I am not my hair……..or am i?

African hair is one of those features that easily distinguishes us of the”Black” race.Its characteristic kinkiness, length and texture distinctively varies from one person to another,nevertheless its always easy to spot.

I have been keeping dreadlocks for two years now.(Yes my babies turned two this october,i think i deseve a pat on the back:-))I too cant believe how fast its been started out when my hair was just but an inch so i can proudly say that i’ve matured them babylocks from what they were then to what they are now.Hair is one of those things a girl is in constant endless battle to have it look good and smartly kept because its one of those features we all know guys will look at and make their own impressions about us based on it.I for one have never been the kind to be patient with hair.I always figured its hair i mean cut it it grows right back.Mine’s the full african hair all the way.kinky as hell and almost quite the steel wool type…..well not literally.Y’all know how hard it is maintaining this kinda hair au naturel.

So in high school i had relaxed my hair.We Africans have been enslaved into that mindset that our hair must look like a mzungus.So we will buy those chemicals that the whiteman has concoted for us to make our hair look like theirs.Relaxing my hair made it quite not easier  to maintain ,well, that is the first few weeks after i had visited the salon.You see in my school once you got in,luxuries such as a visit to the salon were unheard of.You had to wait until you went home for halfterm hence le struggle throughout the term especially when growth set in.Now y’all ladies know that growth is the mother of all troubles for Relaxed hair.It turns your hair into a constant painful playground each time you comb.And that was the stoy of my life all through highschool.

Fastforward to after highschol and i was ready to experiment with all the crazy hairstyles.So i went on from box braids to Ghanaian lines to Abuja braids and the likes.Dont you ever sit down and wonder why we Kenyan girls never put on hair that has a Kenyan name to it.We will always put on anything that sounds foreign.I havent heard of Nairobi braids..or Kisumu lines,you know.Girls always doning Brazilian weaves,Indian Sangita braids,Peruvian hair and a lot more others.So anyway,i tried so many hairdos on my head and every other time i thought about visits to the salon( which entailed undoing,washing,treating and then again sitting for a whole day while my plaiting mama worked on my head)all i could think of was getting a permanent hairdo one that would not have me undego all that process.

And that was when i decided that i woas going to lock my hair.I always used to see ladies in nice locks looking all chic and fabulous and i figured why not.I remember the day i locked my hair how super excited i was and how i couldnt wait for them locks to start droping over my shoulders.I went to bed thinking i’d wake up following day to find them looking like Dakore Egbuson’s(just google her im sure half of anyone that reads this doesnt know her).i soon realized that that was just but a dream and a very long shot at that because turns out they actually required so much patience, care and time to let my hair lock

.And it finally did after a few months and i graduated from babylocks to them dreadlocks.Now dreadlocks are associated with rastafarianism and many are times i have heard people address me as “Mras” which is slang for a rastafari.it used to irk me before but with time i have learnt to let it pass and smile and just allow them to continue wallowing in their ignorance.At times people will come and ask me ,

“Oh my God,are these dreads?They are so preeeety!”

And i’ll smile and just allow them to touch my hair as they wow in amazement.Of course i will not let them see tthat tinge of pride on my face as they tell me this 🙂.Then there are those who will have certain opinions about me just because i have dreadlocked hair.They will ask me why i have dreadlocked hair and im in the school of law.and i’ll wonder just where exactly its written that lawyers are forbidden to have deadlocks.Nonetheless i will let them have those opinions because i know that my hair does not make me who i am neither does it make me any less a person than the next person.If i chose to believe that i’d be bald by now……Just kidding.Hair does not define who you are and yeah i know you’re probably thinking how cliche it sounds but then again dont we all use cliche as a term for all those truths we dont wanna hear about?

My name’s Brenda.And i am not my hair.

Are You yours?


