Shame has taken on many forms over the years. It lurks in the way we dress, in how we perceive our bodies, and in the weight of others’ opinions pressed upon us.
Somewhere along the way, shame became woven into the fabric of our culture. Yet, our ancestors draped themselves in elegant wrappers that bared their shoulders, adorned their heads with towering gele, and tied mini-wrappers that, at times, left their busts uncovered—without a whisper of disgrace. The naked body was neither scandalous nor taboo; it simply was. People were free to exist as they were, unburdened by imposed modesty.
Fast forward to today, and a mere sliver of skin—a short skirt, a crop top, a plunging neckline, or an open back—invites scrutiny. We tug at hemlines, throw wrappers over shoulders, and scold with, “This isn’t our culture.” But isn’t it? Or have we been seduced by a foreign ideal of modesty, one that erases the confidence of our forebears?
We are even criticised for wearing certain traditional hairstyles and cultural garments in specific settings because others have deemed them inappropriate or only suitable as costumes.