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H is for hair

I never cried or complained when my hair was braided or relaxed as a child. I knew a single word meant the difference between a shaved head and a hair covered one. My mother always told us, my little sister and I, that if we wanted to grow our hair, we should be willing to accept all the side effects. By side effects, she meant the pain of the burns from relaxers or the tugging and pulling when we were braided. Even at nine years old, I associated beauty- and hair- with pain.

Unfortunately, due to the education system in my home country- Rwanda- I had to cut off my hair in primary four, and I was never allowed to grow it out until I graduated high school in 2016. At that time, I decided to grow my hair naturally.

Despite the hype around the natural hair movement, It was not the main reason I kept my hair natural. I am a "lazy" person when it comes to hair, I considered caring for relaxed hair as "too much work". This sounds counter-intuitive, however, back then I never put much effort in my hair. I barely combed it, because even when I put in the effort my hair still looked unkempt. Instead hats became my best friends. On occasion, I sported the wash and go style, and tried to make it look as effortlessly messy as possible. Most of the times, I just had braids on.

When I came to the United States for college, I had long beautiful braids on. A few weeks after I arrived, I got reacquainted with an old friend- my mental ailment- and had to remove them. Suddenly, I was left with only one option, working on my natural hair. I realized hair was more than just hair. it is a narrative, a statement and a performance.

Every time I style my hair, it tells a story of the shrinkage, the tightly wound coils, and the curls that can never be tamed. After more than seven months, I have a number of tricks down my sleeve. I have learnt new terms and traveled the path of my natural hair journey. Today, I can affirm that my natural hair is one big aspect of my identity



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