By Prosper Mene
The advocate shares how name-calling, scarves, and social media led her to self-acceptance
My name is Ruth Akinwole.
I was 8 years old when I first noticed the patches on my face. At the time, I didn’t understand what was happening. My parents thought it was eczema and assumed it would eventually go away. So I just kept living my life.
As I got older, I realized my skin was changing in a way that made me stand out. And the comments started.
“Coke and Fanta”
The one that still sticks with me happened in Primary 5. A classmate started calling me “Coke and Fanta” because of the different colours on my skin. Every time he said it, I got angry. I didn’t understand why something I never chose could be used to mock me.
Out of frustration, I once told him, “What happened to me will happen to you too.” I was just a child trying to defend myself.
“Coke and Fanta” wasn’t the only name. People accused me of bleaching. I was called “Ojuju Calabar” and “half-caste.” They were often said as jokes, but they cut deep.
What I have is vitiligo — a condition that causes loss of skin pigmentation.
Hiding Behind Scarves
Vitiligo shaped how I saw myself all through primary school, secondary school, and even during my National Diploma.
My self-esteem was at its lowest then. Anytime I was going out, I’d try to cover my face with scarves. I didn’t want stares. I didn’t want questions. Most of all, I didn’t want my skin to be the first thing people saw about me.
For years, I struggled with being different.
Finding Myself Online
Social media changed that.
For the first time, I saw people with vitiligo who looked like me and they weren’t hiding. No scarves. No apologies. They were just living.
That representation did something to me. I started sharing vitiligo awareness online, and slowly, I became more comfortable in my skin. But I still hadn’t fully found my confidence.
That came when I stopped being shy. I started going to events. I started conversations without worrying about how people saw me. I stopped letting other people’s opinions decide how I felt about myself.
Today, I’m happy about my different skin tone. What once made me feel “other” is now part of what makes me proud.
Why I Speak Up
My story isn’t just mine.
There are people living with vitiligo who still have very low confidence. Some are hearing the same comments I heard growing up. Some are hiding because they haven’t seen anyone who looks like them living boldly.
That’s why I started advocating.
Awareness and representation matter. Sometimes, seeing one person with your same condition show up confidently is enough to remind you: you are not alone. You can still attend events, build a career, make friends, and chase what you love. You don’t have to wait for the world to understand your skin before you accept yourself.
To Anyone With Vitiligo
You are beautiful and unique. Your skin does not reduce your worth.
You don’t have to hide because you look different. You don’t have to spend your life trying to fit into someone else’s definition of beauty.
I spent years being shy about something I didn’t choose.
Today, I choose to embrace my skin.
I choose to see the beauty in being different.
And most importantly, I choose to use my story to remind someone else that they can do the same.