Meet Nyakim Gatwec, A Model That Was Dubbed ‘Queen Of The Dark’

The woman was shocked when her Uber driver uninvitedly offered advise on how to take care of her beautiful skin.

The “Queen of the Dark,” as the fashion diva was affectionately called, laughed off his comments and embraced her breathtaking beauty.

Continue reading to find out what this Uber driver said her and how she utilized it as a teaching moment!

Nyakim Gatwech, who spent her early years in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya, thought that living in America would “be like heaven.”

But when Gatwech moved to Buffalo at the age of 14, she stayed by herself a lot, crying over comments made about her very dark skin tone.

“You don’t wash your hair. Because of this, your skin is filthy.Or, “Nyakim, smile so we can see you. You are invisible to us. You have dirty skin as a result. Or grin for us to see you, Nyakim. We cannot see you.

In class, for example, the instructor might ask a question and say, “Oh, Nyakim, can you answer that?””How about a toddler asking, “Who are you talking to?”? We cannot see her. She’s not here. The now 31-year-old woman says, “I would just cry, and the whole class would start laughing,” as reported by Cosmopolitan.

The innocent young girl just wanted to fit in, but it was difficult when random people were speculating about whether or not she was indeed that dark-skinned and whether or not she was wearing leggings.

I did think about [bleaching my skin] at one time. I was 14 years old when I fled an African refugee camp and moved to Buffalo, New York. The beauty admits, “After being teased [about my skin], I would cry myself to sleep.””So many stunning Sudanese women with dark skin tones bleach their skin.”

The model continued by saying that her own sister was one of the Sudanese ladies who had bleached her skin.”It was my own sister.” However, after a few months of living in America, I told her that I wanted to, and she said no. I will not allow my kid, you, or anyone else to do it.

Dark Queen

The woman, who has encountered prejudice from makeup artists, designers, and other models, is now referred to as the Queen of the Dark and feels strong since she has triumphed over the criticism.

Additionally, Gatwech’s 962,000 dedicated Instagram fans encourage her self-assurance and amazing fondness for her deep chocolate skin tone.

“My chocolate is sophisticated. Thus, I stand for this. A country of fighters,” she writes in one of her posts.

And the incredibly beautiful woman’s admirers can’t get enough of her.

One fan writes, “Omgggggg I love your skin and melanin,” while another exclaims, “I love your beautiful skin tone so much!” God creates exquisite things like you to serve as a constant reminder of His majesty.

In response to the tremendous outpouring of love, Gatwech adds, “I learned to love myself.I’m not troubled by the negative anymore. I love and embrace my skin, and I no longer feel insecure about it. I no longer believe I’m ugly. I am confident in who I am.

“The silliest queries”

Speaking about her odd skin, Gatwech recounts about meeting an Uber driver a few years ago who asked if she would ever consider whitening it.

“Oh, you’re dark,” he remarked.Gatwech describes her chat with the driver to Cosmopolitan.”I merely chuckled. I was curious as to why he felt that I ought to. He said that because it would make my life simpler. If I were lighter, I could get into a relationship more easily and guys would be more drawn to me. I’m lighter, so if I went to a job interview, I would receive the opportunity. I just responded, “I’d rather take the [hard] road, even if] being lighter would make my life easier.”

The woman goes on, “I’m used to people asking the stupidest questions ever [about my skin].”

Gatwech then shared the story on Instagram along with a stunning picture of herself with three other stunning dark-skinned Sudanese women.

“A country with people so dark you won’t believe your eyes,” the author writes. Teeth so brilliant, skin so rich. Oh, how I cherish my nation, my people, and all that it entails.

“[SIC] I was asking my Uber driver the other day, and he said, don’t take this personally, but would you bleach your skin for ten thousand dollars?” she says, going on to describe her interaction with the driver. I couldn’t even respond because I was laughing so much.He then responded, “So that’s a no,” to which I replied, “Hell to the f*king yeah, that’s a no, why would I ever bleach this gorgeous melanin that God bless with me?””So you see it as a blessing,” he continued.

Her backers applauded Gatwech right away and raced to her defense.

“I suppose he missed the memo.”Black is gorgeous,” an admirer writes.

Another person says, “I cherish you for cherishing me.”A third wonders, “Why would we ever want to mess up something so beautiful?”

Asking Yahoo Beauty for guidance, she said, “You are beautiful, you are unique, and there are people who love you just the way you are” to young black girls suffering comparable struggles. It’s said that the juice of a cherry is sweeter the darker it is. Accept your gloom!

If you think that your family and friends will benefit from this tale, please SHARE it with them and leave a comment to let us know!

The Hotel Manager Seemed Determined to Ruin My Honeymoon, but Sneaking Into His Room Revealed Everything – Story of the Day

Six months after our wedding, I felt us slipping apart. A surprise trip was my last hope. But when a cold hotel manager ruined everything, I followed her and found a secret that changed how I saw her and my marriage.

It had been six months since our wedding. Six months since I stood in white lace on that sunlit hill, holding Mike’s hands and believing every word he said to me.

He looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. The world had been soft around the edges that day, like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from.

Now, I sat alone at the kitchen table. The light outside had faded to gray, and the laptop screen glowed like a tiny moon in the dim room.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I was scrolling through our wedding photos again.

There I was—beaming, cheeks pink with joy, my head tilted against Mike’s shoulder.

He had his arm wrapped around me, and we looked like two people who had everything figured out.

But something had shifted. Not with a crash, not all at once. It was quieter than that, like the slow drip of water wearing away stone.

Mike was always busy. Always exhausted. If he wasn’t answering work emails, he was texting his coworkers or checking fantasy football stats.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Even when he was home, he wasn’t here. I could almost see the space between us growing wider, like we were standing on opposite sides of a river and didn’t know how to cross it.

I opened a new tab and typed “honeymoon beach resorts.” My fingers hovered for a moment before clicking search.

Bright images filled the screen—blue water, white sand, candlelight dinners. My chest tightened. I needed something. Something to remind us of who we used to be.

The door creaked open behind me. I didn’t turn. I just said it.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I booked a hotel,” I said. “We leave Friday.”

Mike stopped. “You did what?”

I stood up and faced him. “I booked it. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”

He rubbed his forehead. “Sam, come on. This week? I’ve got two projects launching, and—”

“Not now?” I said, my voice sharp. “When then? When we’ve stopped caring? When we’re just two strangers in the same house?”

He looked at me, silent.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Then he sighed. “You’re right. I’ll cancel everything. Let’s go.”

I stepped toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. And in that small moment, I felt like the bride I used to be.

The hotel looked like something out of a movie.

Palm trees swayed back and forth in the warm breeze, and the white curtains at the open windows fluttered like slow dancers.

Somewhere beyond the walls, I could hear the ocean singing, a low, steady hum that wrapped around the building like a soft blanket.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I told you,” I said, grinning up at Mike, feeling a spark of pride. “I know how to plan things.”

He smiled at me, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time.

He pulled our bags through the front doors, and for a second, it felt like the weight we had been carrying for months was lighter.

I walked up to the front desk, my heart almost skipping. It had been so long since I felt excited about anything.

“Reservation under Whitaker,” I said, straightening my shoulders. “King suite.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The girl behind the desk—Maddie, her little gold name tag shining under the lights—started tapping on her keyboard. Her smile faded. Her eyebrows pulled together.

“You’re in a double room, standard,” she said, glancing up at me.

I blinked. “No,” I said firmly, keeping my voice calm. “I paid for the suite. It’s in the confirmation.”

Maddie clicked a few more times, lips pressed tight. Then she shook her head slowly. “Sorry. It’s not in the system.”

My heart dropped. I pulled out my phone, my fingers a little shaky, and showed her the reservation, the emails, and even the charge on my card.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She looked, nodded, but gave me a tight, apologetic smile like it didn’t matter anyway.

“There’s nothing I can do right now,” she said. “Our manager will be available later this evening.”

“I want to speak to her now,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

“She’s not on the property at the moment,” Maddie said, stepping back a little like she was bracing for a fight.

Before I could argue more, Mike stepped beside me. He placed a warm, steady hand on my back.

“Let’s go to the room,” he said gently. “We’ll talk to the manager later, okay?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t want to let it go. My whole body buzzed with anger. But I swallowed it and followed him upstairs, fuming with every step.

The room was… disappointing. No ocean view. No fancy soaking tub. Just scratchy beige blankets and heavy curtains that shut out the light.

I dropped my suitcase on the bed with a thud and crossed my arms, my whole body stiff.

Mike sat beside me. He reached for my hand and held it between his palms.

“Look,” he said softly, “this trip is about you and me. Not rooms. Let’s not waste it being angry.”

I looked at him, at the way his eyes searched my face. I let out a long breath.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Okay,” I said, forcing a smile. “Let’s arrange that dinner.”

An hour later, just as I was fixing my hair in the mirror, there was a knock at the door.

I opened it and found a woman standing there. She looked to be in her 50s, tall and thin, with sharp cheekbones and small, tight lips.

She wore a slate-gray blazer that matched the cloudy look in her eyes. Her face gave nothing away—like a stone statue that had seen too much to be moved by anything anymore.

“I’m Madeline,” she said, her voice flat and dry like the rustle of old paper. “Hotel manager.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I nodded and quickly grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I pulled up the booking confirmation and held it out to her.

“As you can see,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could, “I reserved the king suite. And I paid for it in full.”

She barely glanced at the screen. Her eyes flicked over the words like she already knew what it would say.

“Yes,” she said without emotion. “There was an error. That suite has already been given to another guest.”

I stared at her, feeling the heat rise up my neck. “So what now?” I asked, my voice rising. “You just shrug and say too bad?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Madeline didn’t blink.“There are no other suites available,” she said, each word clipped and cold. “You’ll need to stay where you are.”

I waited, expecting at least a word of apology, a hint of regret. Something human.

