I Am Not My Hair

Have you ever felt like different people attach your identity to different things?

I definitely have at one point or the other. The result was that I ended up feeling disjointed – like I wasn’t one person and everyone knew a version of me. The same happened when I was blogging on two different domains. That changed when we moved here and I explained that in this post. Now that (big news) I’ve started a YouTube channel, I felt that I also needed to explain that my posts would be diverse. That’s why I wrote this for my introduction video. If you would like to watch it as well, I’ll include the link at the end of this post.

I Am Not My Hair

It makes sense that my strands wouldn’t know how to unwind

Because I’ve never used a relaxer/

They used to get straight to the point

Repeated use of heat on weekdays damaged the building blocks, the joints/

And left me weak ends

That were boring even on weekends – /

No curls, waves or springy coils

Just a sad ponytail hanging by a thread /

Content that it could never get ahead – /

Never long enough or loud enough so even the volume was just a whisper on my head /

Stylists convinced me my hair was silky soft sleeked down with hair grease in tight hair ties/

Their sleek lies licked away the truth and had me thinking that I would never have a fro. I/

Gave power to the one whose work was to mint money from me before moving onto the next one/

And now that I know a bit better I’m hoping to pass it onto the next two or three/

Be-four we can high-five knowing that even our six-/

Year olds know that what grows from their heads is seven -/

Perfection and not in need of a chemical fix. /

But before we move on, just for the record/

I’d like to throw a spanner in the works and pull the rip cord/

As I cordially say that – /

I am not my hair. /

The kinky, curly, coily strands that weave out of my scalp/

Are just shafts that I can wave away and easily put a scalp-el to/

Though nikinyoa wanaweza sema siko kamili,

Juu akili ni nywele na zangu niliwachia kinyozi?/

I am not my hair. /

I’m not twisted or caught up in complicated entanglements/

Though I have my fair share of dread-full thoughts

Juu nikishuka rasta me huskia ku-weed out vices kama single strand knots. /

I am not my hair. /

I’m rough around the edges

So I don’t pretend to gel with edge control that tries to pull me back in when I live life a bit on the edge/

Lakini najua asiyeskia la mkuu huvunjika guu so I respect my elders to the ends

Of the earth and I trim off everything they say is stunting my growth. /

I am not my hair but I’m definitely an heir/

I carry the air of a son, a daughter, a sister, a friend and a worker/

I am not my hair because it’s not my only crown/

And even Marangi knows that –

The Dura-ble coat and crown I chase after is more than a pretty painted picture/

More than a lovely gesture and more glorious than a tiara. /

I don’t Russell with my Future because I Ci-a-

-ra – gs to riches story when He took my mess and gave me His righteousness/

That’s why it doesn’t matter much when my strands shed because the lamb shed so the lamp shade would come off

And let the light (shine through)/

Every twist out, tutorial, trip, tip and trick shared through – this channel. /

If I am to be authentic I must draw from the Source like a river channel/

So that if you had to describe me in one word, the Mane Choice would be unashamed/

Because the Shea (sheer) moisture, the very juice that flows within me is not unnamed/

It’s the blood that’s the healing balm and Crème of Nature – /

That which encompasses every bit of my stature…

(and yes, even the hair)//

Here’s the video 🙂


0 thoughts on “I Am Not My Hair”

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *