Anisa Haji: Fighting Colorism, Caring for Black & Brown Skin
“It doesn't matter your skin color, your eye color, your hair texture—you are beautiful the way God created you.”
Like many toddlers, Anisa Haji’s daughter loved Frozen. She especially adored Elsa, with her long blond braid and big blue eyes. One day after re-watching the movie for the upteenth time, she told Anisa, “I want to be beautiful too.”
Anisa and her husband were quick to reassure their Black, brown-eyed, curly-haired daughter that she is beautiful, just the way she is. But her daughter’s admiration for Elsa got Anisa thinking about the many ways that white-centered, Western beauty standards were imposed upon her children and her community.
Anisa’s daughter’s skin is noticeably darker than her three sons. Family members and strangers alike have told Anisa how cute her sons are—and hinted at how her daughter’s skin color makes her less pretty.
“What do you mean?” Ansia would ask, her heart hurting for her daughter. “They’re all cute.”
Anisa had become familiar with this dislike of dark skin growing up in North Eastern Kenya, where many markets sell whitening creams to women and girls longing for lighter skin. Those who can afford more serious treatments sometimes resort to illegal skin-bleaching injections.
Even in Minnesota and elsewhere in the United States, “there's so much obsession with fair skin, with white skin being more beautiful than Black or Brown,” says Anisa.
The market for skin-whitening treatments grew out of the dangerous intersection of capitalism and colonialism.
In countries where European superiority has been proclaimed through centuries of subjugation and exploitation, features such as thin noses, double eyelids, and light skin have come to be seen as the epitome of physical beauty. These beauty standards are perpetuated by companies like the infamous Fair & Lovely, looking to profit off white supremacy and the insecurities of women of color.
Anisa saw how colorism—prejudice against those with darker skin and preference for those with lighter skin, often within the same racial community—hurt the self-confidence of Black and Brown women. She found herself telling female relatives and friends what she had reminded her daughter: “It doesn't matter your skin color, your eye color, your hair texture—you are beautiful the way God created you.”
Not only does the societal denigration of dark skin hurt women psychologically, but the use of skin-whitening products can also harm them physically. Hazardous, corrosive chemicals in both legal and illicit substances may leave skin permanently damaged. In 2011, the Minnesota Department of Health found that many of these products contain dangerous levels of mercury. Some bottles and jars released enough mercury vapor when opened that living conditions in these homes could be considered unsafe.
Anisa and her husband were determined that their daughter would grow up feeling beautiful inside and out, comfortable in her melanated skin.
They started envisioning a future with their community liberated from dangerous beauty standards, each Black and Brown woman enjoying the confidence she deserves.
As partners in life but also in business, Anisa and her husband had previously run a successful home healthcare company together. Entrepreneurs at heart, they saw an opening in the beauty industry, a gap that should be filled by people of color who understood how to care for dark skin.
Anisa knew that they needed to start from scratch, with natural ingredients that would be gentle on the skin—especially skin damaged by whitening products. She and her husband developed formulas with traditional African and Asian beauty treatments such as Kenyan charcoal and neem leaves, which have anti-inflammatory and antibacterial properties.
She piloted their products at Karmel Mall, the local East African shopping center in South Minneapolis. After receiving glowing reviews from their first few customers, Anisa and her husband started selling on social media, calling their new brand Leonura—meaning “glow today.”
While her husband managed the labeling, the financials, and other behind-the-scenes work of their fast-growing business, Anisa—who has a master’s degree in international business management—found a natural role in marketing and social media. Her appearances on Snapchat, where she explains the composition and the benefits of various Leonura products, became their primary selling point. “Every person who follows me on social media I see as a potential customer for my business,” she says.
Anisa’s favorite part of running a small business is hearing success stories from customers, especially those who have been affected by colorism and harmful whitening products. She remembers one woman who came to her with concerns about damage from her previous use of bleaching cream. “I don't go anywhere without makeup because I hate my face, I hate the way I look,” she told Anisa.
After reassuring her that Black is beautiful, Anisa guided her toward Leonura’s most popular products for healing scars and other skin damage. A few months later, “she’s so comfortable with her skin that she made a video about our face masks, without makeup, to share with the world,” reports Anisa proudly.
With Anisa’s natural aptitude for connecting with customers, Leonura was expanding its base and selling its product quickly, both locally and internationally. The husband-and-wife team realized that in order to sustain the business, they needed to open a production facility and hire employees. Leonura opened its own factory in Kenya, which employs local women to prepare and package face masks, skincare oils, and other products.
“We want to empower these women who work with us. They have kids in school, they have families to take care of,” says Anisa. “Especially now during the pandemic, when a lot of people have lost their jobs, we make sure they have job security. Even when the market is slow, we make sure they get their paychecks on the first of every month.”
Like many small business owners, Anisa still works a day job for income security—and in her case, for community care. She has been in the social work field since immigrating to the United States and now serves as a Program Manager at Avivo, whose mission is to increase well-being through recovery and career advancement while working to end homelessness.
“It’s not just about the case number. We have a connection with our clients,” says Anisa. As an immigrant who came from a modest family in Kenya, she feels close to Avivo clients, knowing that “it could have been my parents if they were here, because they're not educated.”
Having sent their older children to prestigious universities around the world—Anisa went to school in Egypt and the United Kingdom—her parents are raising the youngest of her siblings in Kenya. Anisa hasn’t seen them in nearly six years, though she calls several times a week. “My mom is like my therapist,” she says. “My mom is my advisor and my Shero.”
“We all have days when we just don’t want to get up from our beds. On those days, I’ll remember my mom’s motivational words. She’ll always comfort me, share her wisdom, and remind me that God has the best plan for us.”
Anisa’s mother taught her what she tells all the women in her life, what she raises her own daughter to believe: “God does not make mistakes. He created every person perfectly.”
Through her nonprofit work and her skincare business, Anisa is reminding us that we all deserve to treat ourselves and be treated with care, dignity, and love. No matter our skin color or our outward appearance, Muslim women shine with natural, internal beauty. And Anisa shows us what it looks like to embody the confidence and the compassion that we should all strive for.