The hair straightener fell out of the Ewe girl-with-the-bushy-hair's hands for the umpteenth time that minute. This is so scary, I thought whilst she bent over to grab the hair straightener from the ground.

Earlier that evening my mother and I walked into the salon closely followed by my two-year old niece. I noticed how the place had changed since the last time I stepped in here. Miss Rockie had put up several posters with different hairstyles on them, added a few shelves and tiled the floor. I remembered the first time Miss Rockie did my hair; under a tree on a small piece of land. Now she made a tiny indoor space to do people's hair.

When I was done looking around I noticed a customer sitting down. She was slim, tall, with dark brown eyes just like mine. Her hair was all messed up. I could understand with her hair being natural. I didnt have that kind of problem with my hair, though. I always braid it to make it look neat and to make it curly too. Seeing my mother and i she shot tight up. That was when i realized the was an apprentice. Damn. That's bad news.I never really liked apprentice hairdressers. They never do the job right.

I have encountered people who acted like my hair was the wiredest thing in the world. They touched it as if it would pounce at them and bite. Some where too stingy with the hair products and say Natural hair aborbes much conditioner, oils, leave-in, etc. Well who are they saving them for anyway, their dogs? So to avoid those dumb situations I treat my hair at home.

Greeting her I sat down and started loosen the messy braids I did for myself two days ago when I was starteled by the voice of my mother.

"I want to do my hair first", she demanded kinda sounding like a kid.

"Please", I innocently say whilst looking at her with puppy eyes.

"Nana, I want my hair done first!" With the tone she used I knew I was officially defeated."

Miss Rockie started to to stretch out her hair using the hair straightener whilst I was on wattpad reading. She and my mom caught up with their gossip and Miss Rockie uttered a few Ewe words, which sounded like pure gibberish to me (because I am Bono and dont know how to speak Ewe, unlike my mom who is multi-lingual. She can speak almost all the nine Ghanaian languages which are studied in school out of 47. I only know his to speak Twi, pronounced tree, the major one, and not perfectly, I may add) to her assistant.

After my mother's hair was stretched out it was my turn. But Miss Rockie wasnt going do my hair. She let the Ewe-girl-with-the-bushy-hair do it for me.

Miserably, I got up and occupied the space that was filled by my mother not too long ago. The Ewe apprentice loosened my messed up braids and turned on the hair straightener while I braced myself for impact.

The impending moment was put to a halt when the Ewe-girl-with-the-bushy-hair dropped the hair straightener to the ground. Clumsy girl, I thought. Without further ado, she picked up the hair straightener. I didn't need to look at her face to know there was a hint of embarrassment on it.

As the dangerously handled item had finally got hold of my precious hair, I slowly parted my Labium Superioris from my Labium inferioris to let in any flies who cared to take a tour in my mouth out of shock. It was like a thunderstorm in my head, the pain was unbearable. I may be a strong black woman but strength also has its limit. I tried to get my mother's attention with my eyes. Apparently, dear Mother had been lured into a conversation, which I had no clue about, with the main hairdresser and surely had no idea a distress signal was being sent to her.

My hair was felt like it was being pulled out with every comb and I soon began to wonder how my hair was going to be braided if I didn't have much left on my head. Knowing I was defeated by this deadly apparatus, all I could do was wait for the torture to end.

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I let out a sigh of relief when the pro hairdresser was done uprooting my strands. As if by reflex, my hands went up my hair. I felt its normal thickness so I certainly was not bald but I still had to make sure I didn't lose much hair. I made a beeline to the afro comb used for the inhuman activity not long ago. I couldn't believe my eyes...
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Only one removed strand! I must have macho hair if only one strand was unfortunate.
I just wish I could say the same for the come. Its life would never be the same. Too bad I don't have a before or after picture of it. Oh well, I still have evidence of the attempted deforestation that I can show to the hair police.

As soon as my mom's hair was done Miss Rockie signaled me to come over. That was a very blissful moment because I knew my hair was going to be in safe hands and it was all worth it in the end.