Racism is not a Day. It is a System.
- 7 hours ago
- 3 min read
To be fair, I almost forgot today is the International Day Against Racism.
I have never really been a big believer in these kinds of awareness days. Not because the topic is not important. Quite the opposite. It is too important to fit into just one day. Racism does not appear once a year. It is everywhere. And for me, it is deeply personal.
I grew up watching my stepfather navigate a world that too often saw him as a threat before it saw him as a human being. He is late now, but I still remember the stories. How simply walking next to my mother could lead to suspicion, to questioning, to racial profiling. Just because his skin was darker. Love did not protect them. Nothing did.
Now those stories are not just memories. They repeat themselves. My husband has experienced racial profiling, racist comments, and the quiet ways a system places you at an unequal starting point.
When he came to Switzerland, people mocked his first name so often that he made a quiet decision to go by his English name. Not because it is who he is, but because he hoped it would make things easier. Easier than watching people not even try to pronounce “Chijioke.” Easier than being dismissed again and again. A name is identity. And yet, even that did not make him fully accepted. It only meant he would be a little less disadvantaged.
And then, there are our children. They are learning, far too early, what it means to be seen as different. They have all experienced racism themselves. Being called the N-word. Being looked at. Being made to feel less. And as a mother, those moments stay with me longer than I wish they did.
And on days like this, I am reminded that it does not stop with us. It shows up in systems, in institutions, in the way history is told, and in the way it is defended. Just yesterday, there was a lot of discussion here in Switzerland about the Museum Rietberg in Zurich returning Benin Bronzes, artworks that were looted during colonial times and are now finally being returned to Nigeria. But the official title of the media event held on March 20, 2026, was not “return of stolen Benin objects.” It was “transfer of ownership of the Benin objects.” Full article in English: UZH Returns Benin Bronzes to Nigeria | | UZH Do you see how that tells a different story? Transfer of ownership. As if these pieces were ever rightfully owned by anyone else but the people of Benin. As if this were a neutral exchange, and not the return of something that was stolen.
I opened the comment section of the article hoping to read people acknowledging that this return was long overdue. That it was the right thing to do. But instead, I found countless racist comments. People writing that if Switzerland is “giving back” the bronzes, then maybe it should also “send the people back.” Referring to Black people. To my husband. To my children. Reading that, on a day like today, is a reminder that racism is not just history. It is present. It is spoken. It is written. And too often, it is tolerated. We still have a long way to go.
And this is why I refuse to stay silent. Because silence does not protect us. It does not make things easier. It only allows things to stay the same. So I speak up. I speak up when my son is asked to sing a racist song at school. I write my own children’s books because I cannot find enough that reflect my children’s reality. I insist my children answer their Igbo names, and I encourage them to take up space, even in places where they are not fully welcomed, even in spaces where racism is obvious. Because they deserve to belong. Fully.
I want them to understand that their roots are not something to hide, but something to stand firmly on. And if someone struggles to pronounce their names, they will teach them. Because they have a right to their identity. We cannot wait for change to happen around us. We have to be part of it. And we can all choose to be allies. Knowledge. Courage. A strong backbone.
We are here. We are not going anywhere. And we will not be silent. Anti -Racism is an everyday practice!
As a mom raising my kids who are young adult male in Canada, I see them being seen as a threat before being seen as human—that is the quiet burden so many of our teenage boys carry every single day. It is a painful distortion of truth, one that strips away innocence and replaces it with suspicion. Racism is not just wrong—it is deeply harmful, and it has no place in our communities, our systems, or our hearts. It must be confronted, challenged, and brought to an end.