Diary of an Honest Naturalista: Week 21

Some of my colleagues are organising a very small send off party for me this week. They think I don't know, but I definitely do. I don't think they have ever done this for anyone that was not a permanent staff, so I believe I made a little impact in the very short period I worked here. Even if I haven't made any impact, my encounters with Thomas are enough impact to be etched in their memories, lol.

Anyway, so last Saturday, I took the lazy way out of my Deep Conditioning method, and it backfired. I wanted to pamper my hair, but I did not really have time to sit around the house, and wait for my hair to 'cook up.' I made a mix of honey, mayonnaise, Shea butter, and olive oil, and applied the mix all over my hair, ensuring that every single strand of my hair was coated. I then covered my hair with a plastic cap, and finally, tied a turban.

This was the way I was when I went to church for my monthly departmental meeting, thanks to comments on many hair blogs where other naturalistas said they always went out while DCing, in order to kill time, and got home later in the day to wash their hair.

I spotted a look of triumph when the madam in this diary entry looked at my head, and realised there was not going to be any toy, in the name of my hair, for her to play with that day. It was the first time she was seeing me without my hair out, ever since I joined that department, but my elation soon turned to an interesting drama.

About 30 minutes later, I felt something snaking down the back of my neck. I was not feeling hot, so I doubted it was sweat. Besides, why would sweat be trickling down my neck and not my temples? Also, the Air Conditioning system was on full blast, so I wasn't feeling hot.

I touched my neck, and felt something sticky. "Haa, the DC mix is dripping." I thought to myself, so I brought out a small piece of tissue paper to clean it off. Little did I know that it was just the beginning. As if in protest, the mix just started running down every side of my neck, like water that had just been released from a dam. I was cleaning every part of my neck like every nano second.

I just couldn't allow my church members see  honey and oil all over me. The madam looked at me, and must have wondered what was biting me, that I was wiping my neck in the meeting. Another man asked me if I was alright, and why I was agitated. Maybe he thought I stole money, since the topic of discussion at that point in time was the department's treasury. The whole thing was really embarrassing.

At a point, I even ran out of tissue to wipe my DC mix, and had to go to the rest room to get more. In the end, I ended up wrapping almost the whole of my neck with tissue when I couldn't control the frequency of wiping anymore. I just couldn't be bothered about the weird looks coming my was again. I'm sure the whole mixture on my head must have dripped down my neck, and the smell of honey must have wafted through the room.

To say that by the end of the meeting, my mood was sour, was an understatement. What hasn't my eye seen in this natural hair journey? I am just tired. Maybe I will just go on gorimapa.

*Gorimapa is a Yoruba lingo for completely shaven head.