I Am Not My Hair.

I had a short conversation with one of my colleagues at the office today.

“I can see you are growing dreds”, he said

“Yes”, I replied

“Why?” he asked

I hesitated for a moment, and then I said the first thing that came to my mind

“Because I like it”

“But I don’t like it”, he said

“Really?”, I asked

He shook his head and then walked away.

People, this is not the first time I am getting this reaction about my hair. In fact, even when I was contemplating locking my hair, I received a lot of negative feedback from family and friends. I was almost pushed to change my mind but I didn’t. I stood my ground and went ahead to lock my hair against their opinion.

In fairness to my colleague, my dreds have gone 8 weeks without re-twisting(maintaining my roots) so it wasn’t exactly looking all smooth and sleek. It was very rough and unkempt with patches of grey scattered here and there, that’s what dreds generally look like but I didn’t expect him to understand anyway. In this part of the world, women are admired when they wear extensions or have their hair styled very tightly especially around the temple leading to traction alopecia in most cases. The standards of beauty for women around here is usually tied to us women wearing hair that is not naturally ours. Little wonder many women spend lots on cash on buying ‘human hair’…but I digress, that is a topic for another day.

His words reminded me of when I made the decision to go natural. I had been relaxing my hair, or let me use the popular phrase in the world of Naturalistas; addicted to the creamy crack for over 10 years. My hair was a disaster, full of split ends, gradually turning brown and thinning seriously especially around the edges. I watched helplessly as my once thick, jet black hair, gradually turned into a sorry state of lifeless and straggly, straight mess.  I just wanted to shave it off entirely. I then remembered how I’d always admired the popular singer, Lauren Hill’s thick and healthy locs, that was how I started toying with the idea of growing locs. 

I went online to read about dreads and I stumbled upon Napturally85’s YouTube videos and I was hooked. I was really impressed with how she managed her natural hair, I knew nothing about hair typing then, so I just assumed mine would turn out with heavenly curls if I washed it and applied Ecostyler gel. (What a laugh!). 

I went further to read testimonies of people whose hair practically resurrected from death by going natural. 

An article I read online about relaxers being possibly linked with fibroids in black women sealed the deal for me. Now I don’t know if that was just one of the numerous sales gimmicks to discourage women from using relaxers but I decided to transition.

The first month was easy peasy. I wore a protective style of big braids for a month, loosened, washed and deep conditioned with homemade coconut cream, then styled big braids again. After the second month, I started finding it very difficult to comb my hair, which was the major reason why my mother ever started relaxing my hair in the first place. I had to learn how to finger detangle, which took ages especially since I was working with two hair textures. By then, my hair stylist had started complaining about how difficult it was to part my hair. I was still using coconut oil on my hair, ignorant of the fact that I had protein sensitive hair and coconut oil was a no-no.

The first time I travelled to see my mom with my transitioning hair. I can vividly recall her expression. I was wearing a ‘not-so-smooth-looking’ weaves. She took one look at my hair and pursed her lips in disapproval. After taking several glances at my hair, she couldn’t hold herself back any longer, she blurted;

“Biko, I si no gini ka I na-emedi na isi gi a?” (Translation: Please what was it you said you’re doing on your hair?)

I calmly explained to her yet again, how I wanted to transition for a year, then cut off my hair and stop getting perms altogether.

.

“CUT YOUR HAIR?!! This beautiful, long hair?! Are you still serious with this your madness? ”, She asked perplexed. I tried to list the benefits of going natural but she wouldn’t listen. She just refused to accept the fact that natural hair can be beautiful, even when I showed her pictures online. 

Do you know that my mom invited one of her friends to give me a long lecture punctuated with ‘Mgbeke’ and ‘Mbanu’ here and there, including how people will see me as a small girl inviting small boys to make passes at me too.

“But Aunty, I already have grey hairs. Which small boy will make a pass at a woman with grey hair? Do small boys of these days like dating women old enough to be their mother?”

“You are making a jest of me abi nwatakiri a? How old are you that you are talking about grey hair? By the way, where is the grey hair sef?”

