Boma is over two years old now, and she has lovely natural hair. Thankfully, my sister did not relax her hair, as she once threatened to, as if Boma were my daughter. We have also said goodbye to tight extensions on the little girl’s hair, after so much harassment from my part. I don’t care what my sister does to her own hair, but I just can’t sit down and watch the not-so-innocent little girl suffer, due to her mother’s ignorance. What would that say of me, being her aunt?
And so, I have been flaunting my niece up and down so much, and taking all the accolades for her hair. After all, I have to reap the reward of my labour.
My sister begged me to come over to her house last weekend, and help out with her house chores. After some time, she said we should all go to the shopping mall to get some things. I declined, and said Boma and I would rather stay home instead. She said we had to all go, because Boma’s feet is fast growing, and she won’t be travelling any time soon to get new pairs of shoes.
“Okay then. Go with her, I will wait here for you.” I was willing to do anything to avoid going shopping with my sister. She can be an annoying big sister.
“But Boma wants you to come.”
“Huh? She does? She hasn’t said anything like that.”
“Yes, she does. Don’t you?” She turned to ask manipulate Boma.
“Auntie Anna, please come, please come.” She said with that voice she used to get people to melt. Boma is a monster at times, and I know her ways, yet her voice just has that inexplicable effect on me.
After so much cajoling, I finally succumbed to their ways. We got to the mall, and I walked with Boma’s hands in mine, as my sister strutted child-free. She sure enjoyed the stares, as she looked very hawt and young for her age. When we got to the mother care section, and there were no longer men to drool, attention turned to Boma and her hair, which was in a gigantic afro puff I had styled. People looked at her, and smiled at both of us, obviously assuming I was her mum, since we both have natural hair. My sister traced the stares, and gave me that you-must-be-feeling-cool-about-natural-hair look.
My sister got three pairs of new shoes for Boma, after testing them on Boma. We proceeded to the counter, and my sister queued to pay, while I stood not so far from her.
A woman approached me. “Wow, you daughter has such a lovely hair.”
“Thank you.” I said after a little hesitation. My sister had heard the conversation, and I felt it was time to spite her for her antics.
“You must take so much time caring for it.” the woman continued.
“We can only try our best. As mothers, the health of our hair and children’s hair is paramount.” I increased my voice so my sister could hear clearly.
“I’m always impressed with women who take time to nurture their kid’s hair. Many women these days are relaxing their children’s hair, in order to take a short cut. It is really sad.”
“Trueeee.” I rolled my eyes at my sister.
“I have three sons, but if I had a daughter, I would want her to have lovely hair, just like your daughter’s.”
“Aww, thanks for the compliment.” My sister was eyeing me by now, as she finished paying for her goods.
We walked out of the store, and she sharply grabbed her daughter from me, and passed me the carrier bag.
“If you want to take glory for my daughter’s hair, no way.” She said.
“Ehm, I thought you said her natural hair stresses you, and you can’t wait to relax it.” I taunted, feeling amused.
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