Dee retires

I was so shocked to meet my friend Wanjiku the other day. Believe it or not, she had cut her hair. I don’t mean trimming, I mean chopping. The kind that leaves only a quarter inch of hair on your head. And so I blurted out, “What happened to you?” She answers “I was stressed, so stressed that if I had kept my hair for one more day I would have died”. She goes on to tell me how the hair was so heavy, made her head so hot and did not allow her to think straight.” The avalanche of details on how she walked into a kinyozi and had her lovely mane cut off starts, fifteen minutes later we are laughing about the event“hair chopping”.

I remembered a few months ago, JG & I advising one of our friends who had gone though a “hair chopping ritual” that when a woman cuts her hair she is either going through something or someone. Well before you start judging Wanjiku, let me give you a brief history of her life. Wanjiku is a middle aged lady, happily married with two grown up children studying in the University. Wanjiku and her husband run successful businesses and by all means could be what you call successful. And no their marriage or businesses are not on the rocks and neither are their girls doing drugs.

When I went home that day, I remembered my own hair journey three years ago. I had toyed with the idea of dreadlocks for a year but I just couldn’t decide. There were too many things to consider; career, society, my daughter’s teachers’, my mummy e.t.c. One fine day, I visited Dee, the dreadlocks master. I sat coyly; I still wasn’t sure what I wanted. I kept on shifting goal posts. Do I grow this things or do I cut of my mane and maintain short hair? 

Dee has seen many people like me. I sat in his red seat and he gave me his maiden lecture –Dreadlocks 101. He made it clear- Dreadlocks growing is a discipline and an art. To come up with good results one has to be dedicated, patient and give time, time. And he would say in his quiet voice at the end of it, unfortunately when your hair finally locks you don’t have a choice of unlocking it and you also have to say good bye to braiding, weaving and changing hairstyles every two weeks. He let’s you think about it for about 10 minutes, repeats the information again to ensure that you understand fully what he is talking about and the implications of your choices.

Like my friend Wanjiku was to tell me three and a half years later. “I was stressed, so stressed that if I had kept my hair for one more day I would have died”. She goes on to tell me how the hair was so heavy, made her head so hot and did not allow her to think straight.”I was truly identifying with her. This was aggravated by the fact that I was also going through something and it had to go. Either that or I would burn it down literally. I had decided enough was enough, I asked Dee to bring out his scissors, if the price to pay was patience; I was going to pay. I was going to grow dreadlocks!

Now, when Dee told me about patience he lied because I thought he was talking about 3 months and then my dreadlocks would be neat and shoulder length. Shock on me. The first year was a total mess; I kept feeling like I would throw in the towel. The journey was tough and my hair looked unkempt the whole year! Even after a fresh do I would meet someone and they would ask, when are you visiting the saloon? Dee kept chopping and chopping my hair, okay they call it trimming split ends. Every time I looked at my reflection in the mirror I considered buying a wig, but I had sworn never to adorn one. I was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Year two was not too bad. The hair started taking shape and the idea of dreadlocks was starting to sink into my family, friends and professional colleagues’ minds. They were starting to accept this was me. The hair was locking and we were getting somewhere. My mother had accepted my hair, in fact she thought my hair was much tidier than it had been for years. 

By the third year it was business as usual. I was asked to give Dee’s number to several friends and total strangers so as to have dreadlocks that looked like mine. A lady once wrote me a note in a matatu asking for the saloon and the telephone number of the person who made my hair. I wrote it gladly and passed it on to her. I smiled, after a long period of bad hair days here were complete strangers appreciating what had come of it.

Sometimes this friends and strangers visit Dee, with his quiet voice and expressionless face he goes through lesson Dreadlocks 101. Some get discouraged and do not even bother to put them at all, others give up after the first year but those who cross the second year almost always keep them. But Dee always makes sure that he advises them accordingly. His last sentence always was, no one’s hair grows like anybody else’s. Hair colour never ever turns out like the one on the hair colour packages. And admirable hair colour on another’s head never quiet turns out the same on your head. And his mantra is patience, nothing comes easy.

And as my dear friend Dee retires (retired now-post June) from hair making to consultancy and further his enterprises, I say a big thank you to him. I salute him for being patient especially with those of us who are impatient and expect instant results.  He has a thing of teaching dedication, patience and running one of the most professional hair parlors I have visited in my life.  He loved his job passionately. 

Go well into your new endeavors and God bless you for teaching us hair (and life’s lessons).

Sojourner.