Dreadlocks used to represent anticonformity. They were initially a religious thing, with rastafarians and Mungiki. Then they became a feminist thing, a uniform for ladies who use Ms. After that, they became a visual banners for stylish types who preferred to go ‘natural’.

In my case, it’s the only do that works on my head. But I still like the idea of rebelling a little, which is why I try to keep them short. Try, because hair growth is very tempting. It’s like diamonds, but with shampoo.

As much as we dislike it, we are judged by how we look, what we wear, how we dress our hair. I think that’s partly why I’ve never replaced my nose ring. I’ve worn one since I was sixteen – partly for rebellion, partly for Tushauriane’s Esther, but mostly to look Nubian. Dark girls were hot back then; they still are. Plus, I was at the Plain Jane stage of growth; I thought the bling made me look pretty.

When I lost my nose ring at the pool some months back, I considered getting another one, but then I realised it wasn’t really necessary. I’m no longer the wild sixteen-year-old. Actually, I was never a wild sixteen-year-old, hence the nose ring; I needed some ruse to look crazy. And it wasn’t actually a ring, more like a microscopic gold stud. It looked more like glitter on my nose. Continue Reading »

There are two kinds of hairdressers – those who do what you want … and those who don’t.

Hairdressers are artists, and a good beautician is one who makes you happy. You may not like their dress sense, you may not like their attitude, you may not even like their name.

You may not like the way they yank your head back and forth, or the way they talk about clients, or how they patronise you and your salon-mates, or their dismissive tone when they tell your sister ‘Please stop distracting her, I’m trying to work here’ [and swiftly banish said sister to the corner with a two-year-old Cosmo right in the middle of some juicy family gossip].

But when they are finished with your hair, you will be grinning ear to ear.

Now, salon-ing, like all other arts, requires talent. Some coiffeurs have it naturally, others learn by aping, others went to Pivot Point, others plaited grass, bought a blow-drier and rented a room.

But the true hair expert is the one that can think. They can look at your head and decide what suits it best. And even better, they can take your ridiculous suggestion, tweak it here and there, and make it work. Continue Reading »

I know of two definitions for the word spoof. One tastes like soap, and the other is really, really funny. But now there’s a third one, and it induces neither cleanliness nor mirth.

I rarely check my spam folder, but lately I’ve noticed it has mails from ‘me’. I didn’t pay much attention, since lots of people sign their mails with ‘Love, me’, including, well, me!

But I got curious today and clicked on one of the me-mails. In the From box, it had my own address! How weird is that?

I immediately went into panic mode thinking my account had been hacked and that I needed to change my password. A depressing thought in itself because I have fifteen fairly complicated ones an it’s all I can do to keep them straight in my head! Continue Reading »

I am not known for having a particularly thick skin, but there are two things that rile me more than anything else: punctuality and spelling. Attack these two and I will likely pout for a week.

Granted, ever since I started writing online, my spelling has gone to the … well … let’s just it stands to improve. Something about working online just seems to multiply the typos. That, and I hardly ever use the spell checkers. But I always scored full marks in my spelling tests at school, so I still get mad if someone corrects work I’ve done.

Time-keeping is another pet peeve. I used to be the kind of girl who carried a book everywhere, you know, just in case I had to wait for anything. I still carry a novel and notebook to most places, but only if it fits in my handbag. And these days, I’m far more likely to spend time on the queue daydreaming than reading.

That said, I have a hard time sitting still. Really. Ask me to wait five minutes to see someone, and I’ll more likely take a lap and come back later. And since I’m very good at finding things to do, the laps generally take longer than expected. Case in point.

I was to meet my uncle at his office at 10. But he got stuck in traffic, so he pushed the meeting to 11. Now, I was already in his neighbourhood, so the logical thing would have been to find a bench, grab my book, and read for an hour or so. Continue Reading »

Fashion is an interesting thing. Being a girl, I know that an item can look perfectly good in my home mirror, then look ridiculous once I’m out on the street. Lots of times I’ve walked past those reflective windows at the bank, snuck a peek at myself, and wondered what possessed me to leave the house looking like that.

And it can’t be entirely blamed on the glass distortion factor.

An issue that bothers girls a lot is the hitching skirt. You leave the house in a pretty little dress that sits nicely on your knees. Then you get into a matatu and realise that when you sit, the skirt rides uncomfortably high. You then look for anything from handbags to scarfs to newspapers to protect the bare … um … legs. The rest of the day is spent in relative discomfort trying to pull your stray skirt down, while ‘people’ laugh and tease your false modesty. After all, they say, you knew how short the skirt was when you wore it.

