Black History Month - A Tribute to 'Doing Hair' Among Siblings
Friseurin mit schwarzer Schürze steht in einem bunt dekorierten Friseursalon und hält eine Haarbürste
For many Black women and men, professional hair care is a kind of safe space or refuge that almost everyone visits at least once in their life. We often rush through everyday life and have little time for anything, but when we get our hair done, time stands still. We take time for our hair. Someone else takes time for my hair; here I can be who I really am and show my hair as it is.
A tribute for this year's Black History Month to afro shops, Black hair salons and all the siblings in the community who take time to care for afro hair: a place of self care.
When I was a child, my mother always gave me different hairstyles, from African threading to plaits, twists and "pick and leave" curls. While she did my hair, I played with my Barbie dolls and often tried to braid their hair like mine. Sometimes I fell asleep, took breaks to eat or dance, and then ran straight to the mirror to admire myself and ask my mother whether I was a princess now.
Even as adults, we feel beautiful and seen as soon as our hair is done, regardless of style or hair texture.
After my mother moved from Ghana to Germany, she didn't have much time to do her hair every day, as a trained seamstress who worked a lot. In a corner of our hallway stood a large shoe cabinet with mirrored doors.
I remember my mother sitting on a chair in front of it to braid her hair; sometimes it took all day.
As the saying goes: practice makes perfect. And she definitely proved it. By the time she had me and my sister, she had perfected her technique and created beautiful hairstyles for us. I asked her what braiding hair means to her, and she said:
"I'm so grateful that I get to do other people's hair, even though I never learned it professionally. I think it's a talent God gave me."
She adds: "It makes me incredibly happy to create such complex hairstyles for others. When I do hair, I feel like I'm in Ghana. There you go to a trusted professional or salon, so it means a lot to me that people trust me with their hair. It reminds me of my own good experiences with salons in Ghana."
Moved by my mother's impressions, in the days that followed I talked to a Nigerian hairdresser who has lived in Munich for a few years and took a little trip back in time.
As a child in Nigeria, she ran through the fields, braided the grass and brought it to her aunt, with whom she lived. For her next birthday she was given a doll on which she could practise braiding much better.
Over time, and after finishing primary school, she got the chance to learn hairdressing professionally. When asked what braiding hair means to her, she said:
"When I braid hair, I feel free. It's like a kind of exercise for me that releases joy and happiness."
I ask her what goes through her mind while braiding hair.
"I forget the time, because I love braiding hair for others. I try to concentrate fully on what I'm doing to get the hairstyle exactly the way it's wanted.
In our community, the value of and gratitude for such pillars in everyday life simply can't be measured.
Most of us have an "auntie", a friend or a cousin's cousin who does our hair, and without these people a large part of our identity, especially in relation to our hair, would be lost.
In our Afro-German community, products like ours from Afrolocke are developed to support finding an identity, not just for ourselves but also for our hair. This year, during Black History Month, a big thank you to all the symbolic and real pillars who keep all these rituals of self care alive.
Ayekoooo!
Yours, Nana
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