We are the children of survivors.
The descendants of kings and queens whose crowns were not stolen, only hidden.
Our skin, our hair, our features — each strand, each curve, each shade — carries the weight of history and the brilliance of creation.

 

We reject shame. We reject erasure. We reject the lie that our beauty must be measured against another’s standard.

 

We are whole. We are worthy. We are divine.

 

Our rituals are resistance.
Our self-care is revolution.
Every twist, braid, oiling, and cleansing is an act of remembrance, a return to balance, a claim of power.

 

We honor our ancestors by honoring ourselves.
We honor ourselves by honoring each other.
And in this unity, we rise — not to be equal to anyone,
but to be whole in ourselves, as we were always meant to be.

 

This is our declaration. This is our beauty. This is our power.