The politics of hair in AfricaBy LYNETTE MUKAMI | Thursday, October 24
2013 at
18:22
A story is told in the 2012 Kevin MacDonald documentary; Marley, of a not-so-well-known love affair between Pascaline Bongo (Daughter of first Gabonese President Omar Bongo) and the late Jamaican music legend Bob Marley. In it, Pascaline says that the first time she met the singer backstage after an electric concert in the US, he took one look at her and said she was ugly.
However, he was quick to clarify that he did not
mean it in a literal sense. Rather, he really disliked her straightened
hair. It turns out rastas are not fans of unnatural hair.
Hair is not an apolitical subject for the black
folk, whether in Africa or in the diaspora; its texture, how to style
it, how we wear it, long, short, wavy, bone-straight, braided or even
woven.
Indeed it isn’t, because for many African women, hair isn’t just hair. It’s a statement.
Many will remember during the 2013 Olympics when
online conversation about 16-year-old African American Olympian Gabby
Douglas went from being about her stellar performances to an absurd debate about her ‘unkempt’ hair.
The tress police don’t spare children either. The
same criticism has been levelled on actress Angelina Jolie’s Ethiopian
born daughter Zahara and Beyonce’s daughter Blue Ivy, telling the famous
mothers to ‘tame’ their daughters’ wild locks.
On a recent travel to South Africa, I made an
interesting observation. Almost all the southern African women I came
across wore their hair natural, either dreadlocked or in a combed fro,
something that you don't see too often in Nairobi, or even in Lagos.
It’s interesting to note the varying attitudes
towards hair in urban areas across Africa. In southern African
countries, women prefer to keep it simple. In eastern Africa, the trends
vary between chemically straightened, weaved, and everything in
between. In the very cosmopolitan Nigerian cities, you’ll be lucky to
catch a glimpse of a woman’s natural hair.
The litmus test
Is how a woman decides to wear her hair the litmus
test of African pride? The answer, it seems, may depend on what end of
the continent you pose the question.
According to Luso Mnthali, South African women do
love their hair natural. She says, however, it also depends on what part
of the country they are.
“Jo’burg women aren't really into keeping natural
hair - they relax a lot, and put in weaves. This is seen as part of
being successful or following certain trends.”
Hair preference may also have a lot to do with age.
“You see a lot of older women opting for short
hair. The younger crowd go for what's fit for self-expression… black
women here are no longer afraid to express their identities via their
hair,” she adds.
An African lady sports an elegant mohawk.
She says that women can now be feminine and
without having to fit into others’ manufactured ideas of what they
should look like. After years of braiding, big and ultra-curly feminine
hair, Luso decided to shave it all off.
“I love expressing myself now without that need to
be "pretty". I am not pretty, I do not have a conventional look. I am
the woman who doesn't stand out, but then stands out because she is
bald.”
So would she ever consider a weave?
“I happen to think weaves are part of a global
culture of white supremacy. I've only ever worn one once and I have a
photo of it. I look abnormal. My own naturally curly African hair (when I
grow it) is what makes me stand out, or even look halfway beautiful. I
love its texture, colour, even the parts that went prematurely grey.”
In Lagos, however, the script is very different. The preference for most women seems to be weaves.
From watching their movies (where you will almost
never see a Nigerian actress with her natural hair) one would be
forgiven for thinking that it’s taboo to be seen sporting your natural
African hair.
However, not all weaves are equal.
Low income group
Jennifer Joel-Obado, a Nigerian research policy
analyst opines that in her country, natural kinky hair is just not
fashionable. “Weaves are a comfortable and cheap way to look cool… but
there is a status to the quality of the weaves. ‘Big girls’ go for
Peruvian, Brazilian, and Indian Weaves’. The low income group make do
with indigenous and Chinese weaves such as Yaki and Expressions.”
Weaves are popular because they're affordable and easy to style.
Despite this, she chooses to wear her hair natural
because it’s more convenient and less of a fuss. She, however, adds
that there needs to be a discourse on neo-imperialism and what she
considers ‘self-loathing’.
“I believe people should wear what is comfortable for them. But please, do not attempt to replicate the Barbie look!”
