Thando Hopa
grew up in the shade, her porcelain skin protected by long sleeves and
sunscreen until the day the South African decided to fight prejudice
against albinos by becoming a model.
Petite and
born with an inherited depigmentation of her skin from head to toe that
can lead to discrimination and even death, Hopa entered the fashion
world without the usual vital statistics required of a catwalk model.
Ghostly,
with no make-up bar vivid fuchsia on her lips and hair sculpted to a
magnificent bleached height, she exploded onto the cover of the first
Forbes Life Africa back in 2013.
"It's
one of the most beautiful pictures I've had taken," says Hopa, though
it took years for her to grow comfortable with a bare face, her pale
eyebrows almost invisible.
"I
was much younger then. I could never go out without make-up... But as
time goes on, your confidence just grows," she says. "It took years for
me to get to a point where I could walk around without make-up."
Hopa
is a lawyer operating in the heart of Johannesburg, not far from the
offices where Nelson Mandela worked as an attorney in the 1950s.
"I had
been approached to do modelling before, but I didn't go for it because I
never saw the benefits. I thought, 'It's such a shallow profession --
why would I want to do that? I am a lawyer.'"But after crossing paths with designer Gert-Johan Coetzee in downtown Johannesburg in 2012, she began thinking differently.
"Gert came to me and asked me if I would like to do a shoot and I said I would consider it," recalls Hopa. "And then I spoke to my sister. And my sister said to me, 'Don't look at modelling as modelling. Look at it as an opportunity for you to actually change perception of albinism. Remember how you grew up. Remember how people really treated you.'"
The
third born in a family of four children –- her youngest sibling was
also born with albinism –- Hopa grew up with seemingly little to
complain about, doted on by a filmmaker mother and an engineer father
who never missed a chance to tell her she was "the most beautiful little
girl".
But even in South Africa, where reports of albinos being
murdered and their organs trafficked are extremely rare, she encountered
prejudice and misunderstanding. Strangers hugged her as a symbol of good luck, others spat to fight her bad luck. Teachers misread her poor eyesight -– a side effect of albinism –- as her being mentally challenged.
- 'When you were born I was shocked'
Hopa uses a magnifying glass to read, is not allowed to drive, and shuns stilettos. So her first jaunt down a catwalk was something of a miracle.
"The dress was gorgeous –- black and green. I can tell you, I have never felt so expensive in my life. But I was actually so scared because in essence that was the first time I really walked in heels. I was even saying a little prayer when I was walking, 'God, please don't let me fall on this catwalk!' I was absolutely frightened."
For all it's brought her now, there was a time when Hopa was distressed by the realisation that she was different, when as a self-conscious girl of 12, increasingly aware of boys and her changing body, she ran to her father in tears.
"I came crying, and I said, 'Why am I not like other children? Everybody makes fun of me and I have to wear these stupid hats, and I always have to put on sun cream.' And I was crying and crying.
"And you know, my
father is a wonderful man, but he doesn't really know how to deal very
well with emotions. So he looked at me, and said, 'My child, let me be
honest with you: when you were born, I was also shocked!'"
It's a memory she can laugh at now she's 25 and confident.
"On
that day, more than anything, I wondered if my life would be different,
if people would have treated me differently. But I could never picture
myself looking different even now."
No comments:
Post a Comment