A woman was utterly surprised when her Uber driver offered her an unsolicited tip on how to care for her remarkable skin.
Celebrating her striking beauty, the fashion icon, famously known as the “Queen of the Dark,” responded with laughter, dismissing his remarks with ease.
Read on to discover what the Uber driver said and how she transformed the situation into a learning opportunity!
Having spent her early years in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya, Nyakim Gatwech envisioned America as a “heaven on earth.”
However, upon arriving in Buffalo at the age of 14, Gatwech found herself often alone, crying over the harsh judgments she faced due to her deeply pigmented skin.
Based in Minnesota and originally from South Sudan, the model endured years of bullying for her radiant dark complexion, with comments like, “You don’t take showers. That’s why your skin is dirty,” or, “Smile so we can see you, Nyakim. We can’t see you.”
“In class, for example, the teacher would ask a question and say, ‘Oh, Nyakim, can you answer that?’ A kid would say, ‘Who are you talking to? We can’t see her. She’s not here.’ The whole class would start laughing, and I would just cry,” the now 31-year-old woman shares with Cosmopolitan.
As a young girl desperate to fit in, it was tough when random men would bet on whether she was wearing leggings or if her skin was genuinely that dark.
“At one point, I did consider [bleaching my skin]. When I came to America from a refugee camp in Africa [at age 14], I lived in Buffalo, New York. I would cry myself to sleep after being bullied [about my skin],” she says. “There are so many beautiful dark-skinned Sudanese women who bleach their skin.”
Gatwech revealed that her own sister was among those who bleached their skin. “My own sister did it. But when I told her I wanted to [after living in America for a few months], she told me no. ‘I’m not going to let my daughter do it, or you, nobody.’”
Queen of the Dark
Now hailed as the Queen of the Dark, this woman – who has faced discrimination from designers, makeup artists, and even fellow models – feels empowered by overcoming negativity.
Gatwech’s confidence and profound love for her deep chocolatey skin are supported by her 962,000 loyal Instagram followers.
“My chocolate is elegant. So is what I represent… A nation of warriors,” she writes in one post.
Fans are captivated by her striking beauty.
“Omgggggg I love your skin and melanin,” one fan comments, while another says, “love your beautiful skin tone so much! God makes beautiful creations such as you to remind us of His magnificence!”
Responding to the overwhelming support, Gatwech states, “I grew to learn to love myself… Now, I am not bothered by it [the negativity]. I accept my skin, I love myself, and I’m not insecure about my skin anymore. I don’t think I’m ugly anymore. I have confidence in myself.”
‘Stupidest questions’
A few years ago, Gatwech recounts an encounter with an Uber driver who asked if she’d ever consider bleaching her unique skin.
“He said, ‘Wow, you’re dark,’” Gatwech tells Cosmopolitan about her conversation with the driver. “I just laughed. I wanted to know why he thought I should. He said because life would be easier for me. It would be easier for me to be in a relationship, or guys would be more attracted to me if I was lighter. If I was going to a job interview, I would get the job opportunities because I’m lighter. I just said, ‘[Even if] being lighter would make my life easier, I’d rather take the [hard] road.’”
She adds, “I’m accustomed to people asking the most absurd questions about my skin.”
Gatwech then shared her story on Instagram, accompanied by a stunning photo of herself with three other dark-skinned Sudanese women.
She wrote, “A nation with people so dark you won’t believe your eyes… skin so rich and teeth so bright. Gosh, how I love my country, my people, and everything that comes with it.”
She detailed her encounter with the Uber driver: “[SIC] I was asked by my Uber driver the other day, he said, ‘Don’t take this offensively, but if you were given 10 thousand dollars, would you bleach your skin for that amount?’ I couldn’t even respond; I started laughing so hard. Then he said, ‘So that’s a no?’ and I was like, ‘Hell to the f*cking yeah, that’s a no. Why on earth would I ever bleach this beautiful melanin God blessed me with?’ Then he asked, ‘So you see it as a blessing?’”
Her followers quickly responded with praise and support.
“I guess he didn’t get the memo… black is beautiful,” one fan commented.
“I love you for loving you,” shared another. A third added, “Why would we ever want to mess up something so beautiful?”
When asked by Yahoo Beauty what advice she would give to young black girls facing similar challenges, she said, “You are beautiful, you are unique, and there are people who love you just the way you are. They say the darker the berry, the sweeter the juice. Embrace your darkness!”
I Found a Little Girl in My Shopping Cart—Her Plea Changed My Life Forever
I was doing my usual grocery shopping when I suddenly found a little girl sitting in my cart. She looked up at me with big, scared eyes and whispered, “Don’t give me back, I’m scared.” At that moment, I knew my life was about to change.
