Bad Hair Day

As a kid i loved the Tyson hairstyle, the parting on the side suited me just fine but then it didn’t have as much fitting on my head as it did on Ifeanyi’s head. You see, he had a more streamlined head so the cut was much cooler on him. Picture Dwayne in Different World. My head however, was the shape a very hard egg would take when dropped from a table top and simply refusing to crack, having craters and bulges in places. Picture Mr Tortoise in Storyland. Atleast this was how i pictured it. There were times i had to look at my reflection in the mirror from different angles to get the best pose. The one i’d use when my crush was in the area. She must view me from this angle otherwise get the wrong picture of me.

I grew into a teenager who didn’t care what state his hair’s in, the girls didn’t seem to notice it sef. I had to always be reminded and sometimes forced to go to the barber’s shop. When i had it done though, i came out looking extra awesome. Yeah.
“Ehen! see as you fine now!” was the usual reaction. But that didn’t deter me from being reluctant the next week – and the next.
I’ve carried this into my young adult life. i can walk around looking like i was lost at sea and won’t show any sign that i care. “i know i’m still fine” i find me saying to me.

So on this day, 3days ago, i decide to go get one. I wasn’t reluctant, just got tired of the hair coming too close to my forehead and eyes. My barber and good friend whose name i’ve never known welcomes me but not with his usual smiles and “ma najeran mahn!” that he often calls me by. He’s upset today. I act like i don’t notice and take my seat infront of the mirror. He preps his tools and wears me my apron, or whatever that cloth is called, without even a glance at my reflection. i’m like “low cut” as i hand him my card reader with the memory card full of my favourite Enya and Yanni tracks that i listen to during these times. He begins with so much force its almost like I offended him. He grunts an apology as i show my discomfort but he does it again two minutes later. i tried to limit my show of discomfort the other several times he did this lest he shaved off my eyebrows and lashes in anger. He could decide to shave off my nose hair and my nose itself if he wanted. In my eyes that clipper now looked like a murder weapon in his hands. Now the Enya song playing seemed more like the background track of a horror scene making the salon abit too sinister just as a shaft of light pierced into the place.
It was the scariest 22 minutes. I could see the scared look on my face even as i tried to look normal. Then he says to me just as he finishes “women got too many problems ma mehn”
I get it now, his girlfriend pissed him off. And i had to be the unfortunate next customer.
I went to the salon today hoping to look like Morris Chestnut, i came out looking more like Morris Coconut.

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