She stopped trying to convince me when she saw my mind was made up.

I went natural because I wanted a healthy hair more than anything else.

I still want a healthy hair more than anything else.

Three years later, my hair was so long and thick and wash days were gradually becoming a nightmare. It would take me hours to detangle, wash, deep condition and put my hair in Protective Style. I was not about that life. I was between cutting my hair short and locking my hair. I decided to go with the latter because of my long existing love for dreadlocks. I was discouraged as well. My mother didn’t really put up much fight this time around because guess what? She just recently started her own natural hair journey. I deserve a pat on the back for converting her right? In fact, these days, she calls me to ask if can use one concoction or the other on her hair. The other day, we were talking on the phone and she goes

“Ehen, I met this friend of mine in the market the other day and she said I could use potato juice to wash my hair. It will really help to darken my grey hairs.”

I laughed and replied

“Mom, I am rocking my greys at a young age, why are you trying to hide yours? Anyway, I read about that somewhere, but it will take a while to see the changes. You need to be patient and apply it judiciously for some months to see the effects.”

Presently, I am a year locked and if you know anything about dreads, you would know that it is a long journey. You don’t get long and smooth, beautiful locks in one day. It takes years upon years and lots of patience to achieve this. I am still stuck in the teenage phase and at this stage, the locs have a mind of their own, very frizzy and ‘mad-woman-like’ in nature. My edges are another story.

Some days, I look at my hair and think “oh my god! What did I do to my hair?”, other days I look at my hair and think “Wow, my dreads are really doing great! I don’t regret this decision”. The good hair days are definitely more than the bad hair days and I don’t miss my loose natural hair. Well, not so much.

I have received a lot of compliments on my hair. I mean people who appreciate the effort and the journey of good healthy locs marvel at my hair. It gives me great satisfaction to see their eyes round and jaws drop in disbelief when I tell them I am just a year locked. Contrary to popular opinion, you don’t need to cut your hair short to start dreads. You just need to go to a loctician who knows his onions. Most people actually think my dreadlocks are extensions. I don’t know if I should see that as a good thing or not.

So, what’s the reason for this long tirade?

I am not ashamed of my hair. A little research would teach us that locs are not to be feared or despised. In fact, they are associated with greatness. Locs have been dated back to Anno Dominium. Growing dreadlocks is related to the manes of the lion and is even inspired by the bible. The word ‘Nazarite’ originated from the ‘Nazar’ which means ‘unshorn’. Jesus Christ was said to be a Nazarite(Nazarene). Samson was described as a man whose source of strength came from his long, locked hair which were seven in number. Woolly, kinky and coily hair, if simply washed and left to dry uncombed will naturally turn to locs with time.

Whilst I never made the decision to embark on this journey for spiritual reasons, I still love my hair and I choose to see it as a symbol of greatness and strength. I made the decision to loc my hair at a very critical point in time in my life and I don’t regret it. 

In that year alone, I have achieved a lot in terms of independence, inner strength and self-love. I have also rediscovered myself in many more ways than one. I have even been able to let go of so much pain and bitterness which I harboured for some time over some certain people as I work strictly on building a better version of myself every day. I have felt bouts of positive energy and strength, propelling and encouraging me on days when I would’ve ordinarily given up. 

Yes, I know that my hair may prevent some people from wanting to associate with me, but I don't think I need those people in my life anyway. 

Everybody is entitled to his own opinion, likes and desires. Whilst he can choose to express himself by telling me he doesn’t like my hair, I also have the choice of deciding how I want to wear my hair. To the best of my knowledge, my workplace is multicultural and filled with people from diverse backgrounds. We do not have a specific dress code and we certainly do not have a ban on dreadlocks as this was one of the major concerns I had when I wanted to lock my hair.

That said, I am going to call my loctician right now to schedule a long overdue appointment to maintain my roots over the coming weekend.  I am not doing this to be liked or accepted, I am only doing this because I want to.

 Another one of my loc crushes.

Asa.