never sisters. My mom was and still is dark as night, while Aunty had peeled off a whole layer trying to lighten herself.

My mom types openly in the group that her older sister had her fair share of fun before she finally settled for Craig, the white guy who would buy her more skin-lightening creams. Lifetime supply. The ultimate pension fund.

At some point, our top performer came to the family group seeking help because her wound wouldn't heal. "They said they can't stitch it," she said, showing her shin. A small sore that had decided to become a permanent resident. My mom replied: "It's that mercury you apply. Do you even read what's in those creams?"

That exchange went on for as long as I can remember, then fell into that silence that meant they were now on a private call having a deep conversation. The wound became persistent. She abandoned her usual creams for a jar of Vaseline. It was then I realized she was as dark as night.

The dermatologist took one look, took a biopsy, and said the word no one expected in a skin-lightening story. Skin cancer. Caused by years of bleaching creams.

The satire was too much. The woman who invested her whole fortune to erase her blackness was almost killed by the eraser. "Light & Lovely" had become "Burn & Biopsy." But we thank God we caught it early. Stage 1. Cut it out, clean margins, no chemo. She survived.

She made a vow that day that still stands in our family group: she never wants to see anything that says "lightening" on her skin again. Last week Craig asked her to buy her creams from town. She typed: "Craig darling, if you want a light-skinned wife, go marry a light bulb. I am staying pitch black." These days we don't call her Aunty Thandie anymore.

We call her The Dark Knight. Not because she flies around at night saving people, but because she finally stopped trying to erase the night from her own skin. On her dressing table, where there used to be 12 shades of Fair & White, there is now only one jar of Vaseline Blue Seal, plus a small scar on her leg she calls her receipt.

Her story is a reminder to ask questions, understand what we put on our bodies, and seek professional advice when something does not seem right.

As the theme says, every story is unique.

And sometimes, the most powerful transformation is not becoming lighter.

It is learning to live comfortably in your own skin.

Have a personal journey you would like to share? Contact us on +263 774 778 179.

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