Do you ever wish your mood or psyche had a factory reset option? A button that would restore you to your normal self. Preferably your normal self is happy-go-lucky. I wish I had one of those.
This week started out with me giving a talk to form ones at my alma mater. A talk on goal setting. As expected…so much nostalgia! Except the tables were turned.
Do you have a bucket list?
After a little over two and a half years, I went to the salon this week. Yes, two and a half years, no, I have not been growing one big dreadlock on my head. Okay, now that that bold declaration is out of the way, here’s a little background information. In 2011, while I was in fourth form, I decided to cut my hair. The BC. Non-naturalista folk, BC stands for ‘Big Chop’. Unlike in the religious context where BC are the years ‘Before Christ’, the years pre-enlightenment, in the world of textured hair BC is the beginning. This is the point of enlightenment after which full edges, voluminous bouncy curls and good vibes only follow. Not to sound biased against anyone with textured hair who chooses to wear their hair in any other way, but c’mon, I’m a naturalista, of course I will tell you all about the much greener grass on my side. I cut my hair on the day I finished my mock examinations. Came right home from a horrible Fasihi paper (Kiswahili…hmph!) picked up a pair of scissors and chopped it off. Loved it! A few hours later after washing my hair, shrinkage manifested. Hated it! I immediately regretted my decision, but the beauty of occasionally throwing yourself into the deep end is that you leave yourself with very few choices, two, sink or swim.
“Raisa!” called out her mother and not for the first time.
“What’s taking you so long?” she added although she already knew. In the living room was a guest, a guest that any 18 year old girl would dread… a suitor. Her mother hoped this would be the one for her. Rashad was kind and respectful. Hopefully, this was not just a front.