Casual Musing with Chioma Emezi
Email: chyemezi@gmail.com Twitter: @cutechyoma
While I do like to make myself look pretty, I do not have the time or the patience to travel to the ends of the earth in search of a stylist or a salon. Yeah, I’m not that passionate about looking good. I always look for salons and stylists in my neck of the woods. Even if they are not topnotch, I fuss and fret until they get the hairstyle right and somehow we always click and have a better understanding of each other. Thereafter, it becomes a walk in the park for me because they get to know exactly how I like my hair or nails done.
Luckily for me, there are two salons on my street, just about four houses away. Their prices are affordable too so this makes me a regular caller and I get new hairstyles at the drop of a hat.
I have also formed bonds with the salon staff. I get invited to their family events such as weddings, naming ceremonies, house warming, graduations, funerals, etc. I buy their aso ebi, dress up and show up at their events as a show of support and solidarity.
When they do not see me in a week or two, they either call or come looking for me at home just to check up on me and ensure all is well at my end.
That is the sort of relationship I have with those salon staff. They know I have their interests at heart and will encourage as well as defend them when and if the need arises.
Once while I was getting my nails ‘did’ in the salon, a very angry looking woman stormed in with her two very pretty little daughters. Not acknowledging anyone’s greeting she began to yell “which of you made my younger daughter’s hair?” A little pause. Then Bose, the lady doing my nails, answered “It’s me Ma”.
Before anyone could say ‘Buhari’ a blinder came from nowhere and landed on Bose’s face! As the angry lady raised her hand to land a second slap on Bose, I quickly blocked it and stood up facing the ‘Jezebel’. Next thing she asked was “How dare you? Are you mad? I will slap you if you don’t mind your business right now”
My blood boiled! My insides churned! Steam oozed out of my ears! I then remembered that I had some kung fu skills. One kick and Madam Jezebel landed on the floor.
I pinned her down and asked the nail lady to give her as many slaps as she wanted. Bose didn’t hesitate. She sat on Jezebel with her generous Ikebe and started dishing out slaps like hot amala. I told her not to stop until she was satisfied.
When she was done, I reluctantly released Jezebel. She struggled to get up and then huffed and puffed out of the salon, cursing and threatening fire and brimstone as she stormed off. The entire salon went up in a cheer. All the ladies were hi-fiving each other and thanking me.
“That woman too harsh and wicked. Na because of her children I still dey attend to them. You no see as she dey change nannies every time? Dem no dey gree stay pass two or three weeks,” said Bose. Others started narrating the ordeal they had suffered in her hands too and said they wished she would stop coming to their salon as they do not like turning customers away especially children.
After that, all was quiet on the western front and we continued with our nail business …or so we thought.
Twenty-five minutes later, we saw an SUV come to a screeching halt in front of the salon with fierce looking camouflage-clad soldiers jumping out, combat ready. They were wielding horsewhips and belts.
Right there was red-faced ‘Jezebel’ who stood in front of the salon and pointed at Bose and I saying “Na them be dat” “Which ones? These ones wey sidon near this door?” asked one of the soldiers. “Yes, the two of them,” she said.
As the soldiers made to enter the Salon, I jumped up from my chair and then… I WOKE UP…with a racing heart, drenched in my own sweat.
This is the reason why I hate coming down with fever. Gives me some very weird and out-of-this-world dreams.
Make una no vex jare. Blame it on the fever.
