NO FIRE ON THE MOUNT

Hello hi,

Happy new month! It's February already , how these months fly, I can't understand. The next thing I know, we might be celebrating Christmas again. Oh well, I hope that the month of January was a good one for you at least. Mine was busy but great; lots of opportunities that I am thankful to God for.

I was initially going to share a different story today, but I decided to share this one. Enjoy and fell free to share with friends.

NO FIRE ON THE MOUNT

The year had only just begun, at least for Stella, even though it was already the first day of the second month. She had been sleep-deprived for days, owing mostly due to her work load, but also partly because of indiscipline in going to bed early. This habit used to be unusual for her until recent times, where she found herself walking around in aimlessly in her apartment or watching random videos on Youtube until the late hours of the night. She blamed the insomnia on the weather; it was awful! She also blamed it on her hormones, they were sometimes annoying visitors. So once again, she had failed to sleep early on the last day of January and before she could help herself, the clock struck past midnight. She had failed to even realise it was the start of February, the month of love. However, that did not mean much to her anyway, as she had never had the chance to really celebrate it. In the past, she had hoped for a day where she would go out on Valentine’s day for a romantic dinner with someone special and be showered with lots of gifts, mostly expensive ones as that was her taste. She had occasionally received gifts, chocolates, and flowers on valentine’s day but they had never been from lovers. Therefore, that day was still yet to come for her. But this particular day was not the day for such thoughts. She really needed to go to bed now because she had a hair appointment in the morning. Thus, she would need to wash and dry her hair before the hair dresser came.

As she prepared for the night - her usual face and mouth wash, and change into her nightwear, she could not help but notice the smell of cigarette smoking coming into her apartment. Damn that new neighbour again! He was a weird looking dude who she never spoke to. He must have been smoking on the corridor or close enough, for the smell to penetrate into her apartment. In general, she loathed the smell of the smoke, weed, and every other drug. She wondered if there was a way she could stop this neighbour from smoking – she had already stopped the other neighbour from smoking on the shared balcony, but this new guy looked like he would be more difficult to manage. Besides, it was too late for her to knock on his door so she searched the internet to see if smoking inside the apartment was illegal. Sadly, there did not seem to be a clear cut rule and so for she had to let it go. At least the smell was not in her bedroom, she said to herself, as she cuddled under her blanket and began to doze off.

Krrrr krrrr krrr…a continuous loud sound startled her from her dream. It took her a few minutes to realise that it was the fire alarm. Oh gosh, what could the matter be?! She waited in her bedroom for five minutes but the alarm continued. She knew she was supposed to leave the building until it stopped but she felt incredibly tired and only hoped that it would be a false alarm. Her watch told her that the time was half past 1 am. Ten minutes later, nothing had changed. She was beginning to hear the sounds of other neighbours leaving their apartments but she stubbornly stayed back in hers. Another five minutes passed and then she called the fire department. They asked her if there was an actual fire in the building, she said she did not think so but that she thought it came from her neighbour smoking. They said there was nothing they could do about it and asked her to dial 911. She called 911, repeated the same story and they transferred her to the fire department. The firemen were on their way and had asked her to wait for them downstairs, so she grabbed her coat and started the descent. It was then that she realised that she had much more neighbours in the building than she had ever thought. A lot of them were already on the ground floor. Her eyes caught a cute guy and so, she quickly removed her sleeping cap. The firemen were there in no time and she beckoned on them to come up to her floor. However, the fighters went to the first floor. She was persistent, telling them that the smoke came from her neighbour but they ignored her. She bumped into another neighbour who told her that some people on the first floor had been smoking weed and that had triggered the alarm. However, she was convinced that it was her own neighbour and kept trying to urge the firemen towards her floor. After several back and forth, they turned off the alarm and declared it a ‘false alarm’.

Stella was livid; it was not “false”, she told the firemen.

“Were you the one that called us” one of them asked.

She admitted that she was, while she wondered whether they would fine her. She had read somewhere that people who called for fake alarms would be fined. But the firemen did not, rather they explained to her that they were not allowed to go into people’s apartments unless there was an actual fire, and that the alarm had pointed them elsewhere. Additionally, since the alarm did not go back on after they turned it off, that meant that the building was safe.

