A Call for Hair Care-givers: A Letter to the Hair Stylist who Destroyed my Hair
Dear hair stylist,
It was on a sunny Friday morning that my mother brought me to your salon to have a retouch done on my hair, since I would be attending a prize giving day ceremony in school. I was among the students who were being awarded that day and so my mother had to make sure I was looking stunning. I was 11 years old, just in grade six when it all happened.
Freshia as a young girl, with her hair cropped for school.
My mother loves hair generally and so she began taking care of my hair since kindergarten. She would oil it herself, wash it, then take me to the salon to be plaited since she wasn’t an expert in that area of specialty. To be honest, I loved my hair and all my friends really liked how thick it was, not to mention the black color that brought out its glow. My mother really loved when I retouched my relaxed hair, got it curled, and then styled. On this particular Friday morning, the instructions weren’t any different. My mother left me in the salon and went ahead to buy snacks and run some errands before clearing her schedule to spend the afternoon with me on my big day.
My mother had known you for quite a long time because you were our neighbor. This day she decided to try out your services for the first time. Who would have known that our first encounter with you would be our last? I know one would ask, “but why didn’t you go to your regular hair stylist, you know the one you went to for years?” The answer: “She wasn’t available that day.” If I can remember well, she had a pressing issue that made her travel to her parent’s place for the weekend. That is why we decided to come and try out your services. We trusted you because you were working in a classy salon and you were one of the senior hair stylists.
Going back to that day, while my mother was gone you applied the relaxer chemical on my hair from the roots all the way to the end of the strands after dividing my hair into four portions. You then put a shower cap on my head so that the chemical would have effective results on my hair.
The saddest part of my story creeps in here. After you placed the cap on my head, you told me that you needed to rush to the store to pick up something, and that you wouldn’t take long. You said you would be back before I would even notice. Being an innocent child and being excited about the afternoon ahead of me, I didn’t mind. After fifteen minutes, you were nowhere to be seen. My scalp began burning since the chemical had overstayed on my head and had started eating up my hair follicles, destroying their strength and warming my scalp. During all of this, at this very nice salon other stylists were around. I tried calling one of the stylists to care for me, but they were all busy with their own clients. Some of the stylists were telling me to hold on, and that my stylist is on her way back. I waited for thirty minutes or so. Some of them did try calling you and you told them you were a few minutes away, and that you were coming. And that was the end of my beautiful childhood hair.
You came back apologizing and being sorry but it was too late. You rinsed my hair immediately and you noticed how it was just falling off and couldn’t help but notice the burns on my scalp. They were painful but I couldn’t do anything. You kept me under the dryer on low heat and in a roller set. But I was no longer that happy child that was so excited about the prize giving day. My mother came for me when I was done and she couldn’t help but notice the patches on my head and how my mood had shifted from ninety to twenty percent. You tried to explain yourself to my mother when she asked me why I was acting gloomy and sad. You obviously didn’t tell my mother the whole story. Some information was sugar coated but at that moment I just wanted the day to be over. My mother got angry to a point where she was even regretting having left me alone in the salon. If only we could turn back time, things would be different but since we couldn’t, I decided to embrace my hair and give my scalp time to heal.
I keep asking myself this: I was just a child. Why didn’t any one help me? Why is a young girl’s hair and head not seen as important to protect?
Putting on relaxer.
Today, I mark ten years since that incident occurred. I chopped off all of my hair in high school since it was growing in patches due to the damages the relaxer chemical brought to my follicles and scalp. I began growing my hair immediately after high school which was six years later. Now after four years of consistency and taking care of it, my hair is healthy and so is my scalp. I opted to start a natural hair journey so as to let my scalp and follicles heal. Now I am content with my natural hair and I am not going to relax my hair again. Surprisingly, after that incident, I tried relaxing my hair again when I was in high school before the big chop and my scalp was just not ready because my hair was still falling off.
Did you know how dangerous this chemical was? Actually, do you know now? Aren’t you still a hairdresser?
My hair is probably not as long as it was then, but I love how it has overcome so much and now I can confidently say I am learning to love every bit of my hair and appreciate it. After this traumatizing experience, I have reflected heavily on what it means to get my hair done by someone who has the title of hairdresser and yet is the one person who has ruined my hair. This should never be the case. And it is not only me who has suffered like this. I hear hair stories about bad experiences in salons all the time. The hair salon should be safe for our hair, safe for us.
I wish stylists, like yourself, understood how to take care of our hair. That is the definition of your job, of your title, but that was not what I experienced that day. As a young girl, I took pride in my hair. I really enjoyed having different styles on and just being free with it. Well, feeling free with our hair is not the case for most ladies and girls in Kenya nowadays. They all have a horror hair story to share either about their school, a health condition or a stylist who mishandled their hair or gave the wrong advice. These experiences will keep repeating if we do not take any action, and that means you too.
I think that a reason these experiences will keep repeating is because it seems like many of our stylists are going for money rather than hair-caregiving. When some of us stop seeking your services, and money is even more tight for you all, you forget that it’s because of your poor services that clients never return. In our eyes we believe that stylists often just wash and scrub our hair quickly and anyway they want. We think you are rushing to get to the next client and to get more money. When you all blow dry our hair after washing it, you do it under the dryer at maximum heat so that our hair straightens and dries fast. You all do not seem to care if you are burning our scalp or destroying our hair by applying too much heat. All you seem to care about is how much money you will get at the end of the day.
What I believe is missing for our hair stylists and salons is a desire to care for our hair not simply to do it. Please, view clients differently. It’s never about how many clients you tackle in a day, but about their happiness and meeting their needs. When you provide good services to us at prices that align with the level of care, service, and skill, you won’t have to struggle looking for clients. They will come on their own and most of them will be referred to you by a friend. We have suffered enough and now this is a call to all stylists and salons, to go back to the drawing board and make new rules and adjustments. Why are some stylists just fine, and why are some others destroying our hair and still we call them hair stylists?
My advice to all the girls and ladies reading this article is that it is important for you to find a stylist who listens to you and a salon that also listens to you. I urge Kenyan readers to share with AfricanHairStories.com the stylists that make you feel seen and above all, care greatly for you and your hair. It’s time we recognize them and appreciate their efforts by sharing with others how to seek their services. Also, you never know, you might have the answer for a sister who has been looking for a good hair stylist with no success. Email AfricanHairStories@gmail.com
I am eternally grateful for stylists who understood my hair journey after that incident and helped heal my scalp and hair. For the girls out there, who feel like giving up on their hair, remember your hair doesn’t define you but it can be your pride. Own it and take good care of it for you. The journey to a healthy hair is not easy, but let us keep keeping on! Remember, African hair is a canvas of beauty. Girl, Go Shine Your Shine!
P.S. and to you my former hair stylist, you hurt me, please invest in the knowledge and care of not hurting anyone else.
Freshia Wairimu
Freshia is a Kikuyu young lady from Kenya. She is 21 years old and attends St. Paul’s University.
