Kampala born Kirabo has a knack for fashion and in another life, she was born in New York City. She dreams of going there but is too broke to even live alone. She lives with her elder sister Mutesi, who treats her like a child because she spends and acts like one. The weekly struggles are all (unintentionally) fashion related. She narrates her story of trying to realize her dreams while sliding in tips of how she gets by looking like a million bucks on a very slim wallet. She interns at a law firm in Kampala.
A phone calendar reminder woke me up this morning, quite rudely I must admit. I was still dreaming about walking with my carryon bag towards an airplane. My ticket was blurry but at least I was leaving!! Waking up just as I stepped foot inside the plane made me sad inside.
When I looked at my phone, it wasn’t an alarm but a calendar reminder of one of my friends’ birthdays. The next notification made me cringe a little. It seems a WhatsApp group had been created for said friend’s upcoming birthday. Ughh! Apparently, these guys want us to take her to an Ethiopian restaurant.
Talks about contributing 40k each for this event were all over the group’s feed. 40 thousand shillings!! Minus transport, minus anything but the food! I can’t with these kids, oba who do they think they are, who do they think we are… I wished I could leave the group without causing so much of a ruckus. On the flip side, I really wanted to try out that popular Ethiopian food. “How do I convince Mutesi? Maybe I’ll try Kato, her hubby this time. He has quietly bailed me out many times,” I thought to myself.
While I was still in this train of thought, someone in the group made a brilliant suggestion, “ladies shouldn’t have to pay anyway, just plan. Fellas lets pick up the tab.”
“Beautiful creatures like him deserve trophies!!” I grinned.
I noticed that the other guys in the group didn’t want to protest, and reluctantly agreed to the terms at hand. We were left with the job of looking good and bringing party favors. I chose to bring the firecrackers. As I turned in bed, I reached up to run my hands through my hair and noticed it was incredibly dry. No one tells you this when you’re going to color it all out that, the hair sips up all the moisture faster than ever when any sort of tint is applied. My hair felt like steel wool. It felt like I had been standing out in the sun for two straight days. It felt like I could start a small fire by rubbing two strands together. I couldn’t deal with life like this.
I dragged my feet out of bed and cringed at the icy cement floors. I really need a carpet. I dragged myself to the bathroom to assess the situation in better light. The hair used to be platinum blonde, now it looked a little ashy yellow, with fresh black roots sprouting from the bottom. I will wait for more growth and go for a touchup. At least, they should make it fade into a darker blonde so that I don’t have to keep retouching… in due time I’ll have ombre hair!
Waiiiiit! I’m going to look so bomb. For now I look so… unbomb! Anyway, I look down at my phone at the message my hair chick sent me;
Check the ingredients of your shampoo, throw out anything that has any kind of sulphate in it
Don’t over wash the hair, but apply enough leave in conditioner, deep condition 6 times a month instead of 4 – you need moisture
When moisturizing, hair oil alone won’t cut it. Try this method; leave in conditioner, oil (coconut, olive, argan or whatever you have) then cream. That should keep your hair hydrated.
Oh, and don’t wash it with hot water. Use lukewarm or cool water. It will keep the color in, as bright as it is.
First of all, cool water?!?? This kyana must be kidding me! Well the moisturizing routine I could jump on – I had jojoba oil and a dope leave in. I saw a hair butter bottle in Mutesi’s drawer, I’ll borrow some. I took the hair scarf off and poured some oil in it to pre-shampoo. I need time for this wash-day, it’s about to be so exhausting but worth it.
I cleansed the roots and deep conditioned, while Mutesi was in my ear the whole time about “wasting time” like didn’t she have anything better to do with her time? Ugh… I rinsed out the conditioner while shivering and made some flat twists.
Anyway, come time for that party I know I’ll look like a cute little flame… for now I’ll have to wear a head wrap because I’m not removing these flat twists before the big day, over my split ends…
………
Look out for part 7
Cover photo by William Stitt on Unsplash
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