Friday 26 August 2011

Of Male Hairdressers...

I have extremely tough and sensitive hair. The kind that can wash your greasy sufuria clean and the kind that can easily fall out if not handled with care. As a result, I have had very few hair-dressers constant in my life. In fact I have only had three... One was my auntie. She discovered that my hair had to be "hot-combed" and not blow-dried because the latter did not work. The Second is Maggie. She has done my hair since I was ten; which means she has done my hair for over ten years although at some point our relationship was on a break - a break that cost me my hair - all of it. Enters Njagi. He took care of my hair when all I had was short hair - extremely short hair. He gave me a punk kinda look. He was good at it and good looking as well. I was young then so I thrilled at the idea of going to get my hair done. He had a tattoo on the left side of his chest. Yes, I was young and fascinated by him (it was not love or even a crush), it was fascination. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. These three hair dressers were never "local hairdressers." Two things: One, as a child, I was paranoid that local hairdressers would chop off my long thick black beautiful hair. Two, They never got it right -My hair was never as good when done in local salons. Sadly, my aunt passed away. I got tired of short hair thus ended my relationship (strictly professional :p) with Njagi thus Maggie and I re-united and I have never looked back, not yet anyway.

There is a saying about necessity and desperate times... No? Oh well! Anyhow, recently I had to visit a local salon (don't get me wrong, I have nothing against them) because I was broke, didn't have time to go far and wide to Maggie and didn't care much how I'd look. So I walked to the nearest  neighborhood salon. I was firstly beyond myself in shock to find a salon ran by men in my neighborhood. I have heard all manner of stories about male hair-dressers... all good, if I may add. Besides, I had experienced Njagi. :)

The gentleman to whom I was assigned to had long relaxed hair... I have a problem with that look on men. I think its gross and wanting! Anyhow, he began to "work his magic." Allow me to say the following, Njagi never washed my hair, he combed it and styled it. This guy - I have forgotten his name - washed my hair! Hmmmmm.... I must have fallen asleep at some point. He was gentle and thorough. He massaged my head and I relaxed wholly. I must have deluded myself into thinking I was at a spa of sorts. I did mention at some point I have extremely tough hair... He must have gotten carried away, or noticed how thrilled I was because he did not notice my hair tangling and I... well, I was too relaxed to pay attention to my tangled hair. I was snapped out of my pleasant delusion by the pain I experienced while he tried to comb my hair. It was temporary pain though, because as I said, he was gentle and he untangled strand by strand. He was patient.

Fast forward to the highlight of my experience there. Apparently as he noticed I was stiff (LOL!) and gladly offered me a massage... Neck and shoulder massage - so that he could comb me well. Again, I drifted to a mini-heavenly place. He took it a step further and massaged my temples and ears. Need I say that I was, super excited - too much to hide it. :) When I opened my eyes, he was starring at me through the mirror and smiling. I have heard stories about male hairdressers. I barely returned the smile - yes! yes! I know it costs nothing, but I would get a good hairdo anyway because I was paying for it. :-D He gave me another massage. Sadly, this time it was interrupted by a high-pitched voice. 
"Jose*, wewe kazi yako ni ku-seduce customer wako na massage hizo zako nilizokufundisha?"

*That was a really rude interruption if you ask me*

His response: "Mambo sweetie, nilikuwa namalizia nikuje home"

Crazy woman: "Kwani hufikii? Tangu juzi umekuwa wapi?"

His response (as he continues to massage me and I struggle to hide my relax-induced excitement): "Nakuja home"

Crazy woman (to me): "wewe, ulikuja huku lini? Unajua hivi ndivyo hufanyiwa wasichana... Anawa-massage alafu wanaenda home na yeye?"

*Hard Blink* & Jose* walks away and brings me coffee.

The woman walks away in a huff hurling insults at him.

Shortly after, a woman walked in and came straight to Jose* and told him she missed him last night and says she will be expecting him later on!

Jose* was not the least bit embarrassed as he finished doing my hair. Not the least bit. He asked me to leave  him my number and to make sure I go back another day. 

I smiled, paid and walked my relaxed-self out of there. 

I have never been a fan of neighborhood salons... That experience reminded me why... All the same, there is something about male hairdressers and how easily they have their way with female clients. Maybe the next time I'm broke and in a hurry, I will go back to Jose* - for the massage, if nothing else.

Monday 15 August 2011

"Their" Vagina Monologue...

I think Feminism cannot and will never exist in its purest form. Nothing exists in its purest form. Not democracy nor dictatorship, not capitalism nor communism, not love nor hate. Few things in this world exist in their purest, or are clear cut; black or white. One of those things is life and death. But feminism is not pure nor is it black and white. It cannot be pure because Man, the male species, was created to be the Head; to be "superior" to the woman. But let us not dare confuse superiority for domination and/or oppression.

