From Presidency to Medicine

I am Waad, I'm 19 years old. I study Medicine. Now I wish I had a breathtaking story behind my choice, but sadly I don't. It was hard for me though, at a young age, to choose a medical field. Other than my family influence, I always wanted to provide help to needy people. And Medicine offered as the perfect choice.

I always did very well at school. I wasn't the first in my class, but it was very satisfying. I had very diverse suggestions that I thought I will eventually stick to one of them. But that never happened. I wanted to be a nurse, a teacher, an astronaut, and at times I just wanted to be myself. As I entered high school, the pressure was more as to what should I choose. Because at this point, I had to decide what I wanted my next  years to be like. And I was completely blank. Maths was my only interest, so the obvious option to me was engineering. And since Dad was my role model, and he being an architect, I wanted to be just like him. I never told my parents, I don't even remember them asking. Yes, it is a very democratic family. So I had that choice in mind always. There was this phase in my life, when I grew very, very interested in Sudan. Everything going on there was my ultimate goal. I wanted to know all about the culture, the beliefs, the customs, everything. I mean, I still am, but that enthusiasm is a bit low now. Anyways, the general situation of the country under our government's control is not very pretty. The country was ruined by corrupted government and the people were simply exhausted and can no longer handle such a tiring daily routine. But I realized this ugly truth after I was madly in love with Sudan. There was no turning back. And I couldn't belong to a different country and forget about my first love. So in the 9th grade, I wanted to be the President of Sudan. This is very funny now, but I was damn serious. I wanted to be the president so bad that I started writing down things on how to improve the educational system, and what should be done to the beautiful landmarks in Sudan. It was crazy, but very real. Now, there are different aspects that I should consider. Firstly, my parents then the society around me. My Dad was, surprisingly, very supportive. I don't know whether he was being sarcastic but he really was very encouraging. My brothers would mock me, and he would stand up for me, which made me feel very proud and independent. My Mom laughed at the beginning,  and said that women are not supposed to be presidents. She said that women are too emotional to handle wars, poverty and all that. To some extent it was true, but won't the world be a totally different place if politicians were truly emotional? Then she started nodding her head to whatever I say to her. I think at that moment, she realized that her daughter went completely nuts. On the other hand, the society part was not very pretty. Now I will leave it to you to imagine what people had to say about me being the president. This phase was not long, fortunately to my mother, and I grew out of it quickly. And the reason behind that is the failure of all the previous presidents all around the world. Not a single president that I encountered. And it all takes a little while for them to be selfish. I don't think this little time is enough to build a whole nation. Moreover, it is a huge responsibility. I cannot understand how can they handle all that. So that's right there was the end of my dream. And I was back dream-less. All I wanted from being the president is that I had the largest influence over that area. I thought it was very easy opportunity for me to help people regardless. And now that I am patriotic, I thought that was all that it needed. Afterwards, my grades improved in a short span, and all what my parents saw at that moment was a future doctor. Did I want that? I don't know. I don't remember I was put into any pressure, but that was what I was fed. I started thinking of it, over and over. It seemed logical. To me, what was going on in my head, is that it was the best alternative to being a president. I did not need power, money or fame to help others. And it was a perfect match for my patriotic personality, since my country's healthcare system is tremendously awful. So after thinking of it thoroughly and praying 'Al-Estekhara', I was confident enough to confront to my parents that I wanted to study Medicine. Now, I want to remind you that these are the same parents that said that being a president is not appropriate for women. So their replies were very much expected: Sure! I was registered the next day to a university that I am not very happy in. Things went very smoothly, there were no technicalities, no second thoughts about it at all. Just like it was meant to be. 

I will say that I am very content with what I am today. I still dream that I won't be as greedy as the life I am living pushes you to be. I hope that I still stand up to myself and be that one person that I wanted to be and was made suitable to help others for the sake of humanity and a country that deserves all the best. After all, I know it is not the most heartbreaking story to hear, but Medicine is a blessing. If you have the will, not necessarily the brains, you can be one practicing it. I think we should think openly when deciding our career, even if it takes you to presidency. We don't have to limit ourselves to what is socially acceptable,  or what is expected from you. It should be what you see yourself enjoy doing, because it will always be the pleasure you have in doing it, that will help you in excelling it. 

Colorism

Color-ism: An issue which might not be discussed openly outside the African-American society especially during this latest period, but I think some light should be shed on it, because I can say that I am a person who did experience some discrimination based on my skin color. This did place me in a shell outside what I can define myself as beautiful.

Firstly, I am Sudanese, and I can say that we have a massive identity dilemma. A huge one. To people who don't know where that is, it is at the center of Africa. Exactly the center. It is a big country, embracing different cultures, languages, "colors" and religions. Or at least I can say, used to be a big country before the division of the South. Many tribes make up Sudan, from Nuba, Mahas, Ja'al, Dinka, Ar-Rashayda, Nuweir, Fur, Shawayga, Janjaweed and many others. We cannot identify ourselves. We simply can't know whether we are African or Arabs. We are black and speak Arabic. Some of us are Muslims, others are Christians and not long back we had Jews. The culture of each part is very different from the other, that I don't want to even start discussing it. We can't accept ourselves as only Sudanese. Some of us are looking for a globally acceptable identity fitting into it forcibly, in accordance to their benefits. So in all this pot, you can expect to spot some racism. 

