The above picture was taken years ago while Arusha at yet another crossroad of my life. I was at the Ethiopian Airlines ticket office to get a ticket back home after my one year stint at the ICTR there.
The above anecdote introduces my love hate affair with hair and its relationship with my inner being. It could be hair, it could be something else, but what I wish to say by this post is that whatever it is that triggers us, we got to and can do something.
I remember as kid being put down twice a week to braid my hair. You see, I had lots even as a baby. The problem was that it was so bushy and hard to manage and yet my mum and cousin thought it was girly to keep it neat and braided. It was done twice because what she did on Sunday, was already ruined by Wednesday and what she did on Wednesday, looked like the amazon forest on Saturday. My escapes or luck came whenever I was able to sneak and follow my father to the barber on Saturday afternoon.
My hair among my triggers
My hair has since then been one of those features of mine which can make me smile or get mad. When I can manage to groom and braid the hair, because, yeah it takes some good time and money to do, I am not unhappy at the end product. I have so much you know but it’s a big job taking care of it. However, whenever I am at crossroads in my life or am turning an important page of life, I start to feel nervous about that same hair.
That is how I started shaving the hair at such strategic moments. I remember at the university on my 21st birthday, and boy, how my friends almost shunned me out completely.
Well, I am happy to feel the water flow through my head especially after sports like in this picture below.
It hasn’t always been easy
My mother didn’t always understand what was behind this hair stuff. She even at some point thought I was real nuts or into some ‘sect’ especially when as a married woman I dared to shave my hair. My ex husband to say the least, was out-rightly disgusted and felt disrespected. You know back home, men like feeling they are the ‘boss’ of their wives. You need to keep that damn hair on for him. He wouldn’t mind giving you the money to go fix it – well not the time to sit down there though!
And so I did this again
I went through tough times of depression and outright shaggyness recently. I thereafter took a VIP decision in my life after a retreat largely thanks to the hospitality of my good friend Monica. It so happened I had some braids on my head which had taken a whole six hours to weave and now took four hours to take off. I just realized it was time once more to shave the hair off!
Dear gentle readers and followers, I think what matters is not all those outward appearance, but what we truly are and feel within us right?