My skill is my passion. Nobody will tell me otherwise.
I wasn't too sure what skill of mine I was going to write on; they were skills I had acquired over the years and have come to love so much. One was my ability to convert my imagination into words. It took time for me to find the right skill to apply to how I wanted my imagination to be conveyed, and fortunately, writing became my art.
But I won't be talking about my writing skills; rather, I will love to talk about how skilled I am at handling people's hair. I was so young when I started fantasizing and admiring African braids. How do they do it? I will often ask myself, and I will watch for hours how my mom or a hairstylist took their time to create something beautiful on someone's hair. Sometimes I will get so lost in watching that the grownups will think I am sitting around just to listen to their conversation. Then they will do what every grownup does—send you to go do something even if it's not necessary—but that never stopped me.
My mom knew I developed this anxious curiosity from watching her braid or weave a person's hair, but I never showed any interest in wanting to make a person's hair; I just watched attentively.
The first time I braid someone's hair was in high school or secondary school. I had cultivated so much fear in my mind that if I eventually made someone's hair, I might mess it up, so I practiced it out of enjoyment on grass, weaving perfectly. I didn't even have the privilege of owning a doll that I could make its hair at least practice from it. But my first braid was the first boost to my confidence. It started with my friend back then in high school. Every time she wanted to loosen and wash her hair, she always called me to help her out. Her excuse was that I wasn't like those hair salon ladies who never took pity on the fact that her hair was long and painful; any mistake could lead to hair loss or her scalp hurting her for weeks. So I was the perfect candidate when it came to washing her hair.
But that fateful day, after washing and blow-drying her hair, she slept off, and I took that to my own advantage as I braided her hair. In my mind, I was going to lose the hair before she woke up. But guess what? She woke up immediately I was done braiding and styling her hair, and her reaction was one I couldn't forget. She was so happy and content with the way I weaved; she felt no pain, and the work was neat. From that day on, I became her personal hairdresser.
I was so good at it that when I got into college, I started earning money from it. It was something I could wake up in the middle of the night to do. Sometimes I just create hairstyles out of nowhere, and I am amazed at how it came about. But what made this skill of mine stand out from the rest was the dedication and the amount of time I put into it. I wasn't lazy, nor have I ever lost interest in doing it. The only thing that could make me not dress a person's hair is if I'm so busy; for example, I have an exam the following day, I would have to read of course.
Though I won't trade any of my skills for anything, making African braids is something I know I will forever love to do. And I see myself establishing this skill and going places with it.
All images are mine.
