Wow. I don’t even know how to describe my week.
After all the anxiety, sarcasm, uncertainty, and everything that comes along with it, I final went for my American Visa interview.
No matter what happened at that interview, I was ready to blame the outcome on my hair. But all these came to a stop when my number was randomly allocated to a cute black American, who… had natural hair.
Immediately, my number appeared above her till, I smiled at her in confidence, with a smile that said, “you know we are sisters, and we both have natural hair. So tell me the truth, you can’t deny this girl right in front of you an opportunity you great grandfathers got some centuries back. Can you?
She didn’t smile back!
All I heard in an accent I strained hard to decipher was “What is your purpose for choosing to visit the United States.”
She was so curt and official that her tone took me off guard. My smile immediately vanished, and I knew it was time for serious business. There was no room for manipulation. Natural hair affinity or not. The hair on my head might as well be mop threads on a long stick for all she cared.
I stated my reason as vacation with friend. She asked if I had ever travelled before, and how long I had worked, and other questions which already had their answers in my application. Lastly, she confirmed that I was single which I affirmed, though I almost told her that I would stop being single soon, because I am sure my boyfriend would propose soon. She probably would have eyed me, and denied me the visa immediately…
Which wouldn’t have mattered because eventually…
I was denied!
Yes, my first ever attempt of applying for any visa of any sort. I was denied! I don’t even know who sent me message because I never wanted to apply in the first place. The interviewer wasn’t even remorseful or sad about it. After all my smiles, our common race, our natural hair kindred factor, all I got was a straight blank face, and lips that said I should try again next time, and I had no right to appeal. Kaiiii.
Ha? What of my family? My career? My lovely Dimeji? Were they not ties enough? Would I leave them all, and run out of the country?
When I asked her how I could develop stronger ties to my own country so my application could be successful next time, she asked me to go and work longer. I’m sure she knew I was just lingering to ask those questions because of the pain of rejection which I wanted to quell, but it did not change her body language.
Oh well, no one would say I didn’t try sha. We can’t win all the time. Tonya would have to wait. Maybe I would try again in 5 years time, when I am married to my Dimeji, with twins. Let’s now see then if some black American naturalista would tell me I don’t have strong enough ties to my own country.