By Renee Mboya
A few years ago my favourite song spotted the refrain "I am not my hair...". This song I loved not because it made profound musical sense to me or added any excitement to a night of vigorous college dancing, but because it said, in words simpler than I could ever have thought sufficient, what I had been trying to say my whole life: "I am not my hair, I am not this skin, I am not your expectations (oh!).."