My career was steady, and my life was well-organized. I took pride in the independence I had built over the years. Being single didn’t bother me. I enjoyed the freedom and simplicity of my life, without many responsibilities beyond my job and daily routine.
My daily routines, though simple, brought me comfort. After my sister Melissa lost her job, I let her stay with me. She was family, after all. She had a tendency to take control of things, but I hoped she’d get back on her feet soon.
That day started like any other. I went grocery shopping, as I did every week. The simple act of shopping made me feel in control.
Walking through the aisles, I focused on my list. Halfway through, I turned to grab a box of cereal, and when I looked back at my cart, there was… a little girl!
She was sitting in the basket. I blinked, confused.
“Hi! Where’s your mommy?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, gripping the cart tightly.
I froze, trying to understand what was happening. I looked around, expecting to see a parent nearby, but there was no one.
“What’s your name?” I asked gently, crouching to her level.
“Lily,” she whispered softly.
I looked around again, but the store was full of busy strangers. What should I do? Leave her and wait for someone? But what if no one came?
“Well, Lily,” I said softly, “let’s find someone who can help us, okay?”
I slowly pushed the cart, scanning the aisles for her parents. After 20 minutes, it was clear—no one was coming for her.
Just as I was about to call the police, she looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and whispered, “Don’t give me back, I’m scared.”
Before I knew it, I had taken her home.
Everything felt surreal. Lily, a scared little girl, sat at my kitchen table, eating a sandwich, her eyes following me as if I was her only safety.
The front door opened, and Melissa walked in. I knew this wouldn’t go over well.
“What is this?” she asked, her eyes locking on Lily.
“I found her at the grocery store,” I explained, trying to stay calm.
“Found her?!” Melissa exclaimed. “You can’t just bring home a child! Do you even know where she came from?”
“No, but she was alone,” I replied. “I couldn’t leave her there.”
“You can’t fix everything, Rachel. This is a bad idea.”
“I called James,” I said, mentioning my detective friend. “He’s looking into it. We’ll figure it out.”
Melissa sighed in frustration but muttered nothing else. My focus stayed on Lily.
The next morning, my fears came true. There was a knock at the door. Social services had arrived.
Melissa acted fast, as she always did when worried. I knew I couldn’t keep Lily, no matter how much I wanted to.
“We’ll take her into care,” a social worker said gently.
I looked at Lily, who was clutching the table.
“I… I just need a minute,” I stammered.
I knelt by Lily. “Sweetie, you have to go with them for now. They’re going to help you.”
Her big eyes met mine. “Please, don’t give me back. I’m scared.”
Her words broke my heart, but before I could say more, the social workers took her away.
Suddenly, my phone rang. It was James, his voice serious.
“Rachel, I found something. Her name’s Lily. She’s run away from home before, but they’ve never found anything wrong.”
“Do you have their address? Send it to me, please.”
Later, Melissa began criticizing me again. “This is why I called social services. You’re acting impulsively.”
“A mess? You think this is a mess?” I snapped. “Lily needed help, and I wasn’t going to abandon her. Maybe focus on your own life before judging mine.”
Melissa stayed silent. I grabbed my keys and left, determined to figure things out.
When I arrived at Lily’s house, something felt off. The house was neglected, the yard overgrown. I knocked, and a pale woman opened the door—Lily’s mother, Gloria.
“I’m Rachel. I’ve been caring for Lily,” I explained.
At her daughter’s name, Gloria’s expression filled with sadness. She let me in.
“I know I can’t take care of her anymore,” Gloria admitted, her voice heavy with defeat.
“Gloria,” I said gently, “you love her, but she needs more right now. Let me help.”
Gloria wiped her eyes. “I tried… after her father died.”
“You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll care for her while you get back on your feet. We’ll figure this out together.”
“You’d do that?” she asked.
“Yes. Lily needs to be safe. I’ll take care of her for now, and when you’re ready, she can come back.”
Gloria nodded, and we talked about a plan for her to visit Lily and work toward getting her back.
Just then, social services arrived. Lily ran to her mother, hugging her tightly.
“I’m here, baby,” Gloria whispered. After a few moments, Lily walked back to me.
I spoke with social workers and Gloria about the plan. Lily would stay with me temporarily, and we would reassess Gloria’s situation in a few months.
“It’s time to go, sweetie,” I said, holding Lily’s hand.
Gloria gave her a nod. “Be good, okay?”
From that day on, life changed for both of us. Lily adjusted, and we found comfort in new routines.
One night, she asked, “Will I see Mom again?”
“Yes, sweetie,” I assured her. “When she’s ready. And until then, you’re safe here.”
Through this journey, I learned that love sometimes means knowing when to let go and trust in the future.
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