Middle School Journal Entry One By Monica Kakembo

They yanked at my curly hair and made fun of my eyes.
And with every tear that fell off my face, the world felt less like mine.
I thought ‘you can do anything’ was just a stupid lie.
Because I knew the chains of prejudice would never let me fly.
Because what I looked like
Became who I was.
And I would never make anyone smile
Or feel.
I’d never make anyone feel.
No-one would ever feel for me.
The outsider.
The ugly, curly haired outsider;
My shoe laces always untied.
Hoping that someone would notice and tell me
So I could know what conversation felt liked.
I had so many scrapes on my knees.
No-one ever told me.

By Monica Kakembo, Uganda

A Participant in the CTalent Programme, since Sep20