Locs Saved My Time

#Locs #LocJourney #BlackHair

My natural hair before the transition to locs

Growing up in South Africa, I have borne the brunt of constant scrutiny and comments all my life, especially as a child who was known for having an extremely soft Afro. This is something that defined me. However, at some point, much like everyone around me, I started obsessing with length and YouTube kept recommending all sorts of food to put in my hair. The thought of it got tiring so I kept cutting my hair little by little. I eventually got to a point where I tried convincing myself that I was cutting my split ends when I didn't even know what split ends were supposed to look like. The power of social media. Eventually, a video about locs (known derogatorily as dreadlocks) made its way to my algorithm.

On YouTube, locs were seen differently in comparison to my observations in South Africa. On YouTube, they were beautiful, clean, neat, and an aesthetic of some sort. On Twitter and Instagram, girls with locs were praised and associated with deep spirituality, sage, and everything Erykah Badu. They were nature’s finest masterpieces. In South Africa, it was a different case altogether. It was a death sentence. If you do not want them anymore, you cut all your hair off. To me, this was a nightmare. I had always been known for having healthy and soft beautiful hair. It was a part of me that I was not ready to let go of and it was a part of me that a lot of people, mainly strangers, admired. Locs were seen as dirty where I was from. It was a hairstyle that was associated with traditional healers and Sangomas, who were also connoted as dirty individuals. As I grew older, this proved to be as far from the truth as possible. Social media unlocked a new world for me and I found myself scrolling for 3 hours watching people’s loc journeys, locking process, and combing out process. I did not think combing locs out was an option or that it was even possible but it turns out that all you need is a spray water bottle, lots of conditioner, and a rat tail comb.

"I'm definitely going to get dreadlocks,” I told myself. For two weeks, all I saw wherever I walked were people with long, healthy, and luscious locs. I even subscribed to @THEREALCHOLEY on YouTube. I was in awe. Besides, I was tired of combing my hair, spending a lot of money every three months on a new hairstyle, and having to spend hours in front of the mirror just to open one straight line from front to back just for pigtails.

I remember the walk my boyfriend and I took to the Rastafarians who stood by the pavement and did people’s hair out in the open. I was nervous. Was I going to look like one of those spiritual girlies on social media? I wasn’t into astrology or whatever journey they were on. My beliefs were not going to be compromised by my hair. I knew where I stood with God so I was good. They were loudly blasting what sounded like Jamaican or Caribbean music. The vibes were immaculate. My boyfriend felt at home as this was his forte. I described what I wanted to one of the locticians. He happily obliged. Most of his locks were tucked into a long black beanie. ‘Where do they get those?’ I asked myself. “I’ve had my locs for eleven years.” I looked at him in shock. “They are down my back. Almost at hip length.” This was fascinating to me. I started thinking about how that can be restrictive especially when it comes to styling. I felt the crochet needle tangle sections of my hair. It was not painful but it was firm. I touched the first one as soon as he was done. I looked at my boyfriend with approval. I was really doing this.

After about four hours, I was done. I was happy with the result. My locs were stiff but they were locs. “Wash your hair with dishwashing soap, not shampoo. Shampoos have harmful chemicals. Also, make sure that you get your hair redone after a few months because there’ll be a lot of growth. Based on my observation, your hair grows fast. It should be bra strap length in Year 2.” I took a mental note. I left the streets of Yeoville feeling like a new person. Who was I going to be now that I am no longer the girl with a beautiful Afro?

“Rasta!” Some man across the street shouted at me. I looked at my boyfriend in confusion. He chuckled, “I guess that’s who you’ll be known as.”

1 year and 3 months into my loc journey.

When I went back on YouTube, there were discourses and think pieces people wrote about how instant locs and using loc extensions were cheating the loc process. What I did not understand was why these people failed to understand that people get locs for different reasons and that there are a variety of methods used to start them. If they were not meant to be used, they simply would not exist. I learned that these methods consisted of interlocking, coiling, two-strand and three-strand twists, crochet, matting, and freeform. My loc journey may have been a quick and easy one but it does not mean any less than if I had gotten twists, interlocked, or coiled my hair simply because the hair takes longer to lock and takes time to mature. It is a valid transition just like anyone’s. It is the best choice I have made for myself and I couldn’t be happier.