As a culture, they had alot of things but very a few things that defined them, and asides from the uniformed colour, the radiance of black skins-they had their hair. We. Had our hair.The natural afro textured black hair.It was in this fascination that they derived so much comfort in knowing they were different. We were black. But that wasnt always the case.My name is Jazz and this is my story. Was my story.Ever since I was a little girl, i was one of the girls thst gave my hair so much attention. Way much, I always had the comb in my back pocket to always keep it tidy. Tidy, like they taught us.Cos anything different was considered dirty. Rough. And it was easy to feel insecure. Very.Seeing the white celebrities and their blonde hair flowing with glory down their fabricated shoulders made my eyes beam with envy and that was not until i learned the importance of this black hair.And it was not until then, i decided I want
Last Updated : 2020-09-20
