While the title of this essay may be confusing and intriguing, its message is straightforward. Race was not a form of identification in the Nigeria I grew up in. My skin has always been black, but it was not part of my identity until I learned how I was perceived.

As a Nigerian girl who moved out of Nigeria at the age of 11, my journey of self-discovery and identity has been complex and ever-evolving. I solely identified as an African girl, proud of my Nigerian heritage and the rich culture and traditions that came with it. However, upon moving to a country where race plays a significant role in identity, the term "Black" was added to my identity. In Nigeria, my identity was primarily shaped by my nationality and cultural background. I was a Nigerian girl born in Lagos, with three ethnicities that shaped who I was. However, I quickly realized that how I was seen changed in a different context.

In the diaspora, unbeknownst to me, race seemed to be a prominent factor in how people perceive and identify themselves. As a Black person, I was now part of a larger community that had its own unique experiences and struggles. While I was proud of my Nigerian heritage, I was recognized as a Black person. My life soon revolved around it. I was the only Black girl in class or the first Black person to accomplish something.

Adding "Black" to my identity allowed me to acknowledge the racial dynamics of the society I was now living in and connect with a community of people who shared similar experiences and challenges. At 11 years old, struggling to understand the prejudice placed on me even before I spoke, I developed an interest in understanding the deeply rooted issues related to my Blackness. In primary school, I had read books about Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, and Rosa Parks, and I assumed these issues were resolved long before I was born. I became enthralled by race relations and embarked on a journey to learn how my Black identity changed the way I saw the world and how the world saw me.

My racial identity overtook other aspects of who I was. Before my nationality, my gender, or even my name, race was the first clue. My ideals, intentions, and abilities were assumed based on prejudice. However, I did not want to erase my Nigerian identity or minimize its importance in my life. Rather, I saw my Nigerian heritage as an integral part of my overall identity, one that enriched my experiences and perspective in the world. By maintaining a connection to my cultural roots, I was able to hold onto a sense of pride and belonging, even as I embraced a new aspect of my identity. Of course, my experience is not unique. Many before me have come to terms with the evolution of identity in all its complexities.

In conclusion, identity is complex and multifaceted. My identity has been a journey of self-discovery and growth. By acknowledging both my Nigerian heritage and my Black identity, I have been able to find a sense of belonging and community in nations that can often feel isolating. As I continue to navigate the complexities of identity, I am grateful for the richness and diversity that comes with embracing multiple aspects of my identity.