Except you didn’t. Really. Continue Reading »

I heard that quote on Isidingo, and it got me thinking. At the end of the day, despite feminism, liberalism, and all the other -isms, the average man still prefers to catch his own meat. Never mind that once they catch it, they take a bite, get bored, and look for new prey. As one man said on Nini’s show, “It’s like a dog chasing a cat. What does it do with it once it catches it?”

The thrill, apparently, is in the chase. So, logically, if you want to keep enjoying the attention, chocolate, late night calls and general adoration, well girls, don’t get caught. Which goes back to playing hard to get. This is a classic case of FCT – Fox Chasing Tail.

Now mind you, here I refer to the average man. There are a few men out there who don’t mind having girls chase them. And there a lots of above-average women who are actually willing to chase! But until we can consistently get these exceptional people in the same time frame, we have to play by everyone else’s (average) rules. Guys chase, gilrs run, guys catch girls, guys get bored and chase other girls. Continue Reading »

The groom and his family has it only slightly easier when it comes to wedding preparations. For one thing, they have to pay dowry. And for another, they have to sponsor the religious ceremony and the reception.

The actual wedding is done at a church, mosque, or government office, followed by a photo session. Wedding ceremonies are usually performed after midday, while the late afternoon is dedicated to photos, leaving the evening free for the wedding reception, which is also hosted by the man’s family, and also comes with the champagne, speeches, and wedding cake. And gifts.

Generally, the budget for a marriage is met by … the guests. When an acquaintance is getting married, they will give you a wedding invitation. If your friend is the groom, you will receive a invite to the wedding and reception, while friends of the bride will receive invites to the Kitchen Party and Send-off.

The card requests that you contribute towards the cost of the wedding, and sometimes [but not always] suggests the minimum amount that you are expected to contribute. This figure is decided during vikao – wedding committee meetings where the budget and other matters are decided. As a general rule, if you do not meet the minimum contribution, you may not attend the festivities.

Contributing to the cost, however, does not exempt you from bringing gifts. Continue Reading »

I should clarify that I am not married.

And I should explain a little something about Tanzanian weddings. They’re not like the ones at home.

The typical +255 wedding comes in four parts. There are two ceremonies hosted by the bride’s family, and two ceremonies hosted by the groom’s family.

The first ceremony is the Kitchen Party, hosted by the bride and her people. It is an evening party, and is generally a strictly-girls affair, so in areas like Dar that are predominantly Muslim, the ladies have a chance to let down their hair … and other things.

The only male at this ceremony is the DJ and the cameraman. I can only imagine they enjoy the view, because even I was busy drooling at females whom I had only ever seen in amorphous black, and I’m a girl!

During the Kitchen Party, there is usually an MC-slash-shenga who teaches the bride [and her cohorts] how to take care of a man. The advise is sometimes quite benign, but more often, painfully raunchy.

The playlist consists largely of  taarab, and at several points, the ladies will get on the dance floor and perform renditions of mduara, usually with the help of pillars and chairs.

The trauma! Continue Reading »

A few days later, I noticed that my face was burnt out again. Groan. I went back to the shop and bought Himalaya Neem wash, because, well, the cream wash was finished, and the Neem wash is for all skin types, so that seemed like a much safer option until I figured out what exactly was what.

I had re-used the for-oily-skin gel wash because it was in a pretty bottle, felt deliciously cool on my skin, smelt fabulous … and because I wasn’t about to throw out a perfectly good tube of facial wash. My reasoning was ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’

I used it one morning, just once. By lunch time, my face was stinging and ’sunburnt’. It took me a week of mild exfoliant and soothing Neem wash to get rid of the burn effect.

Yeah, I’m not ever trying that again.

Then I went a-googling and found out a few things. Apparently, getting burnt by clay masks is more common than you’d think. Yahoo answers claimed it was a sign of allergy, at which point I decided that I have sensitive skin, since I am ‘allergic’ to mud masks and cinammon exfoliant, and since my skin is shiny and  patchy, and is both dry and sticky after cleansing. Continue Reading »

So, a few months ago, when I bought my first ever facial products, I went with Himalaya oily skin products. And that worked just fine for a few days, until my face broke out in what looked like sunburn. A week later, when I tried my first home facial, my skin burnt so intensely that I was tempted to smother myself with a pillow, just to stop the stinging.

I decided, based on the burning, that perhaps my skin is dry. After all, I had had a facial once, for an interview at KQ, and the lady insisted my skin was dry. I ignored her of course, on account of being so shiny.

However, I am a bit of a DIY fanatic, so I laid off the toner and bought some Himalaya dry skin products. That seems to work fine. The cream wash is gentler on my skin, even though it smells annoyingly flowery and tastes like pins.

The for-dry-skin fruit mask stung, but it stung considerably less than the mud mask. So I stuck to milk masks and exfoliated the burned areas every two days, and that seemed to help. For about a month, my skin looked and felt great. Continue Reading »