Pray for me

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There is always a temptation of pursuing something that you truly know will result into negative repercussions. On most occasions the power to surrender to that temptation is largely dominant. You ask yourself- why not try something new? After all it might turn out to be adventurous. The truth is uglier that the thought of adventure. Some of us are strongly instinctual beings who with just an instinct, will develop a strong conviction that if you give in to that temptation you’ll regret it. So because you need to see the hidden side that a small portion of your mind considers adventurous, you go on and do it. It has happened to us all, landing us into incredibly terrible trouble.

It is definitely a very hard decision for a man to make- changing a barber. It is a choice that he may not even wish to listen to, or even have. Under normal circumstances, a man has one barber he is loyal to. His hair is married to this barber and only he is allowed to play around with his head and beard. Beyond that no man is allowed to even touch him. Maybe the head, but beard, never. The girls at the barbershop also feature in this loyalty. They have studied this man for long and they only can touch him on spots that other girls cannot find when doing a head and neck massage. They have learnt the language of his skin and how it should be treated, with nobility and rare but tender care.

A man understands that only in this barbershop that he can let his head free and still get it back in one piece, better than it went in. So he does not have any speculations of any ulterior cuts that an apprentice barber somewhere might want to sketch on his head. He trusts this one place, one barber and specific girls. Even if there are two barbers in that shop and he goes there and his specific barber is off, the other one cannot touch him. The right man has to be there.

Even if the barber went to shags, he will walk around with his unkempt hair waiting for his glorious warrior to return. That is loyalty. That is why men can walk from one end to another to just locate a specific barber. If he moves they will still follow him, unless he moved a considerable measure of distance that cannot be conquered.

Of late I haven’t honored that loyalty to my barber, one Tito in Karatina Town. He and his fellow, King’uku run this Executive Barber shop. I get a nice cut with just 200 bob once in two weeks. But I do a few touches on a weekly basis for just 50 bob. Four years now.

Also read: Resolutions 2017

A buddy of mine hinted that he would do an amazing job on my head. Well, it takes close to half an hour to get my head and beard done. I usually cause a jam. Thanks to my barber because he never complains, furthermore I bring some friends along in order to promote his amazing job. And that is the reward I get- a nice, executive cut.

This buddy insisted that he was up to the task. He is a plot mate so I decided to give him benefit of doubt. The look in his eyes betrayed him- easy science for me, but I never tell them the interpretation. He set to work on me in the hope that if he gets it right, he can save me trolling to town every week- it is exhausting. Plus he could charge me a fair price. Once I gave him a cut and it turned out that I’m good at it.

In the end he spoiled the shape of the style. He admitted that he has never handled such a style and that he didn’t get it all right. Being a man who hardly gets mad, furthermore I had a choice to decline his offer, I just put up with it. But I knew that the next time I visit my barber I better have a good excuse. He was disappointed by the way I was looking but rated my buddy six in a scale of ten. Five and above is commendable.

He got into his job and resuscitated that hairstyle and restored my confidence. If there is one prerequisite you need in this life it is confidence. With it you can do marvelously in anything you do. I thanked him heavily.

Well, there has been some minor ailment cobliterating- eating would sound better- my hair. So it has cleared some hair and left a balding patch on the back left of my head. Since I discovered that, my life has become largely a conundrum, a nightmare. The thing has been creeping into my head and conquering more territory, getting me worried. I resorted to enslave myself to caps and marvins because my barber hinted that it would ebb in a month’s time- something I think he lied about. I hate liars.

I recently sort professional help upon informing my dad- so that he never declares that I never informed him of any ailment in case something happens later. I look for a dermatologist as advised by one chemist. In this small town that is a rare word. They don’t have any. So this one doctor friend advises me to visit a bigger health facility. Karatina District Hospital is the first place I land after that. The doctors’ strike might have affected the facility a lot because there was no hubbub of activity in there.

The only dermatologist here was on maternal leave and that implied going to Nyeri. It is the nearest town with another dermatologist. But I opt to branch to Jamii Hospital on my way home just to hear their side. They do not have one either. But since it is a private hospital, they need money to survive, so they will capitalize on any patient and wring them to cough out all their money.

That is how I found myself in front of a doctor.  A middle aged Dr. Wairimu or something close. A warm lady with etiquette and positive attitude. She looks at my scar and tells me what it is. Some skin infection, I don’t recall the name. She recommends some meds, after which I will have to go back to see her after they are over. I’m eager- she’s hot.

But using these meds I needed to shave my hair. The hair I have reared for almost two years, it had to go down. The positioning of the infection is so un-strategic that I would not have avoided it and leave some hair. And again I took another risk and trusted my buddy with my hair. He messed big time leaving some funny hair on top of my head- like a cock’s crown.

I checked into my barber’s shop and this time he was shocked. The mess would only be rectified by clearing off all the hair on my head. Something I did last during my hey days in school. I could feel that Philips monster empty my head. It was raging and unforgiving. I have never been scared in my life like I was- well my head has a shape that requires hair on it for me to look human. But now here I was, my head raped. Its nakedness frightening rather than appealing.

Okay, my barber said I look awesome. I doubt the mirror he was seeing me through because what was right in front of me had no relation to that statement. Deep inside I comforted myself that it will grow over time.

He was about to trim my beard. I could not lose both. I would resemble a baby’s butt. Something I don’t embrace, it will only make me sympathetic. So now I got a wild beard that has not seen a blade for a month. It is the only leverage I got.

Meanwhile I’m hard on these drugs. It has been my prayer that my infection will soon be a past- I still got a month full of meds ahead of me. I need those prayers gang, I truly need them. I’m surviving on caps. My head is in hiding.

I wonder what I would do the day I’ll go to church because they do not allow caps there, or the day I’ll be donning a suit- it doesn’t go with caps. I fear that day…



Sorry last week I did not write a thing. I was moving from one health facility to another looking for someone who knows about things that eat human hair. I was restless.

I do brief and humorous writs my Fb timeline twice or thrice a week, I know you’ll be delighted reading them. They are more enthralling. Check them out and send me a friend request Mzangila Snr.

Let’s hook up next Wednesday. Cheers

Mzangila Empire.

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About Mzangila

Mentor, media consultant, photographer, editor, poet, writer, and counselor.

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