For Auma Njaga, a Kenyan, being a competitive
swimmer in high school and college meant that relaxed hair was out of
the question. Keeping it natural was simply more convenient.
“Later on, when I realised I’d be leaving Kenya
for Germany, I began researching how to take better care of my natural
hair as I'd have to groom it personally. That is when I would say my
true journey and appreciation for natural African hair began.”
She vividly recalls a comment from a fellow male
Nigerian colleague in Germany that took her aback. He asked if she
maintained her natural locks for religious reasons.
“That he would think my preference for natural hair (over weaves) could never simply be a personal preference, shocked me.”
Dermatologist Nonhlanhla P. Khumalo, in an article
on the history of African hair care, notes that there’s no tangible
information on how Africans cared for hair hundreds of years ago as
there’s no written history on it.
However, from more recent pre-colonial stories
passed on through the older generations, there’re suggestions it may
have been a comedy of errors.
“Although not written down, fascinating stories of
more recent hair care (and hair disasters) are often told by older
women about straightening hair using hot stones even before hot combs
became available.”
The quest for straighter, more ‘beautiful’ hair
has transcended generation after generation of African women. And it
gets more creative with every one; from the hair-singeing hot comb in
the 70s and 80s, to the blow-dryer and now the flat iron.
Unsightly patches
It would seem that not a lot of African women are
too excited to spot their natural, kinky locks, except those from the
southern tip of the continent. Could it be that South African women were
proudly wearing their fros while most of Africa was patiently waiting
by the coal fire for the hot-comb to turn red?
Dr Joyce Nyairo, a cultural analyst, says it had
little to do with black pride than with politics. According to her,
apartheid effectively blocked black South Africans from all the
developments that were going on in the world of black hair.
“In the 70s, black South Africans never braided
with raffia; in the early 80s, they were left out of the twist, braid
and Maasai twist revolution that rocked Nairobi, Kinshasa and Kampala.
And in the late 80s and early 90s, the chemical revolution passed them
by.”
She adds that when they eventually caught up with
the perm in the millennium, the hairdressers were atrocious and
oftentimes over-processed clients’ hair. With few if any treatments, the
poorly maintained locks would invariably fall off, leaving behind
unsightly patches.
“What better moment to pick up a political statement than when your hair has failed to catch up with the rest of the continent?”
Even so, natural hair is becoming popular again.
Especially for young diasporan Africans, hair is a form of expression
that is a big part in their identity.
However, Dr Nyairo is convinced that most Africans
in the diaspora prefer to keep their hair natural, out of convenience
after they realise how expensive it is to maintain chemically
straightened hair. With many facing up to $140 for a simple retouch,
going natural seems the only sensible choice.
“I reckon most people at that point will sooner
keep dreadlocks and avow Dedan Kimathi and General Mathenge as the
greatest thing that ever happened to them!”
Black pride
She adds that Bob Marley also played a part in popularising dreadlocks back in the 80s when his sound went global.
“Once he got to Zimbabwe for the 1980 independence
celebrations, the freedom-fighters of Zim found a new reason to keep
the dreadlocks they had been forced to grow in the long days of their
armed struggle to topple Ian Smith's Rhodesia.”
Dreadlocks and afros back then were a symbol of
black pride, a statement of black power which was embodied not just by
Bob Marley, but by many afro-revolutionists around the world from the
60s to the 80s.
Marcus Garvey, the prominent Jamaican black
activist who created a ‘back to Africa’ movement and inspired civil
rights activists acknowledged that a re-centering of sense of pride was a
pre-requisite for politics of resistance.
Frantz Fanon, the French Creole philosopher who
would come to influence many black revolutionaries across the world
(including South Africa’s Steve Biko) regarded cultural preferences by
blacks for all things white as a sign of ‘psychic inferiorisation’. This
would include the straightening of black hair.
Many black revolutionaries and even prominent
figures have incorporated their natural hair as a major part of their
afro-political identity.
From Bob Marley, to Wangari Maathai, Yvonne Chaka Chaka and even Nigerian writer Wole Soyinka’s famous shock of white hair.
Email: lmukami@ke.nationmedia.com
SOURCE: AFRICA REVIEW
SOURCE: AFRICA REVIEW
