THE WRETCHED WEAVE WATERLOO.

When Christina Jenkins, an African American woman from Cleveland, Ohio, invented the weave back in the fifties, she may have had no idea that she was putting into jeopardy the lives of all animals with the slightest fur (or hair) on them. Every inventor prays for their invention to become a viable business opportunity, a life changer..maybe even a blessing of sorts. Few, though, see a future where their invention will turn out to be a curse. Or they wouldn't pursue their ideas into fruition. Even Mikhail Kalashnikov, a Soviet General who invented the AK-47, once famously said his invention was a weapon of defense, not a weapon for offense. For diplomatic reasons, please say you believe the guy so we can move on. Pretend to know nothing about the arms race that came immediately after the 2nd world war, when the deadly rifle started its human population statistics correction. It was a weapon meant to pursue peace, not one to maim and kill.

Now Jenkins's invention has turned into something that most men dread, especially because in some instances, though still placed firmly on a lady's head, it is known to host all sorts of living organisms and wildlife. The last thing a man wants to see, especially during those intimate moments, is a live recording of The National Geographic Wild, live on his woman's head. You are cuddling her head, and out comes a mouse from under the weave. It's been there for that long. The weave has become such a good host of small animals because our ladies will put this thing on during the Easter season , and will only take it off a few days to Christmas for an even tighter one. So that for some ladies,  you can see the stained veins protruding from her skull, blood barely making it through. And they end up looking like that tired athlete who finished last on the marathon, meaning though equally tired, they may have toiled for nothing. Even the veins connecting the veins to the eyes are so strained that an otherwise healthy woman, now has to start donning sight correcting glasses .If young,this weave will add years to a woman's features and if old,it will slice off a few days.(If you look from behind).I have nothing personal against this thing and to prove it,let's just go over its pros and cons.

The Pros.

We may not spend much time here,for the pros are hard to come by.But we will try,because even the beauty magazines gave The Aborigines a chance on their cover picture.Only for them to beat a hasty retreat,to salvage the dwindling sales that resulted.Telling the difference between a weave and a wig is neither here nor there,but they are both placed,sown(read sowing crops,only this one is watered with sweat),or knit into place.How,i have no hope of knowing.But some guys apparently get paid for practicing tailoring on the heads of other humans.Kajairo wouldn't be where he is today,if it wasn't for the weave.But he is a comedian and most of our ladies aren't.Just because it catapulted him to fame doesn't mean its going to do the same for the local church choir leader.Plus he is gifted with brains and amazing oratory skills.I wish i could say the same about some of our other wearers.Its alright for all the woman's guild members to put on weaves(even uniform ones),but you know there is a problem when the youth leader takes it up too.

For any cheating woman,the weave is a necessary accessory.With all this technology around,you never know who could be following you.So always be sure to carry a spare one in your hand bag,if you are to succeed in the cheating field.Put the weave on and walk looking downwards,to avoid the cameras.This way,the only person who can tell that the Sunday school teacher has just walked into Dhambi Bar and lodgings(The local butcher will have checked in much earlier),will be yourself and God.For the weave does magic transformation on a woman and the hired private investigator will hand in their resignation letter first thing come Monday,citing double-vision and supernatural citings.

Shop lifters will not give it up any time soon for obvious reasons.Its the perfect place to hide lipstick and lip-gloss,assuming that's the stuff that glitters on our ladies lips,without raising the suspicions of the watchful supermarket attendant.Plus a lady can walk in,visit the washrooms,shop,then walk out totally a different person.And the attendant will not know who exactly the cameras picked up,hiding stuff in unmentionable places.

As i said,we may have to leave this section early,over lack of clear-cut advantages of the weave.But we can't leave without acknowledging the fact that it is not about to go away before the socialite takes a bow.If Vera is without fake hair,then the sun may have to set in the East,for the picture to be complete.And you can take it from me,that will not happen overnight.What is therefore required here mate, is patience.Lots of patience.