“No refund? No apology?” I pressed, my hands clenching into fists.

“That’s our policy,” she said, like she was reading it off a card. “Good evening.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, heels clicking sharply on the tile floor.

I stood frozen in the doorway, my body trembling with anger. Mike came up behind me, his hand gently brushing my arm.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Let it go, Sam,” he said quietly. “We can still have a great night. Don’t let this ruin it.”

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. His lips were warm, a small reminder of what really mattered.“I’ll get us a table by the window downstairs,” he said. “Take your time.”

I nodded stiffly, closing the door behind him.

But inside, my mind was burning. The coldness in Madeline’s voice, the way she hadn’t even pretended to care—it gnawed at me. It didn’t feel like a simple mistake. It felt personal.

And I wasn’t ready to let it go.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I slipped into the hallway, careful not to let the door click behind me. My heart was pounding so loudly it filled my ears.

Earlier, I had seen Madeline disappear through a staff-only corridor tucked behind the main lobby. I didn’t know what I thought I would find, but I needed answers.

I followed the quiet path. At the very end of the hallway, there was a plain, beige door with no number and no decoration. It was just there, forgotten by everyone but her.

I waited, my body pressed against the wall, holding my breath. A few minutes later, Madeline stepped out of the door with a folder clutched under one arm.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She didn’t notice me standing in the shadows. She walked briskly down the hall and turned a corner, disappearing from sight.

My chance.

Next to the door, a cleaning cart sat abandoned, half-loaded with towels and tiny soap bottles.

Sitting right on top was a keycard, carelessly left behind. My hands shook as I grabbed it. I hesitated for a second, thinking of Mike, thinking of how wrong this felt.

But then I slid the card through the lock. The light blinked green.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The door creaked open.

Her room was silent. Empty. It smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and something older, like dusty paper.

The bed was perfectly made, the corners tucked in so tightly I could have bounced a coin on it.

No photos on the nightstand. No books or personal things. It didn’t feel like anyone really lived here. It felt… hollow.

I stepped closer to the desk by the window. A notebook lay open as if someone had been writing and walked away.

I shouldn’t have, I knew that. But my fingers moved before I could stop them.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The writing inside was small and careful, like the hand of someone who had learned to be neat because life around them was always messy.

“Another couple tonight. Laughing. Arguing. Crying. Always wasting the time they have.”

“I watch them from a distance. I wonder what it would feel like to have someone wait for you with flowers in their hands.”

“If I ever find love, I won’t forget how lucky I am. I won’t waste it on being busy, or distracted, or angry. I’ll just hold it like a warm coat in the winter.”

Tears had smudged the ink on the pages. I touched one with the tip of my finger, feeling how the paper was wrinkled and thin.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Madeline wasn’t cold. She wasn’t cruel.

She was lonely.

A lump rose in my throat. I thought of Mike, sitting downstairs, waiting for me with hope in his eyes.

Here I was, wasting our time over a room when I had something Madeline had only ever dreamed of.

Shame washed over me, heavy and sharp.

I had almost forgotten what mattered most.

Mike stood up as soon as he saw me walk into the restaurant. The soft candlelight made his face look younger, gentler, like the man I married six months ago.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His eyes found mine across the room, and something inside me loosened.

“You’re radiant,” he said, his voice low and full of something warm I hadn’t heard in a long time.

I smiled, though my throat felt tight, like there was a knot I couldn’t swallow past. I walked slowly to the table and slid into the chair across from him.

The tablecloth was crisp and white, and the small vase of flowers between us smelled sweet, like hope.

I reached out and took his hands, feeling the familiar roughness of his skin. His thumbs brushed gently over my knuckles, slow and steady.

“I owe you an apology,” I whispered, the words almost catching in my chest.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He frowned, his forehead wrinkling the way it did when he didn’t understand something.“What for?” he asked, his voice soft.

“For letting everything else matter more than you,” I said. “For almost ruining this trip. For almost forgetting us.”

Mike shook his head slowly and squeezed my hands.“We both forgot, Sam,” he said. “It’s not just you. Life got noisy. We stopped listening.”

I looked down at our hands for a second, gathering the courage for what I had to admit next.

“I followed her,” I confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “The manager. Madeline. I went into her room.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he didn’t pull his hands away. He just waited.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“She wasn’t rude because she hated me,” I said.

“She was hurting. She sees couples like us every day. And all she feels is what she’s missing. I think… I think she wishes she had what we have. And I almost threw it away, Mike. Over a stupid room.”

He leaned closer across the table, so close I could see the tiny flecks of gold in his brown eyes.“So we remember now?” he asked.

I nodded. Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away.

“From now on, I choose you,” I said. “Even if the bed’s lumpy and the view sucks.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

We laughed then, the kind of laugh that shakes something loose inside you. We toasted with glasses of cheap wine, and somehow, it tasted sweeter than anything I could remember.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Madeline walking through the dining room, clipboard in hand. Her steps were slow, her face still serious.

Our eyes met for just a second.

I smiled, small but real.

And for the first time, she smiled back.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

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