Hello earthlings and welcome to the blog!
In the spirit of not wasting any time, shall we jump into it?
My name is *it does not matter* and I am not a hardworking natural hair person. I am definitely not a guru or an inspiring dedicated girl on a journey to waist-length hair and a mane like Simba’s. Before you brush me off, pun intended, please hair* me out.
As earlier stated, I have natural hair. I should probably mention that I have had natural hair all my life. What that means is that I have never had ‘chemical’ which is Nairobi-speak for I have never relaxed my hair, EVER. Okay. I should probably start from the beginning…..
Growing up with brothers only, I never quite caught on to the fuss about hair. When I was young I have vague memories of hot combs (those ‘vichanas’ that our mothers put on the stove or ‘jiko’ and used to straighten our hair). I know post 90’s babies might not be able to relate to that. I also have memories of my mom plating my hair into cornrows while I was asleep. I barely remember how my hair looked because I did not care. At about 7 years, I remember being introduced to the salon where they would braid my hair once in a blue moon. Fast forward to 9 years and my mom finally let me blowdry my hair at the salon. By 10, I had learnt to ‘shuka’ grass in our primary school field and the one back at home. People who went through the public system know that this was not an artistic thing but a cheeky one. Guys plaited the grass so others would trip and fall (But not me). After this, I remember wondering why I needed to spend a day at the salon, using my mother’s money to pay someone to touch my head (which I hated). I could probably do it myself. After all, ‘si kushuka lines kwa kichwa ni kama kushuka lines kwa nyasi?’ So ended my salon visits. Well, except for braiding days which were rare. This lasted until high school where we were not allowed to have plaited hair *rolls eyes*. So I always had my hair in a ponytail all through high school. It’s not like I was trying to impress anyone in boarding school anyway. I honestly cannot count the number of times I shaved my hair…..because they were many. However, I do remember that I last shaved when I was 13. I don’t even know whether that is relevant, except that every time people ask me, “How long have you been natural?” I tell them all my life but remember hours later that people count your years of being natural based on your ‘big chop’ which technically I have but have never had. (What?) Anyway, I digress. That is my not-so-brief ‘natural-from-birth’ story.
You know the thing about having natural hair, now that it is a movement, is that it can be exciting, annoying and exhausting at the same time. Some days seem perfect! Others, I honestly have no words for. That is one of the main reasons why I decided to start the blog. Few people document the bad days where you genuinely want to shave the hair off your head. It seems that most planning to go natural have this romanticized idea of perfect twist-outs and bomb wash-and-go’s. Eeerrrrmmm…… it’s not always rosy. Then again, I’m not here to scare anyone from trying. I guess what I am trying to do is share all the days, whether they are good or not, in words and hopefully, sometimes, if I can become consistent about it, perhaps share some photos from time to time.
I don’t even know how this post got this long, honestly. I just hope that I can be more consistent with this more than I am with these regimens. Hahaha! This my life!……
So, without further ado, welcome to the confessions of a Nairobi Naturalista. Join the mailing list and hopefully, we can share in the struggle.
*I couldn’t resist