I did not realize colorism as an issue until I was big enough to look at the mirror and see if I was pretty or not. I did not grow up in Sudan. I grew in a diverse place, yet the different groups living there were very into themselves. So, to some degree, you can justify how people feel about what is different. Some stories that I remember growing up, as a Kindergarten, kids will never hold my hands when the teacher asks us to make a circle because they thought they'll get dirty, or children making fun of us because it was so stupid that our parents left us in the oven. So from there, I felt like an outsider, and inferior to the point that I wished to be anyone else but not myself. Anyone who had a fair skin, long straight hair, confidence and who people think is pretty. I never even complained to my parents when I felt angry, because I thought they were right. Through elementary school, middle school and high school things were getting better. I started accepting myself as a regular person, very regular person. There were chances that could have changed my life, and turned it upside down, but my self-confidence stood against me in that. So there I completed my journey in being a very very regular person. After a while, I was exposed to similar experiences and stories from Sudanese, and at that point, everything kind of clicked to me. It wasn't only me, these were things where all Sudanese who grew up there had to face, accept and move on. Just like it was supposed to be right. And I was able to describe it as what people call today "Racism". Because all this happened outside my country, to me, it was fine. So I accepted and rose. Now this is was at an early stage. From there on, things started getting ugly. I began to be more interested in Sudan, and came to know about the culture and was so into it that I was not able to accept any flaws. That did not last for too long. We started visiting Sudan more, and I started socializing with the people. And they were exactly as expected.  They were very nice, easy going, social, lovable and discriminating. And I am not referring here to one tribe in Sudan, as what is portrayed in the media, I am referring to the majority of Sudanese. It is not spoken about loudly and not discussed a bit and at some times even denied. But it is the truth. It was a shock to the person I was opting to be, which is a patriotic Sudanese. Now, a certain type of discrimination is not obvious, in terms of friendships, business deals or common  interactions. It becomes obvious in the social life. And it is very disturbing. At times, I would try to find justifications but they all failed. After a while, I came to know that whether you were from the east, west, south or north, you won't escape a bothersome comment. Even when you are a part of a community, coming from a certain family should be a shame. And the most ridiculous comments would be said. So I threw away the throne of the beautiful perfect Sudan I dreamed of. And I stopped believing in the "people" themselves. And this is all not to say that Sudan is not beautiful or that I am not proud anymore. I know very well in some time Sudan is going to be a place where I can trace racism no more inshaAllah. I just had to give it a time.

This is not the end. I was accepted into Med School at a local university where I live, outside Sudan. And it was the time for me to explore what is around me. It was pretty limited, where people still had the mentality of what is different is unacceptable. But that didn't bother me a bit. Not at all. Because at that time, I knew I could be nothing but an ugly dark-skinned Sudanese girl to them, and being Sudanese was nothing but a joke to them. But somehow I was OK with that. And the reason behind this is because I knew I am a proud Sudanese, and have every right to be, correcting their doubtful beliefs is a waste of my own words. And I established such a concept after a number of experiences. The other reason was because we, Sudanese have very handsome men. This might sound funny, but I automatically thought someone will consider me beautiful because I looked like him, we shared the same color. Oh well, I was wrong. This started when we  would get visits from family and friends. And as I grew older, I started joining the talks, between the ladies. Not much of talking did I do, but I did listen carefully. Many things were discussed, things from the place you got your 'Toub" from to "what did you do to your face? it looks prettier". It was a topic discussed repeatedly around me, when I was at high school. People would give their opinions about the issue eagerly and proudly as if it was acceptable. At that point, I looked at myself in the mirror, and found out that I was an ugly dark-skinned girl again even to my fellow Sudanese. I was not up to what is defined as beauty. I wasn't a girl that guys were drooling over at any time of my life, but this explained to me why even the Sudanese guys wouldn't give me the time of their day. I couldn't explain this to myself. It was easier to explain racism to myself than colorism. Because it was no longer an issue of color, it was an issue of shade. Although Sudan was a developing country, smart people are everywhere. They are so smart that this issue manipulated them so easily. Suddenly, to be beautiful you had to be light-skinned with a certain length and type of hair. Actually, to get married you had to be within such categories. It is a sad reality. I still can't explain it. I remember during the wedding of a close relative, days before the wedding, people would persuade me to put some bleaching creams on my skin to make it lighter. Thank God I am stubborn, and I was too tired to discuss why do they think this is beauty and everything else is not, so I used Medicine as an excuse. I did so because if that was what I actually think, they'll pity me. Instead of the opposite.

There are many excuses that can be labelled to why people acted in this way. Some will say the confusion Sudanese are in, some might blame the British like they always do and some are easily influenced by the media and the ignorance of the society. But one thing remains for sure, is that it is happening, and while it is happening little princesses are growing up and looking up to such acts. The pain that I had to endure to play against my low self-esteem was hard. To hear harsh comments from the closest people to you is hard. To feel everyday, that maybe today is a new day, but it turns out to be exactly the opposite is hard. To believe in myself in such a wreck is hard. But I will continue to believe, because God's creation is never ugly. Whether it is to racism or colorism, things will eventually fade out. At this exact moment of my life, I am a proud Sudanese, regardless of the mess above. I am a beautiful dark-skinned girl, who does not need any pity. All these painful moments in my life made me stronger, way stronger that pain itself is redefined to me now. I'll make sure my little cousins grow up in a different surrounding, at least for now. I'll make sure they feel more beautiful each and every day.