The Merriam Webster describes ‘beautiful’ as having qualities of beauty, generally pleasing, excellent. Early chilly Thursday morning she decided a purple pull neck, ebony black skirt and black flats would do the trick for the day. Before I get all excited and jump the gun, lets talk about the hair. African hair!
She is not one of those that are invested into the hair business. You know, one of those that are into all the necessary different oils; some for length, others for volume, then there is strength and the list is honestly endless.
Is it plaited? Yes. Cool, we wait till we undo it and plait again. This is who she is. Having shaved all her life till she was done with high school, she knows little if any at all with regards to what it means to take care of hair. The best she can do is alternate braiding with use of head turbans and when the journey gets rocky and too bumpy, back to default setting (shave).
Against all odds she sat up Wednesday night to do what she would under no circumstance do. She unfavorably flexed and extended her neck muscles as she tried to ‘take care’ of her hair for once. She persevered the myalgia and burnt the midnight oil as she worked on bantu knotes. Mark you she even had to google what these are. Compared and contrasted several images to see what would fit her head.
At 7.07Am she reluctantly kicked away the blanket and was slapped by the unfriendly cold. She was to be in ward 5A by 7:30Am, latest 8Am. The head was the last audience to be addressed. She undid the bantu knotes, combed it and came up with this…
She looked herself in the mirror behind the door. She exclaimed, “Wow! we’ve done it girl! For your first time this is more than excellent. Infact A+.” She turned left, right, centre moved the head up, down, side by side and she was indeed pleased with the work of her hands. Lab coat on, she matched out. But promptly stopped in her steps to confirm her beauty with the bathroom mirror. Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the…
It picked an error she had overlooked. She tried correcting it then went to confirm with human eyes ( a friend was cleaning her utensils in the sinks). She affirmed all was in order. Happy as a crying baby given candy she flew out of the hostel, confidence levels sky rocketing, face covered in smiles, heart gladdened and at peace. ‘I am beautiful’ is all that rang in her head sub-consciously.
Dancing in her heart she approached the hospital entrance. A head, on her right she recognized 2 male 6th year students. Being neither her acquaintances nor allies, she just but glanced at them and perpetuated with her happy journey. No sooner had she passed by them than she had one of them comment “Leo ni Team Rogue?” What followed was a haughty laugh by both of them.
“Are they laughing at me?” was what commenced flooding her mind instantaneously. Not too long later she unfortunately concluded it had to be her, for there was no one else around the vicinity at that particular moment. Getting into the hospital the phrase ‘team rogue‘ tortured her.
“Why rogue?”
“Do I look that horrible?”
“Does my hair look that bad?”
And the questions were endless. Busy in the ward, the self-torture took a medical-commercial break. No sooner had she stepped out of the hospital than the same questions came flooding back seeking answers. She walked back to the hostel conversing with herself like a mad woman. Just audibly reiterating the statement ‘team rogue’. Praise to the invention of face masks for they concealed her craziness.
She immediately got into the hostel washrooms to confirm just how rogue she was. At first glance she thought she was beautiful. On second thought she figured she looked just fine. On microscopic examination, she concurred with their diagnosis. TeAm RoGuE it is indeed. She left the washroom sad and dejected.
Re-examination with her door mirror further arrived at their diagnosis. At this moment she thought of herself as stupid and ugly. Her moods were sinking further into the abyss. Having a dentist appointment, before stepping out, she changed her look to this…
She replaced the lab coat with a black winter coat, put on her black pair of gloves and headed to dental school. The turban was ‘anti-rogue’, she was ‘fine’, she fit into what was okay with everyone but she was unhappy deep down. She loves turbans but at this particular moment her heart was in turmoil. Why?
She had it on for others and not for her. She had it on to fit in. It was not her choice. It was someone else’s choice but implemented by her and hence she reaped the consequences ~ unhappiness.
Priyanka Chopra Jonas in one of her interviews once said
“ There is no way in the world you’ll be able to please everyone. Someone will always have a problem!”
Day in day out we struggle with a myriad of issues. Cheers to us who struggle with self-image issues. To us who struggle with pimples wishing we were a bit smoother and fairer. To us who struggle with pot-bellies, in constant agony for those abs and flat tummies. To us who wonder whether we are of the right weight. To us who wish we were a few inches taller or a few inches shorter. To us who feel we were not endowed with enough assets. To us who feel we have a bonus of the melanin and to us who feel we have a deficit of the same. Cheers to us!
Genesis 1:27
So God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.
Rejoice ye, for ye are made in His own image. God is not man that He should lie. He indeed created us in His own image. If for this alone ,be happy in your own skin. Be happy TeAm RoGuE!
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