 Stella sighed and went back upstairs. She was still upset because her sleep had been interrupted and given that she always involuntarily woke up by 6am, she was sure to not get enough sleep by morning. This incident made her remember her time in England during her previous studies; one night when they were evacuated from her apartment building because an idiot had decided to boil an egg by 2am and then had fallen asleep. Who would be so hungry to boil an egg by that ungodly hour, she had asked back then, and who would be so foolish to fall asleep before the 10 minutes it took to boil an egg? As she reminisced, tossing and turning on her bed, she fell asleep again.

Thank you for reading my post and please leave a comment and share. I will be updating you along the year. In the meantime, keep visiting my blog and follow my Instagram page @lavivsblog and twitter @vivio_gogo for more updates. My main Instagram page is @ugochiukah
Have a beautiful week ahead. x

2020 YEAR GOALS AND 2019 GOALS REVIEW

Hello hi,

Happy Sunday. This is my second post of the year. I hope the year has been going good for you all. I’m trying hard to achieve personal goals and objectives that I have set out for myself and that includes blogging J . So today, I would like to share with you a review of my 2019 goals and my goals for 2020. I always like to make plans, whether I keep them is a different story, hee hee. However, I feel that sharing them helps to keep me accountable – first, it means that I have it not only written down but also posted on the internet and like they say, the internet never forgets. So even if I forget what my goals are, I can always scroll on my blog or I’m pretty sure that some of my tatafo (gossip) blog readers would remind me or ask me about them at some point, lol. So that’s why I post them on my blog. In the past, I would pin them to my office board right next to me, because that was where I used to spend the most of my time but last year, I decided to start putting them on my fridge with a magnet. In a way, it was me reminding myself that I should spend more time at home or at least have a work-life balance, which I really tried to do last year. So here were my 2019 and 2020 goals and my 2019 self-score below:

Spot the difference between the 2 year goals.

So basically, I scored myself 3 out of 10 for my last year goals, how ridiculous! Looking back at my goals, most of them were not unrealistic but somehow I had not managed to meet them. For example, the weight goal - there were times I weighed 58kg but I could hardly maintain it. However, I know I was not unfit, as I had spent a lot of time last year doing physical activity and exercise – Zumba 4-5 days a week, ballroom dance once a week, and walking half an hour every day. So I suspect that the extra 2 kg I had were muscle weight. Therefore, I’m not mad at myself even though I’d still prefer the former weight and so I have carried this over to this year.

Dating at least twice a month…where do I even start from? I had began last year with this goal and of course I signed up on dating websites to catch some big fish. For the most part, I ended up catching tiny fish, eels, snails, crayfish etc. instead of the fresh fish or whale I had hoped for. So yes, I was able to go out on dates to meet my goals but they were not fruitful and were time-consuming. There were times I would be on a date and even though I would have nothing else to do at home, lying down on my bed seemed preferable to me. And it was not because I did not like to date people but rather because I could see no future with these guys, in addition to the fact that they bored the heck out of me. I will write about some of them on my blog later. Don’t get me wrong though, I had some pretty good dates and experiences including going to an opera which I enjoyed (plus it was free J ). However, no one went much further and at some point, these dates started becoming a pain rather than an achievement to me. Therefore, as one who values herself and time, I had to re-evaluate this particular goal by the end of April. Did I want quantity over quality? Was it more important to achieve this goal but lose myself? In the end, I decided to scrap it and by the end of May, I had left those sites and started to feel free again. That’s not to say that I’ll never date or go to those sites again but I’ve learnt that this is NOT a goal for me and so I’m not carrying it or any type of relationship goal over. One less goal, Phew!

Next – publishing at least 10 academic papers. When 1 of my colleagues saw this, she said I was crazy and maybe she’s right. If you are in the academic world, you’d understand how hard it is to publish 1 paper, not to talk about 10 in one year, except you are a PI (Principal investigator) and you have some expert data analysts and students helping you do a lot of the work. And yet, the over-ambitious me put this down as a goal. I only published 2 articles – 1 first-author one in a nice journal (high-impact factor, see here) and an editorial (here) but at least I wrote a few manuscripts so hopefully I can meet up this year. Maybe I’m still crazy to hope to achieve this during this year but I love to be hopeful.

