HairStory

Hello people, remember that I told you about my guest slot on O'Naturals, where once a month, I contribute a story or poem to their site. Well in case, you couldn't get to their page. Here again is the story in its full form. I hope you enjoy and I hope to be able to sort out my insurance and buy a comp soon.

By the Way- Fibromyalgia is a terror but I refuse to be beaten. I will overcome. I fell down in two places this last week and one was in public- my local bank¬ no need to say, it will be in a while before I go back there. Well keep me in your prayers and I'll be telling you more and putting more poetry up. God bless


HAIRSTORY

Time had passed and I knew I wasn’t as easy to recognise but as soon as he saw me, Deji knew it was me. The first thing he did, after spinning me around, was reach for my hair. 'You changed it!' he exclaimed, half accusingly and half incredulously. He knew how much I cared for my hair in the past and how much money he had personally paid for its upkeep. I smiled and shrugged. My hair tossed a bit in the breeze. 'Well, I like it much better this way’ I replied. We talked some more, exchanged numbers and I left in a cab, leaving him standing, waving at me.


Deji and I dated while I was at university. He was a year ahead of me and from the first day he set eyes on me, he wouldn't let me be. He told me he was certain that I was an angel sent to him from ‘Jah’ above. At first, he was frustrating but I soon started laughing at his words and that’s how we ended up spending the day together. Before he left he asked me if I would go out with him and I asked him how he knew I was ‘his angel’. He said that when I walked in and light shone on my head, he just knew.


I didn’t know whether to laugh or choke! I told him that I had just had my hair done with a 100% human hair weave and it was most likely the gloss from the oil that caught the light. He shook his head and said it didn’t matter, I was still his angel and with that he left. From then on, he visited me frequently, took me out for lunches, ate in my room when I cooked and helped me with some of my assignments. And so we just sort of fell into being a couple.


On one occasion, I had just put in an 18 inch Brazilian hair weave when Deji came over. Although my head felt tight, I looked so good. Deji fell in love with it and could not stop stroking my hair. It would have been a romantic time together if he hadn't caught his fingers in my hair, while he was stroking it, and that hurt terribly. He tried to turn around and sat on some of my weave while I was trying to move and the pain actually brought tears to my eyes! It was disastrous. This was to be the script for the majority of our intimate moments. My hairstyles seemed to be causing us hassles and soon enough we started arguing. I got very angry and kicked him out of my room when he suggested me having less extended tresses. Deji tried to get back with me, to be fair, and I did try to make it work but my hair got in the way.


We broke up, Deji graduated and I never heard from him again. I finished school, traveled to the US for my Masters, my hair went natural and I finally got dredlocs. I had been living in the States for five years when I bumped into Deji again. My phone rang as I got out of the cab. It was Deji. He said it was wonderful to see me again and that I looked amazing with my hair. I smiled to myself and said it was good to see him too. He asked if we could meet up for lunch, we fixed a date and he hung up.


From one lunch date to several other lunch dates and then dinner dates. We realized we were still single and Deji asked me to be his girlfriend. We laughed so much and found a new rhythm with each other. Deji said it was like he was with a different woman and it made him happy.


I look into the mirror to check my reflection one last time. Deji’ is standing behind me and he bends to sink his nose and hands into my hair. I don’t flinch or wave him away. I lean back and remind him we’ll be late for the reception. He smiles at me through the mirror and says the guests can wait; after all we are the bride and groom.

Edited by Omozo Ehigie

My Guest Slot Starts Now

Remember I told you about my guest slot on O'Naturals. Well here's my opening entry. I hope you enjoy it. Sorry about my late posting. I hope I can solve this posting wahala soon. Much love

Work in Progress- Extract from 'Up from the Melon Road'

I've been writing this semi -autobiographical book for years now. Still looking for a publisher. Also been very ill, computer's gone kaput now and I'm in the library. I'd love to hear what you've got to say on this and others to come. God bless




Sunlight streaked in; I’m lying flat on my back, just as I had for the past two weeks. I breathe in deep and feel my shoulder blades contract with the unfamiliar action; I’ve been breathing lightly for so long, it felt unnatural to breathe in deeply, I feel twinges, but it feels so good. I do it again and breathe in real deep.


I rise up slowly throwing the covers from my body gently and I put my feet down on the lukewarm rug, I feel a bit dizzy but its okay. Unbuttoning my pajamas shirt slowly, and standing up I know it’s time. I have avoided facing this demon for so long but now I was ready to embrace it because I knew it was good for me. At last, I see the way to be free. I had prepared for it the night before, getting the long mirror reinstalled into my bedroom, so moving for the first time in two weeks, I was ready to see.

I walk to the mirror, looking into my own eyes, I dread to look elsewhere but I’m also excited. Slowly I raise up my hands and place them gently on them, barely touching and then I palm them; they are so soft and feel strange, so reduced, I circle them, then move up to the nibs and slowly pass my thumbs over them, I think my back groans.

I think I feel pain, but I’m not sure. I feel light all over for the first time, then I look down at them in the mirror and away and at them in the mirror and away and at them for real, they are perfect, round and they are small. The water surges behind my eyes but I blink them away fast, but the waves of a thirty-year pain are hard to dam (ignore). Slowly, then rapidly my tears fall on my naked body and I’m standing in front of a mirror ad I’m raining tears, but I’m not sad, I am very happy, very exhilarated, very, very light.