Diary of an Honest Naturalista: Week 44

Continued from last edition.

“Yeeeee, Egba mi, cut kini (Save me, cut what)?” She suddenly screamed, forgetting that we were on a secret mission, and her voice was supposed to be low.

“Yes ma. That’s the only way o.”

“So how will I make my hair? How will I do my parking gel? How…?”

“You have to choose o. The only way is to cut the hair. It is either your parking gel or your edges.” I said, and started retreating, with a smirk plastered on my face.

Sensing that I had closed the case, she walked out of the restroom, looking dejected like her husband had just died, as I followed her behind.

Believe or not, last week, Madam Adams came looking very different. She had a weave on. I looked at her momentarily, internally shook my head, and continued my work, thinking she would never learn.

Sometime during the break period, we were the only ones left in the room, after everyone else had gone for lunch. She called me to look at her, and quickly removed what I had thought was a wig, and I saw a completely bald head. I wanted to laugh, but I respected myself.

“So she actually cut it.” I thought.

“You see, I have cut it o. Shebi that is all. I will soon be looking like you, with plenty front hair.” She had a triumphant look on her face.

I said “No o, it is not like that ma. You can’t use wig. You can’t use anything on your head. Your edges are just too bad. You have to remove the wig.”

“Heeeyy, Anna ti pa mi (Anna has killed me)." She exclaimed.

Source

"You say I can’t use wig." She continued. "Why naa? And I have already cut the hair. Haa!”

“You can’t use wigs because of the elastic.” I said, yanking the wig from her hand, and showed her the elastic band, like she was not aware of its existence. “This elastic will not allow it to grow.”

She was just looking at me. It seemed I had finally brought her down to her knees, begging me for mercy. First, I made her cut her hair, and now, I won’t allow her use a wig to ‘cover her shame.’ Wow, payback is really a …

I knew it was time to leave the room, before Madam Adams made me cry with her dejected face.

Now, the shoe is on the other foot. It is obvious that Madam Adams has given me the power to determine her ‘hair fate’. She has shown me so much pepper that she would thank God if I allowed her use comb on her hair. I have the mind of making her look very strange, in her quest for the return of her edges. By the time I am done with Madam Adams, her hair would become more of a mop hair than mine.

Did you enjoy or learn from the article above? Please, like our Facebook page here. Thank you