Writing competition – You know what, I should score myself fully for this because I actually entered into one competition which I did not win,  but it does not matter because the goal was not about winning. Also, I wrote an academic grant which I believe counts because it is a competition and I had not specified what type of competition. So scrap the half mark, I give myself a full mark which means I have 3 and a half marks now. Yay!

Oui, French! Everyone says I have improved including my French teacher but I am not yet where I wish to be so I’ll keep working on it. I’m also going to double my efforts so I can see more results.

As for swimming and biking, I had no time during the summer last year as my special guest was around. If you read my previous story here, you’ll understand why I could not achieve swimming in 2018. But this year, I think I’ll consider signing up for swim class even outside the summer since it’ll be an indoor pool anyway. And as for biking, maybe I’ll just go to the Netherlands or any similar European country for a few months and that will force me to learn, ha ha.

Arts - I went for one paint class last year and I enjoyed it so I hope to go for more this year. I also want to get myself a keyboard before the end of next month so I’ll see how that goes. I did not start any money-making business, I don’t even think I had one in mind but I’ll think harder this year so I’ve left it out for now.

Finally, I registered to volunteer with an organization to mentor women, which I am excited about but I have not yet officially started because last year, my schedule never fit well. So I hope to start this year, thus I gave myself half mark.

And that’s it for my 2019 goal review. I have made my 2020 goals, some of which are similar to 2019’s – spot the difference. As I said, I will make more efforts this year by God’s special grace but ultimately I leave everything in the hands of my creator. As long as I have peace, I feel fulfilled. I also joined a vision group where we are to encourage each other in meeting our goals. So I had to make this vision board below. How about you, what are your 2020 goals? Are they similar to mine?

Thank you for reading my post and please leave a comment and share. I will be updating you along the year. In the meantime, keep visiting my blog and follow my Instagram page @lavivsblog and twitter @vivio_gogo for more updates. My main Instagram page is @ugochiukah

Have a beautiful week ahead. x

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2020 AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ODI

Hello hi,

Happy New Year! Yay! It’s the start of a new decade; so exciting! Actually, it’s not exactly a New year where I currently am, but it is where I was born so I’m going with that time zone (ha ha!) It’s also my younger sister’s birthday so it’s usually a double celebration for our family. By the way, I am super excited to announce that I have finally opened my official Instagram blog account (@lavivsblog)! It still needs some work but please follow and share in the meantime.

This year had been a funny one for me. My life almost felt like a pendulum – oscillating up, left, right, down... There were times when I would get annoying news, and then almost immediately afterwards, hear good news and vice versa; it was so confusing. Many times I did not know whether to laugh or cry; I’m sure there were times when I did both at the same time. But in all, I survived by God’s grace; I’m still here - strong, healthy, and happy, and for these, I am grateful to the Almighty. You should be thankful too, because you are alive reading this blog post. J

This year, I had many first encounters – encounter with, new cities, new guys, and even with the Police! I also had lots of unplanned reunions; it was like I re-met someone from each phase of my life this year. I’ll tell you about these later via my blog and as usual, I’ll be sharing my 2020 goals and an evaluation of my 2019 goals (which I think I did not do too bad on). However, for now, this post is dedicated to my younger sister and so I have made a poor attempt to write a short poem. Poetry has never been my strength even though it was what I started with as a writer, when I was about seven years old; so please don’t judge! Hee hee! Enjoy:

AN ODE TO ODI

Mama came home bearing gifts and a baby, I was told that I was now a big sister

The gifts were due to the New Year delivery, T’was a special day though not on an Easter

My five year reign had abruptly ended, No longer was I the last born of the home

I looked at baby with curiosity extended, Her eyes shone like a gemstone

She was given the name Cynthia and Odi, a name that pleases GOD

She spoke and walked before a year old, a child that was never bored

Thus she had to go early to school, a nearby one called Santa Maria

Somewhere she could learn to doodle, until we figured out her future career

Many years gone by with tide, she was now a young woman of steel

Her eyes still shone bright and wide, especially during a Christmas sale

Street-smart and no longer a smallie, elegant and blessed in many ways

Always still full of lively stories, I pray she blossoms more every day.

Happy birthday to my only little sister, the dark brown-skinned woman! May God keep and bless you beyond your imaginations, Amen!

