HAIR-NNIVERSARY – 1 YEAR (PART ONE)

Hello Hi,

It's been ages. I feel like I say this every time I write on my blog these days but a lot keeps happening including lots of travelling and work. I cannot believe that I did not even post on my birthday this year. All the same, thank you very much to all who wished me a happy birthday.

Today is a special day for me as it has been a year since I cut my hair! It's been a journey, I tell you, funny and strange and I wanted to share some of it with you, so here is part 1:

HAIR-NNIVERSARY – 1 YEAR

It’s been exactly a year since I chopped off my hair and even though I would not call it ‘the best decision of my life” (as I did not think it was that deep), I would say it was definitely a big deal for me. You see, I had not cut off my hair for over 15 years and it had grown to become a huge part of me, literally and emotionally. I had loved my hair unlike many others I knew, until after I left the shores of Africa and it began to experience challenges. Some said it was the weather, others said it was the water; it was probably a combination of both and other factors including the lack of appropriate hair care, unlike the one I used to receive back home and in Ghana, where I would go to the hairdresser salon at least twice a week (except when I wore braids). So over the years, the hair started to lose its original texture, colour and length; it had gone from a very dark colour to having streaks of brown with a lot of split ends, even though I had never dyed it. My hair was still full but it did not feel the same and after a few attempts to revive it and a bad incident of a false hairdresser aggravating the issue, I knew I needed to do something drastic to make a change.

So, I started considering chopping it off but I had some concerns including the lack of knowledge on whether it would ever grow again and the absurd fear of looking like a little boy. There were also decisions I had to make regarding the haircut:- would it be a small chop, where I would trim off all the relaxed parts or a slow chop, where I would do different hairstyles including the fringe cut popularly known as the Rihanna, or would it be a big chop where I would cut off the entire hair? After that ,what next – would I keep it short (if so, for how long?) or start growing it afresh immediately afterwards? If I grew it again, would it be grown naturally or relaxed; how would I be able to take care of it now, if I could not take care of it in the past? If I decided to cut my hair, when would I do it; randomly or perhaps on my 30^th birthday (as that was a time generally expected of a woman to make big changes)? I had several questions dancing around in my head for over a year, lots of conversations with my friends that had gone through similar paths, prayers from my mum before she finally gave her approval and I even had a few haircut misses, including on my 30^th birthday, where I chickened out.

It was not until last July (2018) that it finally happened. I was now in a more diverse city with lots of hair salons that catered for girls of my colour. Therefore, it was a good place for me to revive my hair through proper care, I thought to myself. The idea of cutting my hair was now much smaller, sitting somewhere at the back of my head, since I had decided to give my hair growth one more chance. It was on a Friday, July 6^th to be precise, that a friend of mine told me he was going to the barber’s salon. There was a ladies salon right next to it, he told me as he knew I had been looking for a place to do my hair since I was new to the city, so I chose to follow him. On the way there, I started teasing “you know, I might just cut my hair today”. He laughed and shook his head as he had heard me say that before. We got to the store; it had a big shop with hair products for both men and women and at the back, were the male and female salons, adjacent to each other. I took a number each for both salons and sat to wait my turn; whichever I got called into first would be my decision I thought to myself although at this point, I still thought I was kidding myself. As I sat there, I could not help but notice how calm the guys were, just sitting and their hairs being shaved off whereas some of the ladies looked like they were in discomfort with their heads tilted to different positions. I looked at the men with envy while still secretly hoping that I would be called first into the ladies.

Alas, in a few minutes, it was my turn to cut my hair. The barber signalled to me to take a seat and asked me what I wanted. I started to dig through my phone to find an old picture of a nice haircut I had saved back when I was seriously considering chopping my hair, when suddenly I heard someone shout:

“What are you planning to do?!” The other barber cutting my friend’s hair asked in surprise. “I’m going to cut my hair” I smiled nervously. “Ba why (But why)?” he asked, I could instantly tell that he was Ghanaian.

He turned to my friend “So you brought her here for this”, my friend responded that it was not his idea. On the other hand, my barber seemed not care and was already flexing his scissors.

“Don’t do it, please” The other barber insisted but my barber was ready. I already had the red cloth tied around me and with one huge round of chop, half of my hair was gone. I looked down to the floor to see the huge quantity of hair that had been shed. Seeing my hair brought a weird mixture of feelings; while one part of me initially felt like it was missing, another part of me felt like it was the beginning of freedom. And with the latter thought in my head, I held back tears and braved it through until the end

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Cheers. X