There’s a war on books. A war against the kind of stories that make children feel seen, heard, and valued. A war against books that dare to tell the truth about race, identity, and self-worth. Sulwe by Lupita Nyong’o is one of those books under attack – A banned book.
And I understand why—because I lived that story.
I, too, grew up as the dark-skinned sister. I, too, was told that my skin was ugly, that it made me less. I was called Blackie by the people I trusted most, as if my very existence was something to mock. Meanwhile, my lighter-skinned sister and others like her were praised as beautiful, special, desirable. It wasn’t always meant to be cruel—at least, not consciously. People would laugh, brush it off, say things like “You know how they are.” But words have weight, and those words followed me everywhere. They seeped into my bones, haunted me in the mirror, lingered in the spaces where I wanted to feel safe.
And I am not alone.
The Truth Sulwe Tells
Sulwe is a story about colorism, about how the world often elevates lighter skin while making darker-skinned people feel invisible—or worse, unworthy. It follows a little girl named Sulwe, who longs for her skin to be lighter so she can be seen as beautiful like her sister. She tries everything—wishing, rubbing her skin, hoping for change. But it is only through a powerful story about the night and the day, about balance and beauty in all shades, that Sulwe begins to see herself differently.
It is a book that teaches self-love, but not in a shallow, surface-level way. It acknowledges the pain first. It tells the truth about what many dark-skinned children experience before it offers healing. And that truth is exactly what makes some people uncomfortable. The reason it is a banned book.
Why Are They Trying to Ban It?
Books get banned for a lot of reasons, but the core of it often comes down to fear. The people banning Sulwe don’t want children to read about colorism. They don’t want Black girls learning that they are beautiful. They don’t want lighter-skinned children to understand their privilege.
Because what happens when kids grow up knowing the truth?
They start asking questions. They start seeing injustice. They start rejecting the idea that beauty is reserved for only a select few. They start dismantling the systems that tell them otherwise. And for some, that is terrifying.
So they try to silence the story.
The Damage Colorism Does
Some might say, “Well, it’s just a book. Why does it matter?” But books shape the way children see themselves and the world.
I know what it’s like to grow up without a Sulwe—without stories that told me my dark skin was beautiful. Instead, I got silence. Or worse, reinforcement of the idea that I was less valuable. It took years, decades even, to unlearn the damage that had been done. To stop flinching at the word Blackie. To look at my skin and see richness instead of rejection. To love myself without condition.
Now imagine a world where children don’t have to unlearn that pain. Imagine a world where they grow up reading books like Sulwe and believing, from the very start, that they are enough. That they are radiant. That their worth is not determined by how much light their skin reflects.
That’s the world Sulwe is trying to create. And that’s the world these book bans are trying to stop.
What Can We Do?
Book bans are nothing new, but they are dangerous. They limit access to stories that challenge harmful narratives. They keep children—especially Black and brown children—from seeing themselves in the pages of books. They reinforce the same systems of oppression that stories like Sulwe are working to break down.
So, what can we do?
- Buy the banned books. If schools and libraries are being pressured to remove Sulwe and other diverse books, we can ensure they remain in circulation by purchasing them for ourselves and others.
- Donate banned books. Give copies to classrooms, community centers, little free libraries, and anywhere children might have access to them.
- Speak up about banned books. If you hear about a book being banned, push back. Write to school boards, attend meetings, and advocate for inclusive stories.
- Read them loudly. Share these stories with the children in your life. Make sure they hear them, absorb them, and carry their messages with them.
- Challenge colorism in everyday life. Don’t let harmful comments slide. Whether it’s a joke about someone’s dark skin or a preference for lighter skin being casually expressed, speak up. Challenge it. Help change the narrative.
The Stories That Stay
I often think about how different things might have been if I had a book like Sulwe as a child. Maybe I wouldn’t have spent so many years wishing I could be someone else. Maybe I wouldn’t have absorbed the idea that I was unworthy simply because of how I looked. Maybe I would have known, from the start that I was always enough.
But even though I didn’t have Sulwe, children today still can.
That’s why we must fight for these books. Not just for us, but for every child who has ever looked in the mirror and wished they were someone else. For every child who has ever been told, in words or actions, that they are less than. For every child who deserves to know, without a doubt, that they are beautiful, worthy, and whole.
Because the stories they read today will shape the way they see themselves tomorrow. And that is something worth fighting for.
One of the stories in my forthcoming collection “Layaway Child” explores a young girl’s personal experience with colorism, showing how deeply these messages can shape a child’s self-image and sense of belonging. I wrote it because these stories need to be told, because children like her—like me—deserve to see themselves reflected with love and truth.