Thanks for reading and have a wonderful 2020. Don’t forget to leave a comment under the post, like and share the post, and follow me on Instagram: official blog is @ lavivsblog, personal IG (@ugochiukah) and twitter (@vivio_gogo) for updates.

THE MAN IN THE POOL

Hello hi,

I hope your Holiday/Christmas season is going well. As I promised, I have another blogpost - the last one before the new year. I hope you've read my previous posts; if not, please check them out. Below is a new post, I hope you will enjoy it :)

THE MAN IN THE POOL

As 2019 is drawing to an end, I cannot help but think about my goals I had listed for the year, what I have achieved and what I have not. “Learning how to swim” was a goal that I had be carrying over since 2016; possibly way before then. I had taken classes before – group lessons, lessons with friends, and lessons with random strangers in the pool trying to help me, but I was still inept at swimming. This year, I had planned to enroll in a private swimming class but I had an August visitor; I mean this in both literal senses, as actually a very special guest visited me in August and during the whole summer. Therefore, I did not have enough time to take on extra activities as I had to do some tour guidance. However, this post is not about this year but rather about the year before – 2018. Ah oui, 2018 was the year I was sure that I would achieve my swimming goals for several reasons.

First of all, I had just finished taking group swim classes. I did not learn much from the classes as they were each thirty minute sessions, with eight students in them and one teacher. So of course, before the teacher could go from one person to another, the class would be over. Nonetheless, I had developed more confidence being in the pool despite my swimming techniques remaining amateur, if at all existent. This was still a great progress for me, as every non-swimmer knows that the fear of the pool is the beginning of drowning. Okay, I just made that up but I’m sure you understand what I mean. So after the group class, I had developed more ‘ginger’ (the zeal to learn) and got myself some prescription swim goggles, better swim caps, and sexier swimsuits. I went as often as possible to the pool by myself while awaiting the perfect time for me to make the next step, which was to take a bunch of private lessons. The perfect time came shortly afterwards, in the summer when I had cut my hair. Now there was no need to for me to think about long hair wash and drying after swimming, or even to cover my hair in the pool if I did not feel like it. Alas, I was finally ready!

I was now living in a new city and had to find a swim instructor. Just like I did when I took my driving lessons the year before, my plan was to find a cheap instructor who would teach me and then, I would later quickly polish my skills with a professional swimmer, if needed. In case you don’t know this about me, I am frugal. So I went online – Kijiji and Craigslist to search for someone who would hopefully be cheaper than what I had seen advertised on the websites of gyms and sports centres. Unfortunately, my new gym did not have a pool so I would have had to register in another gym and pay as well, to be able to use their instructors. I eventually found someone online who claimed to be a swimming champion in his home country. I contacted him and booked our first lesson after bargaining and settling on a good first lesson promo price. We planned to meet the next weekend in a public swimming pool not too far from my house.

I was by the pool in my swimsuit, five minutes before the set time. I knew he was already there as he had texted me when he got there, and so I tried to find him. There were already a few people in the pool although it was not yet packed. My eyes immediately caught the swift movement of one the swimmers; I watched as the fellow swam towards me, impressed by his dolphin kicks but still not sure if that was my new teacher. Finally, he rose from the pool, and brushed his dark hair away from his face as the water fell across his toned physique. His body reminded me a bit of Michael Phelps and I tried not to stare lustfully. At least, if that was my teacher, I knew he was not lying about knowing how to swim. I just hoped that he would also know how to teach. As my mind wondered within seconds, he looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back; he was my teacher.

I got into the pool after we exchanged pleasantries and the lesson started immediately.

“So show me what you can do” He demanded.

“Erm, I can’t really do much” I said, losing confidence in myself after having watched him previously swim like a fish.

I showed him my naïve ways of floating, kicking, and pushing myself off the edge of the pool. My breathing technique under the water was close to abysmal and so we began working on that. Afterwards, we worked on kicking and hand stroke movements. He was a very good teacher, with lots of encouragement and patience, and I was thoroughly impressed. We practised and practised, taking short breaks in between whenever I needed one. While on my breaks, Mike would swim a lap; I could tell that he really enjoyed being in the pool.

