In this generation of ours, some people are often too quick to jump on various band wagons without considering the pros and cons of which band wagon actually suits them. In this hair game of ours, a lot of ladies have been misled by the seemingly good looks of natural hair, only for them to go natural and not be able to maintain the hair.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying natural hair is bad, neither am I saying it's good. I merely believe each person should do what suits them.
My dear friend and sister from another mother, the brain behind www.funmigaji.blogspot.nl has written a very captivating work on #teamnatural #teamrelaxer #teamobserver and she gave me her consent to publish it on my blog for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!
" #teamnatural #teamrelaxer #teamobserver
There is one big madam I want to talk about today. We spend most of our time making sure she is beautiful. Sometimes, she is grateful, sometimes she is not grateful and will go ahead and do her own. Who hasn't had a bad a day when bob refuses to bob, sleek refuses to be sleeky? Days when your hair makes you realise she has a mind of its own... Task-master proper. When she is happy, you are happy, When she is not happy, well, you are lucky if there is a wig nearby. As if that wasn't headache enough, now I have to make up my mind between #teamnatural or #teamrelaxer. Let's look into this hairffair.
Hair is a trending topic in 2016.
My hair, richly black hair. Kinky, strong. We go way back. My earliest memories of my hair are of me seated between the legs of Aunty Moji. I had very thick, very full, very black hair. My hair was stubborn. If the big black comb went in, it could go in and pull me up. The comb and my hair might not have been ready to part ways, but I could tell that my scalp was getting tired of having anything to do with the two stubborn lot. Some days, it felt like my soft innocent scalp, caught between the two stubborn one could not bear it a moment longer.
It wasn’t long before I discovered that my hair was a capital issue. The hairdressers dreaded digging their hands into the thick, black forest of my million coarse strands. When they made it, they kept muttering and complaining. If it were straight, it would reach to my neck. I did not enjoy the trips to the hairdressers either.
Then someone got the bright idea of relaxing my hair. The hairdressers liked my hair better. Before the end of the quarter, I had lost all the hair at the back of my hair and become an iya eko proper. It was clear I had to cut it all off and start again. But, no, I did not give up. My hair taught me my first lesson in determination. I went back to making my hair again.
Following that, I went through the horrors of having my hair partitioned, pulled and imprisoned in twine. It hurt but I did not want to cut my hair. We eagerly nursed it for the next encounter with relaxer and how it would blow out. My hair is a warrior, you see, since then, it has survived sleepless nights of being entwined in threads, braids, heat that made me wonder how come my brain never got baked. I became bald on the back of my head and learnt not to rest too much on the back of my head. I learnt to run away from rain.
Then, after enduring relaxer burns here and there while having no relaxed hair to show for it, I was advised to tow the path of no-lye relaxer. My story changed. :d
My hair and I were in a good place or so I thought when Adichie’s Americanah came along. Americanah, a book someone has said is 5% about hair. Ifemelu could not handle relaxer and my friends and I concluded, beht Adichie can exaggerate jor. Relaxers aren’t that bad now. How can she talk about a character’s hair getting that destroyed over common relaxer? With all the no-lye relaxers out these days...
I should have knocked on wood. That same month, I suffered a hairccident (don’t worry, I won’t coin another after this). It was a ghastly accident. I tried a new salon o and that was how my sweet no-lye relaxer became fire and brimstone in five minutes. I washed it off and spent the next few weeks hiding under wig (they said I looked beautiful with it, if only they knew what it concealed). It became a matter that warranted medical intervention and calls from friends and family: eh ya, sorry, dear.
But no, I did not cut my hair. My mom begged me not to. I did not really want to in my heart too. It was a “Hold me, I will commit suicide” affair. I relaxed again. Using that same pack. Same product but different salon. I relaxed again and again and again...
All is well again...
Or is it?
All of a sudden, I see #teamnatural hair. This hair is fine o. So natural hair can be soft like this. I booked appointment with my barber. I pinged girlfriend who was natural and pulled it off really great. She had gone back to relaxer. Hard to maintain. No time. Over the couple of days, I see many relaxed to natural, natural to relaxed. I have made the move to and fro a hundred times in the past couple of weeks. All in my mind. I started to wonder, this #team natural of a thing, is it for real? Do these naturals get tired of it and just ‘form’ because, well, you can’t just go back especially if you were the nazi kind ofnaturalista? Do you get tired of all the products you have to buy and keep up with? All I just mean to ask is: whatever side of the fence your hair belongs to, what do you think of “going natural”?
As for me, Lupita might be my next turning. Or dreads. Or the Amber Rose lane. I really do not know yet. I belong to #teamobserver. While I observe, I will go natural in my mind today and remain relaxed in my mind tomorrow. I will even transition briefly and maybe get loced. What is your hair up to?
P:S You wonder, all this long talk on top hair? Hair is a serious issue. Ask little dude who had his hairccident this week and sent me the message: “I am dead”. Men, sleep and wake up to find a prankster has shaved off all your brows. Women, wash your hair and discover your shampoo isn’t actually shampoo but shaving cream and something... and the prankster smiles and says: Just Kidding."
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