“After about six months and two weeks of pregnancy, she fell ill and was taken to hospital where she miscarried. Then it was discovered that she had administered some concoctions which affected the baby.”
Lilly Loveless pointed to a colourful butterfly that had just landed on Britney’s knee, now crossed over the other. Superstitious, Britney shooed it away and continued.
“Rebecca’s and Richie’s names were headline news in local newspapers, including The Talking Drum. Then she was forced to change colleges, because she could not bear the way friends and others in the community would burn her with their eyes.
“Distance and problems have made the relationship between Richie and Rebecca drift apart and peter out. She is still struggling to pass her O Level GCE, but she refuses to give up on the ‘high classes which Richie brought out in her.”
Lilly Loveless lifted her head and took in the variety of flowers around them. There was a lone student or couple that wandered by from time to time on one of the crisscrossing paths through the gardens. Lilly Loveless wondered about their stories, and resolved to dig up as much as possible from the stacks of newspapers and magazines in the Archives, with the assistance of Prince Anointed. A strange thought crossed her mind: What would a married woman do with flowers offered her by a secret lover at a secret meeting place like this? Take them home? No way! Dump them somewhere in the nearby bushes? More like it. She smiled. Marriage and formal relationships do take their toll on a woman’s freedom to express and explore her sexuality and happiness, don’t they? This was not the time to ask Britney for an opinion, but she would have to one of these days, as it was part of her work to understand the cultural dimensions of sex, power and consumerism in Mimboland.
As she prepared to ask Britney if she knew the name of one of the particularly beautiful orange flowers, Britney started sharing her third interview. She continued to fill the ears of Lilly Loveless who in turn filled her notebook, as butterflies celebrated their presence in the company of the singing birds in the trees.
Lulu was as pretty as the hair she made. Her salon – Lulu Coiffure – was the most popular in the whole of Puttkamerstown. The words ‘A Woman’s Hair Is Her Crowning Glory’ were boldly inscribed on a beautiful signboard of a lovely variety of hairdos eloquently captured by the artist who designed it.
It was to Lulu that Britney sent Lilly Loveless when the latter decided she needed to revamp her looks by braiding her hair.
Lulu was as artful a braider as she was with other hairdos. She insisted in handling Lilly Loveless herself, while her three apprentices attended to other clients. Lilly Loveless took pleasure in knowing her curls would soon be transformed into lovely braids. She watched cars, motorbikes or bendskins, bicycles and people on foot headed to and from the market pass by in front of the open salon door. And she checked Lulu’s progress occasionally in the mirror.
“Is it to keep the humidity off your equipment?” she asked, indicating the metal box where Lulu kept her combs and scissors.
“Na for steriliz-am, whiteman-woman. Man no di know,” replied Lulu assuredly.
Lilly Loveless’s pidgin was not the best despite the intensive lessons she continued to take, but she understood what Lulu said, although she couldn’t figure out why Lulu kept calling her ‘whiteman-woman’, as if she didn’t know her name or felt that a white woman needs a man to be visible. She refused to make an issue of it, but made a mental note in the interest of her research. She noticed the electrical cord hanging from the box, in a dusty loop against the wall.
“A sterilizer that needs to be plugged in just a couple of times a year,” she said, half question, half trying to convince herself, nodding her head saying, “I see.”
“Wheti you see?”
Lilly Loveless ignored the question by asking her own. “What do women say is the reason why they come to do their hair?”
“Foseeka I be the best for Puttkamerstown.”
“I know you are the best. But what other reasons bring them here?”
“They fit congosai for here as they like, no one day I go open my mop tell some man.”
“I mean, why do women do their hair?”
“Dat you question foolish plenty. Why you di chop?”
After making Lilly Loveless look stupid, Lulu proceeded to tell her that although some silly men believe that women do their hair in order to be “like a web to trap every male heart”, the simple truth is that “a woman’s beauty lies in her hair”, and women are beautiful first and foremost for themselves and for fellow women. If a woman spends half of her time in front of a mirror or at the hairdresser’s to do her hair, no man but her deserves to take the credit for that. Lulu was adamant. Hair engineers like her are there to accentuate a woman’s beauty with magical results, make her feel good within herself and to other women, and if this flatters men in the process, it is most certainly by accident, and not cause for celebration. Their duty is and remains to make women feel confident and beautiful for their own pleasure and to take pride in their outward appearance. Until men start seeing with the eyes of their hearts and feeling with their minds, would they understand that the world is larger and richer than that which their manhood is able to erect? Doing hair, to women, is really more about being comfortable, not about being sexy. She then told Lilly Loveless why Mimbo women like long hair. She said long hair adds beauty. For Mimbo women who cannot have very long hair like that of Muzungu women, and who admire very long hair, the alternative is to turn to artificial hair to meet this desire. As a hairdresser, it is her duty to advise her clients that some ‘beautiful’ styles can only be possible with long or thick hair, and to encourage women with short or sparse hair to go for artificial hair, which helps in giving them the hair style they want.
“What causes short or scanty hair?” Lilly Loveless asked.
Lulu explained that sparsely populated hair could be genetic, but it could also result from constant application of chemical products damaging to the hair roots. Again, very cold weather causes hair breakage, and makes the hair fall off. These mishaps make women very uneasy with their hair.
Satisfied with what she saw in the mirror, Lilly Loveless extended a few Mim dollars to Lulu, thanked her, and stopped a taxi for the Archives where Britney was waiting for her. Seated in the back on the passenger side she felt her derriere absorbing something that smelt fishy. She glided to the other side behind the driver to avoid the moisture and figured that her brown print tunic over brown jeans wouldn’t reveal whatever stains she may have picked up. That was what you got when taxis, for a few more Mim dollars, were indiscriminate between butchers transporting freshly slaughtered beef and normal passengers. She dismissed the thought that the wetness might just have come from a woman surprised by her period. She arrived at the Archives just after 11.00 am.
“Lovely Lilly,” exclaimed Prince Anointed when he saw her, “What lovely long braids you’ve got there! You look like an African princess.” He laughed his last laugh with his missing front teeth, as he had an appointment with a dentist shortly after, the first in 30 years, thanks to the generous gift of Mim$200,000 by Lilly Loveless.
Lilly Loveless could see Prince Anointed had an observant eye. She felt good with his compliment.
Overhearing the animated discussions, Britney closed her notebook and headed for the entrance to the Archives. She had promised to take Lilly Loveless to a nearby bar where they could