In the course of the lesson, I learnt more about him. His name was Mike and he was originally from Lebanon, and had only recently moved into the city, just like me. He was currently living with his elder sister and her husband, while studying for a University degree. So as to make some extra pocket money, he had decided to start teaching swimming. Unfortunately, he lived far away from the pool and so would not be able to come during the week days. We discussed more on my future payments; if I agreed to take a package of ten classes with him, then he would be happy to keep it at the same initial cost. He was confident that I would be a good independent swimmer by the tenth class and I was convinced. So we struck a deal for ten lessons, same pool, same time every weekend unless otherwise stated, and the money to be paid at the end of each class.  

Time went by, quickly for Mike as he wanted to continue swimming, but slowly for me as I felt exhausted. I was taking an Uber home and since my house was not far from a train station, I offered to give him a ride. He accepted my offer and I gave him fifteen more minutes to swim before we finally left the pool. We sat on a bench whilst waiting for the Uber driver who appeared to be lost, as the app showed him continuously taking wrong turns. During that time, Mike and I made small talk. We both discovered that we were single and waiting for the “right one and the right time”. He mentioned how he would like to get a place of his own rather than living with his sister, so as to have more privacy. I nodded my head in understanding; privacy was important if you could afford it. The Uber driver finally arrived and in a few minutes, we were in front of my apartment building. I described the way to the train station from my house to Mike and asked him to let me know if he had any problems finding it. Then, we said our goodbyes.

An hour later, after having what I considered to be a rewarding meal for all my swimming exercise, I texted Mike to find out if he got home okay. He said he did and thanked me for being kind enough to check up on him. “It was my pleasure”, I wrote, and “see you next weekend.” I was not expecting any response so I kept my phone aside and took a nap.

I woke up to a text message from Mike; he was complaining about his living situation with his sister. He said he really wanted to find a place urgently but could not afford one by himself at the moment. I suggested that he could find housemates to share with for a start, as that would make things cheaper and later on, he could find a private place when he had enough money.

“Or I could come and live with you”, he replied via text.

I laughed while responding “LOL”. I did not know that he also had some sense of humour; good for him.

“Is that a ‘Yes’?” He asked.

“What? No. I thought you were joking”. I replied, a bit confused.

“Why not? I thought you said you live alone.”

I was now even more confused and seriously hoped that he was just pulling my legs.

“Yeah, I live alone because I don’t want to live with anyone. Also, I don’t know you; we just met today”. I replied in hope that that would end the conversation but…

 “Well, it starts from one day to get to know each other.” He continued. “You seem like a nice girl so I would not mind getting to know you. You also said you are single or do you want to remain lonely? I would teach you swimming for free”

Now, I was beginning to get worried. I mean, this dude knew where I lived and even though he did not know my exact apartment number, what if he was turned out to be a stalker? In person, he did not seem to be a creep and he had been an excellent teacher. So I did not want to lose him as my instructor if I could help it. Therefore, I had to find a way to end this rubbish; I replied:

“I’m sorry if I gave you any wrong impression but as I told you earlier, I CANNOT live with you. So I hope we can end this conversation now and continue our swimming lessons in a nice but professional manner. Do you think you can manage that?” I asked.

“Okay.” That was all he typed.

Phew! I was relieved, even though I could not help but wonder why he would have thought I was interested in him. Had it been because I offered him a ride in my Uber, or the small talks we had had during and after swimming? I could not recall having any flirtatious body language during my stay with him. Maybe it was because I had told him that I was single and so he automatically assumed that it meant I was available to every single man? Or was it because I checked to see if he got home safe? This was something I always did with everyone, whether male or female. I shook my head; the dude was probably drunk, or having a bad day, and just trying his luck. Anyway, I would just have to wait until the next week to reassess the situation during our class and see if I would still be comfortable continuing lessons with him.

The next weekend approached so I texted Mike on Friday.

“Hi, are we still on for tomorrow at 10 am?”

“Who is this?” he responded.

I could not help laughing; this guy must be a petty fellow, I thought to myself. On a second thought, maybe he changed his phone. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and so I replied telling him who I was. His response was cold but funny; he was demanding double the price we had agreed on. There was no need for me to reply, I just blocked and deleted his number. Weirdo, I whispered to myself.

And that was how my swimming for the year came to an end. I had had enough experience for the year for me to go back searching online. I tried to contact some of the professional gym instructors but their schedules did not match mine. Soon enough, winter came by and even though I could have done indoor swimming lessons, the thought of going out even slightly wet in the cold was scary. I would sign up next summer (2019), I told myself but as I wrote earlier, that did not happen. I definitely hope to learn next year 2020 by God’s grace but until then, I cannot help but blame that man in the pool.

