How Afros Came To Be
“Mama, how come my hair is all squiggly?”
“It’s a long story baby.”
“Please tell me! I’ll be as quiet as a mouse and listen.”
She sighs, “Okay, sit down on the cushion.” She grabs a brush and begins to work her daughter’s afro into a bun…
On the last day of creation, God was extra tired. She’d spent all day putting the finishing touches on her beloved children. She had drawn every single eyelash, hair strand, belly button, ear whorl and birthmark.
As she retired to rest, the angel Lailah, who was in charge of the night and conception of little miracles, said, “You are yet to put hair on your children of the night.”
And God replied, “I couldn’t come up with a good enough idea. Hand me my sketchbook. I’ll see what I can doodle.”
She sat in her forever twilight room where she loved to rest. The light was just right and the soothing waters seemed to splash just out of sight. An ever sweet and gentle breeze blew, carrying an eternity of promise.
She closed her eyes and set pen to paper, letting all the thoughts of creation flow. It was a meandering stream of thought that wandered here and there — coiling and doubling back. It was complex and beautiful.
When she opened her eyes, she found she had drawn an afro. But it wouldn’t be called that for centuries yet. At first glance, it was one dense jumble, just like the universes. Looking closer, each strand told a squiggly tale of a pattern that was both uniquely itself and intrinsically everything else.
That’s how African hair came to be — coily and squiggly. Uniquely itself, yet everything else as well.
If you loved this story, check out Why We Want to See Our Fave Artists Naked and one of my favourite topics (healthy periods) Winning The Menstrual Cup.
