Evidently, there is no way I am going to lie to myself that I am not interested. This can be a life-transforming decision. What is at stake is a legacy, a name, a reputation. But it is a reputation built on shaky ground because SHE has tested it and moved the pillars. I will see what I can do. I have no problem with it. That is why I like her. We are just natural likers if you could see us.
It all started as a joke, but it blossomed and we realised that we have to upgrade. For all the while I managed to keep it in wraps. Only Feso knew about it. Feso is another character for another day, for now, I have to find ways of telling mum and sekuru about her. My mom knows her, she saw her on my WhatsApp Status the other day. Also, she is full in my gallery. I know that she knows but for the sake of it, I have to officially tell her.
The only light of fear I have is her dislike. Not that Flower is not beautiful but she is different. Well, you will have to understand this. It might seem a small issue to you but let me tell you a story of my upbringing…
It all started way back in Sunday school. As far I could remember, it was golden: a woman’s hair should always be natural. Well to my little mind that was not a problem. If you have natural hair, you are a Christian. I swear I could walk down in town and greet a random woman with natural hair and; in most cases, she would turn out to be a sister.
That was a simple naive world. Growing up in a township surrounded by farms, Harare was a dream trip. So it became part of me, a sister has natural hair.
As days went by I realised that there was an increase in women with natural hair. A lot of them. Some had their not as natural but it was theirs. I understood the terms perm and rollers and all. That still did not disturb me a lot. They had their hair.
However this day a visiting minister came and lambasted perm. It was of the devil. Jezebel tired her hair to seduce Jehu, but she was overthrown! Those with perm were Jezebels and had a spirit of prostitution! That was too much for me. My mom and her sisters had applied perm at one time. One of my mom’s sisters once ran a successful saloon, going around farms “setting” women, styling them with new hairstyles. But according to the preacher, she was sending people to hell by imparting the spirit of prostitution on them, through the hairstyles.
I had questions but I did not know who to ask or even how to ask them. I resorted to the saying “let it not be shaven”. At least mom and her sisters did not shave theirs. After all, a woman should not shave her head according to scripture. That was to change when my little sister was born. They shaved her womb hair so that she grows her natural hair.
Well, this other day another woman from church who had just had a baby girl came over. Her child’s head was full of curly hair. Upon seeing my little sister shaven hair, she quickly reprimanded my mother. You should not cut a woman’s hair! That’s a Nazarite vow! What? I watched in hopelessness as my mother was racked over the coals and braided on how she let a razor touch the head of a woman! Yes, a woman who is 4months old. That was a lesson. It is important for a woman to keep her hair and not shave. Also, the unshaven hair must never be permed, just be natural. Do not look like the world. That was simple, I see no fuss.
A number of Xmas went by and one day the pastor came fuming. The world is creeping in the church. People are bringing carpets and carrots to church. I was surprised since the room we used for services had no carpet, also as a food enthusiast specialising in raiding other children’s meals I had not come across carrots that were worthy of such aberration.
This time I wanted to ask, and mom was to answer. She was frank as she informed my sorry look. “Carrot” was hair. Not actually hair but a hairstyle done with/without dreads then plaited. Well, it did not involve cutting but it involved foreign dreads. That is no longer natural. There is compromise. I was not ready to know. After a couple services, the preacher came back. He exercised his discretion as the leader to allow girls in high school to carrot and carpet their hair during school terms but on holidays it should be natural. Fair enough.
As I grew up, I realised that I could no longer identify women as from church by their hair. I had to move from head to waist down. If a skirt is on the knee and above, or trouser definitely no. Skirts should be at least below the knees. Confusion would however arise when I saw someone with natural hair, a below-knee skirt but blue or red nails. Or maybe no nails but a simple stud on the ear. Briefly, my childhood identification game became highly compromised. I had to find answers so I consulted the books.
Now the books were rich in content. Let’s look as natural as we can and do not look like the world. That is what I also heard from the shittim. So natural it is. But what was gonna happen to all these other people I had started to see who have lots of carrots and carpets and new variations of shiny hairs. I sought to understand. The books gave me answers. I saw the various answers. Something like, you can do what you want as long as you do not cut it. But how could the book say and encourage kinda different routes? Well simple.
In my “16year old thorough research” i concluded: The lenient answers were given after people failed to accept the hard answers. Typically the morning answer would be somewhat hard but the afternoon/evening answers were kinda lenient. I had to take sides and a stand, and that was obvious. All my life I liked natural hair. The artificial natural guys were in the permissive will. Simple. It’s there for all to see.
What became tricky is nobody wanted to question the author of the recipe book. That was the general consensus. Disagree on which recipe is best for pancakes but do not ask the author why gave various options.
TapMak 2017
As time passed and transitions were made the artificial natural became more than the natural natural. Then there was the new artificial over natural phenomena. That was a bomb. These were real non-starters how could they not see it’s against the perfect will. Slowly fellowship became openly demarcated. My childhood identification job had lost its meaning. I had to find another position. A better position that would not send the other person to hell because of hair. The books could not give me a strong position that did not condemn the other person. As always trees were falling where they were leaning. I started hearing about rag-rug-rat. I was shaken for everyone had a page from the books which they had taken their recipe.
What became tricky is nobody wanted to question the author of the recipe book. That was the general consensus. Disagree on which recipe is best for pancakes but do not ask the author why gave various options. Which one was best? I then decided to accept that each individual family cooks what they enjoy as long as they take from the recipe book. Yet within me I still believed that my or our recipe was the original and best one.
This was all to change when I met HER!
YoungPower 