Wishing you a happy holiday season!! Don’t forget to leave a comment under the post, like and share the post, and follow me on Instagram (@ugochiukah) and twitter (@vivio_gogo) for updates. Look out for my new blog instragram page. Until next year, by God's grace, kisses. X

HAIR-NIVERSARY (PART 3): THE PHASES OF NEWAFRO (NEW-AFRO)

Hello hi,

I hope you enjoyed part 1 and 2 of this series. This is part 3 below. Enjoy :)

THE PHASES OF NEWAFRO

After my haircut and announcements, I went through various stages of change. First, I tried to adapt to my new routine which included quick showers, hair rubs and sometimes using a brush to give my short afro some curls. I was surprised that I did not missed my old hair as I thought I would. A part of me felt disloyal but I wondered if the feeling was real or whether I was just in denial. I sometimes wore hats, mostly to shield myself from the ever blazing sun but sometimes to add some spice to my look. Making up had never been my calling but every now and then, I made an effort to wear bright lipsticks and wore large earrings and accessories. Although I had not made any plans prior to my hair chop, I hoped to carry my hair the way it was for a minimum of three months before deciding on what next to do. Things were going smoothly and three months went by quickly. I was travelling around Europe when the third month came. By then, my hair had added more volume and needed a change – either a new hair cut or hairstyle to keep it looking tidy. I was sure I was going to cut it again but shortly after I returned home, it began to snow. Everyone warned me not to cut it, your brain would literally freeze, they told me. I believed them as I could already feel the cold air hanging around my head like a halo. So what was I to do? I did not know how to manage hair in general, not to talk about managing a short afro hair. Alas, God heard my prayers and sent me favours through several friends and most conveniently, someone living nearby.

She was a fellow African from a francophone country and even though she was not a hair dresser, she was eager to learn how to make hair. Of course, I was just as eager to let her practice on my hair and that was how our friendship evolved. I came by every other Sunday morning for her to play with my hair; she spoke English while I tried to speak French as she tried different hairstyles – bantu knots, cornrows, twists etc. It was a symbiotic relationship, maybe a little more commensalism since I benefited more from it; but at least it was not parasitic. Each time I returned for another hairdo, she expressed surprise at the rapid growth of my hair. “Wow, it ‘az really grown; so beautiful, so lucky”, she would way with a French accent. I wondered whether she would still consider my hair as beautiful and lucky in a few months, when it would begin to show its true colour.

“You better warn her; you know your hair can cut through a glass” some close friends of mine and my sister suggested. They wanted me to let my new francophone friend know that my hair was neither soft nor gentle; even though it looked deceptively dark and lovely.

“Why should I warn her? She would see it for herself.” I said. “Besides, what if my new hair grew out to be all nice and easy to touch?”

“How is that even possible?”  My sister argued, “As long as the hair is growing from the same scalp, it would grow the same way, unless you change your genes.”

I ignored her; only time would tell how my hair would grow.

And yes, time did tell – as much as I could recall, my hair grew exactly the same way as it had almost 20 years ago, that is the last time I had it short! It sprung like a rain forest, like trees with long spreading branches looking for space such that some fell over my ears. With each centimetre of growth came thicker curls, and with each curl came more tangle. Of course my new friend noticed it– “Ah, your ‘airs are growing up and they are growing wide too”, she exclaimed one day. I laughed and asked her if she still liked the texture, to which she affirmed. Then, I told her stories of my previous hair struggles – how people used to avoid helping me out because my hair was a lot, and how hairdressers used to try to charge me more money when they saw my hair. We both laughed.

Winter finally came to an end and it was time to reconsider cutting the hair. However, it had blossomed into a mid-sized afro and everyone thought it was a good idea to keep it growing, including my new friend. As long as she did not mind helping me out, I did not mind keeping it, I told her. And that was how my hair came to stay, for now at least. After some time, my new friend did not have as much time for my hair. Sometimes I wondered if she was avoiding my hair but I still managed somehow, mostly soliciting help from other friends. I did not want her to feel that I was taking too much advantage of her. I had tried hard to style my hair by myself but I found it challenging, my arms hurt badly whenever I tried and it was never neat. #Teamnatural was not easy and then slowly, I started to miss my old hair a bit. I thought of back then, when it was well relaxed and I could manage to make cornrows by myself without having to ask anyone. Then I realised that I was going through a new phase.

