Wave nouveau.

A cold wave perm that I had installed and if you read my previous blog. It was how the first salonist installed it and I hated it. There was no difference between it and the natural hair journey. That was in Kenya.

My hair journey followed me to Newyork, Westchester where I now stay and I googled the shop that specifically does wave nouveau and I went there praying for the person to know about this chemical. I can’t handle a big chop again.

So I went and it came out fantastic. I loved it. It was wavy not curly.

So if you Google and see all this pictures of curls no. It’s not curly. Its wavy. It’s the kind of hair that you come out of the house looking like a wet wavy hotness and you will return home in a dry wavy sometime hotness sometimes you gonna look in the mirror and panic because that is how you looked all day.

We all have that kinda hair day.

This is how its going to look after. Comb through it. Tossle it a bit. But I am the last person to teach , I am a learning about my hair.


I have never felt so black in my life.

Coming from an African country and surrounded by black community and I got to America and it doesn’t hit me. I am with my mother or sisters but then my aunty travels and asks me to babysit her grandchild. The grandchild to her white husband and that little bubble hit me so hard.

My self consciousness was ringing bells when he picked me up with the granddaughter and I remember us going into the restaurant and feeling eyes on us.

I am probably the nanny or I am sleeping with the old guy but who cares! I don’t know…I care. To not care is an art I have to learn because shit even now I do not want to step out of the house with just the two of them.

Money is good. But anxiety…

Caring about what people think. I care about that.

I thought I was untouchable in that category until I was the black woman walking outside next to an old man and holding a white girls hand.

It’s a feeling of embarrassment…scared to be judged. Inner heart telling me to find a sign that says ‘just babysitting the kid, Not sleeping with the guy’

I am so close to begging him to lock myself in the house but I gotta stop caring.


Two hours later…

Two hours later after my very long procedure in which i ditched the natural hair journey only to end up back to natural hair.

Wave nouveau. The curly perm that had been my new obsession. My friend has it and her hair looks bad ass and i wanted it too, Only the outcome was very different.

I looked everywhere in town and ending up and thinking finally a salon that has the products and a hairstylist who knows and i left the salon looking like a hot piece of ass with beautifully curly hair only to arrive home and it’s like it weathered a storm and it’s frizzy, dry and if it had skin. It would resemble a dried up prune.

The three step procedure where on the first round it did not …what’s the word? My hair did not turn out as it should be and he told me that the product was over and perhaps i should come another time and i looking at my hair thinking.

Now what the fuck will i do?

Well i threw caution into the wind and told him to go on with it and poured this bloody painful second step liquid that i felt like it was burning my skull.

Should it?

Feel like it’s burning my scalp?

I pierced my ears three each ear on the same day and it was not as painful as i felt this.

I was kind of happy about the turn out of my hair when i walked out and ended up staring at the mirror when i arrived home thinking of ways to ruin the man’s god damn career only it was i who told him to go on. What the hell would i have done? Gone to the nearest hair shop and buy when it’s by the way expensive and i did not think it was safe to apply again. That’s just asking for my hair to quit on me.

Do i regret it? Yes. No. Maybe, i don’t know. I am majorly disappointed with how it turned out. I’d be lying if i said that i did not. Looking at the bright side. Ignoring the fact my hair is frizzy…it’s can be combed without my head automatically following the comb and the next salon i go to they better know about installing Wave…no…(something). *For some reason i keep finding myself almost googling the word just to copy paste it. *

My hair journey is always a bumpy ride off late but it has just began.  It’s never going to smooth sailing.

It is not the end. Nope. What to do with my hair now is the question. Though i am told to wait for a week. A week. Am i allowed to apply oil to the hair? what i am going to do is what i will discover this bloody christmas.

I’ll keep posting about my hair adventures.



Bad hair dresser is the blame for this new predicament i am in.

Death After big chop? (2)

Now last year on the same day I made a post about my big move on chopping my hair. Let me tell you. The journey is so far showing me amazing things.

I will not lie to you. It hasn’t been all that amazing. The first months were like I was going through withdrawals. It was hard. Omfg it was hard. I lacked self esteem and As much as I am happy about it now. It was never easy then. I didn’t have a good look with the short hair. 