The feminist in me believes that every woman should be given a chance; a chance to exercise Free Will - rightfully given to her by her Maker. A chance to prove her self as a successful mother, career woman, friend, foe, whore (if you like), angel or devil. A chance to enjoy life and the things that come with it. A choice to enjoy SEX; because it is a GOD-GIVEN right. Sex because it was God's invention/creation... and all that was created by God is perfect and good.

Perhaps this explains my contempt towards the men in Igembe, Meru. The  men who will fail to marry a girl because she has not been "cut". The men who impregnate a girl at the age of 15 and refuse to marry her because she is not "cut" (took you long enough to figure that out! Mister!?!). The men who discriminate against uncircumcised women at this day and age! Talk about narcissist and barbarous beings. 

The feminist in me doesn't feel obliged to believe that God was out of His element when He created a woman as she is... With her clitoris. My heart bleeds for the young girls in Igembe who have been deprived of much; formal education, free will and the right to enjoy sex... All in the name of seeking for acceptance. I suppose given an opportunity, the vagina monologue of the girls would be as follows:

"My vagina swimming river water, clean spilling water over sun-baked stones over stone clit, clit stones over and over. Not since I heard the skin tear and made lemon screeching sounds, not since a piece of my vagina came off in my hand, a part of the lip, now one side of the lip is completely gone." (Excerpt from  The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler). 



Female genital mutilation is torture, not a culture. ~Alice Walker~



Did you know: VAGINA FACTS FROM THE VAGINA MONOLOGUES
  1. Genital mutilation has been inflicted on 80 [million] to 100 million girls and young women. In countries where it is practiced,mostly African, about 2 million youngsters a year can expect the knife—or the razor or a glass shard—to cut their clitoris or remove it altogether, [and] to have part or all of the labia . . . sewn together with catgut or thorns.
  2. The clitoris is pure in purpose. It is the only organ in the body designed purely for pleasure. The clitoris is simply a bundle of nerves: 8,000 nerve fibers, to be precise. That's a higher concentration of nerve fibers than is found anywhere else in the body, including the fingertips, lips, and tongue, and it is twice the number in the penis.
My heart bleeds for the dominated and oppressed girls in Igembe... It bleeds even more for how primitive the men who advocate for Female Genital Mutilation are in their thoughts. 

Parting quote to these men: I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use. ~Galileo Galilei~

Have a non-primitive week!

Thursday 11 August 2011

The Beautiful Ones Are Born!

"God must have spent a little more time on you".... Musician

If you are a girl, at some point in your life, you have met a man who has told that God must have spent a little more time on you or you have met one who has said something just as sweet/cocky depending on how well you take compliments. If you haven't met such a man, be patient. He is coming your way soon enough. In the same breathe, if you are a woman, there is a man (who is most likely not your current catch) who when you first saw him - through whichever medium - left you breathless and you have sworn to your girls that if you knew then what you know now.... Every woman meets a man who she can't have but that man; that man... That one God spent an entire lifetime on him. I believe the same applies to men... There is that girl - who is not your mpango wa kando, your wife, girlfriend or friends with benefit, who you'd die to have/meet. Take for example:BikoZulu and his love for Toni Braxton... I mean, if Toni came to Kenya I have a strong feeling he would probably pass out or throw his boxers at her - kinda like how girls throw their undies at Usher Raymond...Ooooh Usher Raymond! *Sigh*  God surely did spend more time on you. Everyone has that one person who is all that and a bag of chips.... 

*ENTER BORIS KODJOE*

To dare say God spent a little more time on him is to put it lightly. If you ask me, God created him on a really good day! The kind of day when God woke up happier than usual. He had had a goodnight with the angels. They had sang to Him harmoniously. Told Him how AWESOME He is. His coffee was just right that morning. The mood had been sent just right. The dust was finer than usual that day. God's hands were rested. My mirror of the past tells me that on the day Boris Kodjoe was created, everything was better than perfection

 
A smile of perfection. His teeth & lips. His ears are just right; not too big nor too small - perhaps a sign that he is a different kind of man,one who hears what his lady says to him... or so I wish. He is perfectly built. His skin tone is just right... Dark and bald!

This man is beauty personified. He looks good in black and white pictures just as he does in colored ones... See below: 

He looks good in hat; 

I cannot even begin to imagine what I'd throw at him if he was on vacation in Kenya... Myself, my shoes... He'd be spoiled for choice.

I'm curious though: When the female angels saw him, did they secretly wish they could become human and get to have him? *Sigh*

Boris, God was in a happy place when he created you! You are evidence that the beautiful ones have been born and walk amongst us! :) *Drool*