Of Heartaches and picking up the broken little pieces

You have not lived till you’ve loved immensely then had your heart broken by the very person who was the source of your joy and all;the person you’ve loved.
We all at one point in our lives go through stuff which makes us feel like just escaping the world and retreating into outer space,far far away from any human connection.Heartaches are some of that stuff.You think that you are prepared for a heartache,you tell yourself how you’re gonna stand strong in the face of it,how you will not be shaken,how you will not crumble but i kid you not….you can never be prepared for heartache.The moment it hits you like a tornado all your guard tumbles to the ground you feel like your heart’s been yanked straight out of your being.I have been there for the past few days i should know all this.

Those are the times you just wanna be alone and shut the rest of the world out because you dont wanna see anyone else.Every other person’s happy you are not about to let them come tell you that its gonna be okay so you prefer to stay alone and let your sorrow eat you up.Your friends will try hard to be there for you but its just never the same.they will not understand what you are going through because its simply not happening to them.,you are the one undergoing that whole whirlwind of emotions that almost rip  you apart.Sure they’ve also been there but you learn that it can never be quite the same.so you they will try and comfort you,sympathize with you(bless them for that) but after all’s said and done you realize that those few moments of comfort and sympathy slowly fade away and the heartache resumes once more.and its worse when  the very object of your heartache is someone you see day in day out.Kinda like opening up a healing wound every day thus denying its healing.You will try to mask your sadness from those you care about beacause you just dont wanna drag them into your own messy life.they dont deserve to know,you tell yourself.

If you are like me,you will cry into your blankets at night because you dare not let anyone see your tears at daylight.You believe crying only makes you look weak and vulnerable so you will not let the world see that.At night when you are all alone those hot, scalding tears will find their way into your pillow as if to echo Alicia Keys’ song “tears always win” and you will sob for yourself,for your pretty lil heart and start remembering all those things that led you to that point of vulnerability.And you will promise yourself that you wont ever be caught up in such a situation.And after a while your tears will lull you into dreamless sleep because all of a sudden your ability to dream,to be creative feels like its been lost into oblivion.

They say that time’s a healer and honestly the truthness of that is quite relative.it may take days for some,weeks,months and even years but the bottomline remains that in the end you realize that whatever happened was bound to happen.instead of stressing over the things you cannot control you start picking up the pieces of your heart once more putting them back again painstakingly;each piece containing memories
and lessons learnt the hard way.And you step back and look at your newly putback heart and you hold it in the palm of your hands like one would hold an egg;with so much caution.Life does indeed move on.it only stops the day you stop breathing.And until then,life’s got so much to offer,so much happiness alongside with sadness,so much good things alongside with the bad.You learn that pain fades away eventually but the memories live on forever.We are nothing without memories;to remind us where we coming from and to show us where we dont wanna be going.
Ultimately once we have healed,we can then have the power to Love again.irregardless of when that special someone will come again your way,Only when you’ve mended up the torn up parts will it be possible for you to love once more.

New Beginnings

Funny how time goes by so fast that often we’re caught in a  whirlwind of our own lives and when the dust settles it takes a moment for you to remember just who you are exactly.I’m writing this post waay past midnight,to be precise its actually seven minutes past three o’clock and the amount of insomnia belabouring me is so huge you cannot even imagine.

A lots been going on in my life of late and i promise to share it all with everybody and i figure why not start a new blog.i used to blog a while back but i kinda lost my commitment to my old blog and its lying somewhere in the technological word forgotten and abandoned.So much water has passed under the bridge and my new blog is something i am vowing to make constant in my life.I have so much energy ad i literally cant wait my thoughts to flow past this inaugural post.They’ll be sad days, gloomy days, happy days,nervous days,those-i-hate-the-world days,why-me days and many other kinds of days but all in all i will do y best to detail each and every single part of my not-so-glamorous life.

I feel like this calls for a celebration*pops open imaginary champagne*i mean here i  am doing this and i feel so good about it.i will admit i actually am proud of myself.Here’s to closing old chapters of my never-ending story and opening brand new ones.Here’s to new beginnings!CHEERS!