I really did not. My head looked larger and It took patience until it was long enough to start braiding and I braided…

I shaved sides and I am still with it. Never liked my side hair.

So if you read some of my hair posts. You would know a clue about a little of what I went through. 

I even stopped trying to dress nice because looking in the mirror was hard. Taking a selfie was harder. So I braided. Braiding in my country is cheap. All I needed to do is wash, treat and braid. All costing 2 ksh including the braids. Other braids needed me to add 500 ksh. And I still get change for bus fare.

And looking back at the YouTube videos of the hair products to use and shit, i can’t afford that and if I did. I am too lazy to do my hair in all that process when I can get a wash and treatment and blow dry for only 500 ksh that is American 5dollars.

And now that my hair is longer. Shit my hair in one year is freaking long. Even I can’t believe it. I remember struggling to keep it long all my 23 years and when I cut it, the progress of my hair looks like half of those 23 years. In one year. 


I am bloody happy.

So bloody happy.

I am still on the natural hair journey. I am giving it another year and I am going to flipping my hair around like those hair commercial women.

I love box braids a lot and I am going to be trying faux locs. My head is the fragile skull that I wince at everything and my head automatically Moves with the hair dryer to avoid the pain. I am that annoying customer who hisses at everything.

Lol…not funny though, I am doing my best. 

Bye…see you perhaps in a year to come where I boast about how much the hair journey has been fruitful for me.

Whatever happens. They are still family.

Once in a while I am required to visit my aunty who made the life of my sister and I horrible when we were young. She is still horrible but we are older and we can handle her. 

Yet I am surprised I am able to stand her and I am surprised with how much my family have to stand each other for the name of family. 

My rural home is like a close neet neighborhood who lands were divided between them and they build homes next door to each other and family gatherings where they all unite and have meals and underneath it all…

They all had secrets. 

You would never know the grandmother I hug and watch her have a hearty conversation with my Aunty. Never knowing this grandmother abused this Aunty when she was young and was also the woman who molested this Aunties brothers. 

Yet they cook a meal and drinks with fellow cousins and everything is buried. 

Not knowing that once upon a time I cried when my grandfather died he had continuously raped my mom and her big sister when they were young. 

They all moved on not forgetting but they had no one to turn to. No one knows and if they knew at that time nothing would have happened. It was kept a secret…

It completely makes me understand why most of the women in my family are bitter women. They are very bitter women who have never gotten any kind of justice and they can’t because family is family. What can you do? 

I do not have that kind of strength to stomach it like they did. They go and make a meal for a man who molested them. They laugh with their wives and their children. They pay medical fees for them. Help them. Because of family. 

Following up To my Hair Alterations.

Yesterday I posted about my discion to have my hair locked. Sisterlocs. You should have seen how excited I was and I Started searching for how it would cost and right after I simply just stopped having hope. 

The cost for sisterlocs are bloody expensive. 

Sure I would have asked for cash from my mom but not 20k people. I can’t even try and open my mouth to try and even utter the words ‘mom…I need 20k’. 

Sisterlocs are the kind of styles that you dig into your own pocket and pay it. Money that I will have it when I am 30. Perhaps at that time. I will have 20k pocket cash to use however I please but now I don’t even know what to do to have that kind of cash as pocket money. 

Everybody meaning my friends and bro all were cool and like me when they heard the price. They were like “what the hell?” 

My Sisterloc dreams crashed before they even started. I ain’t going to dish out 20k…right now.

What do I do to motivate myself? “Perhaps when I am 30 the prices will have dropped.”

That is what I say. I have got six years to save and hope prices will drop in this six years.

I am moving on to other styles to try on my head. 

More hair altering choices. 

I thought I was done with life changing choices. Like cutting my hair. Now I have decided on locking my hair. 


Yes thanks to Pinterest once again. I am trying to find out how much it will cost to install one and make the plunge. After cutting my long hair. I am no longer scared of taking big risks with it. I am going to do it and try and hustle money from my bro or mum. I am a freeloader and at my age. Asking money is harder. It’s called true hustling and I have the best argument. I am locking my hair. They will not hear from me…a lot. This is what put me into the box. 

I want that…so bad. *sigh*. I’ll get back to you once I have taken the dive.