Yes, I had gone through several stages – from feeling unsure of whether to cut my hair, to feeling fly with my short hair, then feeling bored of it, then feeling excited at the rapid hair growth and now sometimes feeling confused. However, through all of these I tried not to complain. After all, I still had HAIR, one that many would kill to have!

Thank you for reading and have yourself a merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.

Don’t forget to leave a comment under the post, like and share the post and follow me on Instagram (@ugochiukah) and twitter (@vivio_gogo) for updates. As I said in my previous post, I will be creating a new Instagram page for my blog for year 2020 by God’s grace and I hope be more consistent. Thanks again and remain blessed. x.

HAIR-NIVERSARY (PART 2): THE ANNOUCEMENT

Hello hi,

I can't believe the year is almost over; too many things have happened and yet I feel like nothing has happened, ha ha! I know it looks like I'm not serious about blogging or writing stories anymore but guess what, I am actually planning to open a new Instagram page for my blog for next year so that I can upload more stories much more frequently. Trust me this time, I hope you will continue to follow and read :)

So to make up for my absence, I have written 2 blog posts - Christmas bonus, yay! The first one is below and the next one is here. f you have not, don't forget to check out my previous post here too as these three make up the series so far. Enjoy and please leave your comments below.

 THE ANNOUCEMENT

Officially a year and 6 months have passed since I chopped of my hair, almost spontaneously (see previous post, part 1 here). I think back to the very day it happened; after the barber had finished his work, I had looked at my face in the large mirror, moving my head from side to side. I didn’t look bad, I thought to myself. The moment I got back home, I rushed into the bathroom to take a shower. Summer had just begun and the temperatures were as high as 35 degrees Celsius. I had been sweating and feeling dehydrated ever since I moved into the new city, so a lukewarm shower was much appreciated. For the first time in many years, I could feel the drops of water on my scalp within seconds of running the shower. Every drop on my head running down easily to my hooked nose, every touch of air filling up my scalp pores; it was worth it! I dried my hair quickly with a towel, just the way I used to see men do it. Like every millennial, the first thing I did was take a selfie, striking different poses to get different views of my head shape. My head did not appear big, I did not have an ogoo (no big bump sticking out of my skull), there were no bald spots, and I did not look like a boy; thus I was pleased with what I saw.

The next step was to break the news; starting with my family and friends. So I sent a couple of pictures to my mother first and then my younger sister. I knew it would not be my mother’s preferred look but I hoped that she would not dislike it. She responded on WhatsApp in her usual manner: “You’re looking fine”, while my sister said I was brave. Those were good enough for me. Next I called some of my friends one by one on video-chat, all their expressions were similar – from looks of shock, to squinting, to smiling, and then saying that I looked good. My new colleagues were next in line. I went into the office the next day and greeted the secretary at the reception, whom I had met a few times the week before. She responded:

“Hi, how can I help you?”

“It’s me, Vivian.”

“Vivian! What happened to your hair?!”

I burst out laughing; for sure I had expected some surprise but not a complete lack of recognition. From there, the news spread around, colleagues expressed interest in my hair and my new supervisor was able to recognise me with less difficulty than in the past. I say this because before I started working with him, I had met him a few times before at conferences and each time I had to re-introduce myself to him. It was until one day I realised that the issue was my continuous change of hairstyles, so I gave him a great tip “Never try to recognise a black woman by her hair.”  This time around, I think it worked; he had a little smirk on his face when he saw my new haircut and said “Hi Vivian”.

Finally, I put up my photo on social media and then the whole world knew I had cut my hair. Contrasting comments were written under my post, some expressing pleasure, others displeasure, but for me, I felt relieved. The shock was over, my job was done.

Continue here for part 3.

Thank you for reading. Feel free to share with others and follow me on instagram @ugochiukah and twitter @vivio_gogo for more updates.

Cheers. X

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…

Thank you for reading. Feel free to share with others and follow me on instagram @ugochiukah and twitter @vivio_gogo for more updates.

Cheers. X