'Disnee was the first girl I worked with – the original Milk Honey Bee. Meeting her was like meeting myself in the mirror. After so many years of being misunderstood it was strange to find someone whose story was nearly identical to mine.
'Our work together started with me just being there to listen – whether she wanted to speak to me or not. At the time I didn’t even realise I was creating a structure for the future, a framework for how to work with Black girls that deserve to be heard, listened to, and talked to, not at.
'Behaviour is a form of communication and is too often misdiagnosed as problematic rather than seen as layered and in need of concern and patience to uncover. Milk Honey Bees works to break these cycles and stereotypes of the problematic Black girl.
'None of this is about creating something in Black girls that wasn’t there to begin with.
This is about recognising that when you live in a world that acts like it doesn’t see you, you will slowly start to believe that you are invisible. That you don’t matter. When the reality is you are everything and more, inside and out. This is about ensuring that Black Girlhood is present, not erased.
'See her, before you speak at her.
'Ask her, before you assume.
'Learn how to pronounce her name.
'Seek out the support she needs.
'Protect Black girls. Listen to Black girls. Cherish Black girlhood.'
- Ebinehita Iyere, founder of Milk Honey Bees
Disnee was the first Milk Honey Bee, and her relationship with Ebinehita paved the way for the charity. In her own words, this is her story.
My name is Disnee-Terrene, I am a young Black woman raised in the heart of Deptford, South East London.
I began my educational journey at St Mary’s Primary School in Lewisham, and then went onto St Matthew’s Academy, also in Lewisham. I didn’t have the most straightforward childhood. I was raised by my Nan and her son (my uncle). My grandma gained full custody of me, and from then life began.
Some would say I was spoilt, but I would say my Nan just loved me like her own. 'A beautiful brown child; the curliest hair and the loudest cry,' is how she would describe me. Growing up I was very boisterous, and by the time I was able to dress myself I was in nothing but tracksuits and trainers. I played football at school and table tennis at afterschool club – nothing girly ever amused me.
Fast forward to secondary school - I must admit I wasn’t the most well-behaved. I was the typical loudmouth, light-skinned girl, in the longest skirt that my Nan used to pay me £5 a day to wear. I was a big dreamer. In school, my biggest dream was to find my mum and all my siblings and live happily ever after. Sadly, my sister Chyna-Blu who suffered with cerebral palsy passed away 10 February 2014. It took a big chunk out of me, and I have never been the same since. After that I got excluded; I fought and my mouth used to run like a tap against any teacher, so much so that I found myself getting moved to Sedgehill School in Year 9.
Out of school, I spent a lot of time at Woodpecker Youth Club and hanging around the estates of Deptford. I made loads of friends out of school and would spend a lot of time in the Youth Club. Before I knew it, these friends had become family. We would all rush to meet up after school and get to Woodpecker. Woodpecker was home. The staff made sure we all respected one another, and it was like one huge family. Time went on, and the family grew, so big that we were now a gang: a gang full of talented footballers, rappers, artists. You name it, we had someone that could do it. At the time, without realising it, we let our environment get ahead of us.
As a collective, we started to move into the street life and spend more time out of the Youth Club and more in the stairways of flats and on the ‘block’ – absolutely unaware of where this would lead us. Time went on and we had made enemies; we were officially a gang (a loyal one, I must say).
I became more and more boisterous, there was no lady left in me, and my priorities were scrambled all over the place. My grades were never ever low since primary school, they were always average and above if I wasn’t misbehaving, but by now my behaviour wasn’t the problem. My friend Myron Yarde (Mdot) died due to gang violence in April 2016. Another brother, Leoandro Osemeke (Showkey), died due to gang violence August 2016. The two main characters of the ‘gang’ were gone.
I was 16 years old and absolutely lost. Coldhearted, confused, suicidal. I just didn’t understand how two best friends could die months apart. Was I next? Is someone else I love next?
Both Mdot and Showkey were artists, so this was no average death. It went viral. Two rapper best friends, months apart. People were reaching out to me from all over the world and my DMs were crowded with fans paying their condolences, hatemail, interviewers. It was all a bit much for me at the time and I barely responded to any of them.
One day, I got a message. The message.
This message stood out to me because it was from a woman I didn’t know, showing nothing but care. It was a bit strange, I must say, but out of all my jam-packed DMs I chose to reply to this one, for some reason. To Ebinehita Iyere.
And here it begins, a new path, a new relationship. Ebi reached out with condolences and care, she explained she had her own experiences in the streets as a young girl and went on to tell me about the new path she was on.
I gave her my number and we met up. Our first meeting was a hair appointment; she had arranged for me to get braids and I remember the hairstyle so clearly. I know it sounds absolutely bizarre to just meet up with someone from Instagram, but that just goes to show how lost and wounded I was. Our favourite spot was Nando’s and, although we had only had Instagram conversations and phone calls, I felt like I had known this woman forever! She asked so many questions about me – there was some kind of urgent care she had for me. It was like being in school and having a mentor all over again, and, to be honest, at that time that’s all I needed.
Ebi made promises and she never failed me. From Nando’s to just being there, she always pulled through. Our relationship instantly grew with more Nando’s dates and more 1:1 phone calls. I felt like God had sent a little angel on my shoulder to guide me to a better direction. I started getting into situations, pausing and remembering things Ebi had told me. She never once made rules or regulations, it was always a free space. She would never push her opinion onto me, she would only be there to guide whatever decision I made. The respect levels were mutually high and that’s why I trusted her. There was no judgement, she opened up to me too, and that’s why I trusted her so much.
waterstone Girlhood Unfiltered: A Milk Honey Bees essay collection (Paperback)
I was still in and out of trouble, but no matter what time I called her from the police station she would answer. Ebi started to introduce me to people she worked with, and I started to see the vision; she always went on about eventually having a bigger foundation and helping more young ladies everywhere. Ebi was good to me. It felt selfish for me to keep her to myself. I introduced her to my friends who were also going through some things. She treated them the exact same: unlimited guidance and help. But we always had our thing from the start, I was her ‘Shuggy’ as she’d call me. Time went on and our relationship grew.
I started to understand Ebi’s story more. I felt like I was growing. In school, I’d always had a mentor, but they always left as I began to trust them. This would spark up a lot of emotions for me, as my mum did the same thing, but Ebi never left. She was always there – even the times I didn’t want her there, that woman was going to show face!
Nowadays, me and Ebi may not speak for a few weeks, but the love never changes. Our relationship carved me as a woman. I had a higher calling in the mentoring lifestyle, which I wasn’t aware of until Ebi came along. She made my dreams realistic, and now watching her blossom and work with other young people is even more inspiring. I am proud to be a part of Ebinehita Iyere’s story and I’m sure I am not the only one.
I am now studying Counselling Level 3, going onto Level 4, and also working with a few young people as a kind of informal mentor. I hope to grow and make a bigger foundation just like Ebi has. Although I can’t escape gang violence that easily, I can honestly say my life is now smoother and I am away from that mentality, with nothing but help from my angel Ebinehita Iyere.
