Photograph by Courtesy of Cartoon Network/Max
When you’re used to watching shows where nobody really looks like you, something changes the moment you finally do. That’s what happened with Iyanu: Child of Wonder. From the second it starts, it hits differently. The colors are bold, the animation feels alive, and the main character? She’s a girl with big hair, dark skin, and a whole lot of questions, just like you! She isn’t flawless and doesn’t aim to be. She makes mistakes, learns, and still takes charge, which is what makes her strong. Her power doesn’t stem from a life of ease but from her resilience.
Adding to the show’s appeal is the fact that the entire cast is made up of African voice actors. Every voice and accent feels authentic. You hear the essence of home, culture, and pride rather than imitations. The world of Iyanu is woven from Yoruba mythology, and that inspiration is palpable. Yet, regardless of whether you come from Nigeria, the U.S., or the islands, it resonates with you.
When you’re a Black girl, watching TV usually means seeing someone who looks nothing like you or seeing someone who’s only there to support the real main character. You start thinking that maybe your story doesn’t belong in the spotlight. So when you finally get a show like Iyanu, it doesn’t just look cool. It feels big and important because it is.
When little Black girls look at the show, they notice. She has hair like mine. Skin like mine. She’s smart and strong, but also unsure sometimes—and that’s okay. She leads anyway. She takes her time figuring things out. She grows into her power instead of pretending to already have it. It’s not some forced message about “Black Girl Magic.” It’s just a story that shows what happens when you’re allowed to take up space without having to prove you should be there. It resonates with them and pours that confidence into them. That’s the part that sticks.
Iyanu makes room for Black girls to be powerful, soft, brave, loud, quiet, unsure, and everything in between. It doesn’t try to explain why we matter; it simply shows it. The show treats us like we’ve always belonged in the center of the story. It doesn’t follow the usual rules for kids’ shows. It sets its own tone and raises the bar. It doesn’t try to blend in. It makes you look up.
Maybe that’s the best part: watching Iyanu doesn’t feel like watching a cartoon. It feels like watching a version of yourself do things you didn’t even know were possible. This show is smart. It’s exciting. It’s ours.