The Cons.

National holidays have been reduced into a weave contest.All the choirs in the stadium have the same head-gear,for they probably bought their weaves from the same source.And when the cameraman zooms their faces in,they all look like Mama Mboga,on her way to a church function.While there is nothing wrong with Mama Mboga's dressing,its how she exported her style to all her customers that's raising eyebrows.When normally it would have been the other way round.Some of these weaves are so shiny,the dignitaries have resorted to gracing these events spotting those large shades that hide the face,leaving journalists to only speculate on who is seated where.The most shiny ones,are rumored to be off horses.There is a time when a horse actually thought he could trust a man-a tragic mistake.For with the onset of the weave,the horse is now perennially on the run,from the racecourse and out.One false step,and the poor stallion is reduced into a heap of fur and hair.No prizes for guessing where the meat goes,because at this rate you are going to start asking about the donkey as well,and the whole of Naivasha will come looking for you.

Our ladies have found ways to emulate,not only the looks of their favorite soap stars,but also their movement.Now a lady from Nyandarua,will be perfect in the art of sweeping imaginary hair off her face,all because of the wig.She will then jerk her head backwards,to sweep her massive hair into place,as it pours down her shoulders,risking shoulder dislocation in the process,as she mutters,"Oishie!Hii nywele yaangu!".She is wearing at least two kilograms on her head,for these things are not as light as they look.Add to that the jewellery,the layers of make up and other additions and you will understand why our girls are always so tired and snappy.Beauty comes at a price.If only this was beauty,for the price is clearly heavy here.Its strange because tables have turned.Now the ladies with stunted,shrub-like hair,also have the 'longest hair',if we go by the entertainment writers assessment,on the snapshots gracing weekend newspaper pull-outs.

A guy will pick up company after a night out,totally mesmerized by their features,and will take them home for a one night stand.(Not that i encourage those,but Noah didn't encourage drowning too,yet people chose to drown). At exactly six in the morning,with the onset of natural light,this guy's neighbors will be awakened by his screams.For the woman sleeping next to him,is not the one he picked up and he can swear that on his grandma's grave.He picked up a Caucasian woman.Now snoring on his bed,sprawled like a wet painting, is this strange multi-colored Hottentot,who's face now looks like the military camouflage gear.The weave is resting neatly by the lamp stand beside the eyelashes.When she finally comes to,she screams too,and runs off to the bathroom carrying all her 'armory' of beauty products.She'll emerge half an hour later,looking like the Mona Lisa drawing,complete with the side bars.This transformation is puzzling and men don't know who to trust anymore.Or who to pick up.

The sight of drops of sweat slowly drooping from under the weave to the neck,is a complete turn-off,but men dare not say it out aloud.Especially if the lady is seated by the window of the matatu,and is ignoring all pleas to slide the window open.Woe onto you if you are a man in that situation,for any complaints will be met by accusations of improper sexual conduct.This is where a man will lose hands down,and alight two bus stops from his estate,and walk the rest of the distance,having ran out of cash and options.Keep your mouth shut and say nothing of the wig,if you are scared of hell fire and brimstone.Say nothing of the pieces of Raymond blanket that are hanging by this weave's threads.If you have to speak about it,please ensure you are speaking to yourself.If she turns to look at you,smile.Go a step further and pretend you can't tell the difference between a weave and natural hair,and complement her on the latter.She will still not open the window,but at least you will alight safe.If you own no 'stings' of your own,it makes sense to stay clear of the bee-hive.

The weave is a good addition.But at times,it makes sense to let your real self flourish and be celebrated.Kudos to the ladies who've resisted the notion that only skinny is beautiful.Because truth be told,they knew what they were talking about when they said,its to the beholder.Or something close to that.Now,before the fashion police come calling,its time i crawled back to my fashion less hole,hoping i won't trip over some wig/weave someone threw away,when it started melting black wax on their scalp.