OPINION | Here’s the thing about my hair choice: It's personal

I feel like what I chose to do with my hair on any given day is my choice and mine alone.

After all, the hair is on my head.

So, I'm a little baffled by all the politics people continue wanting to throw in the mix, and I'm certain I ain't the only one who feels this way.

We all lost our minds over the blatant, disgusting racism displayed in the recent Clicks advert, and things certainly got interesting there by woke Twitter.

In case you missed it, Clicks came under serious fire (literally) after the retailer put an ad on their website that most South Africans have interpreted as racist. The advert showed four images: two of black women’s hair described as “frizzy and dull” and “dry and damaged” against two images of a white woman's hair, described as “fine and flat” and  “normal”.

Somehow, the conversation found its way back to the "weave versus Afro" debate, swiftly followed by the “black women hate their hair and skin” brigade, who were clearly not looking to be outdone by the “but Clicks has a point, our hair is damaged and dry" squad.

We've had the Afro vs weave debate many times before, and unless you are Ntsiki Mazwai or part of her squad, we've generally concluded  people will do whatever the hell they want to do with their hair.

Personally, it is exhausting for me as a black woman with African hair because, essentially, I feel hair is too personal for each woman to be turned into politics.

This is why the “black women hate their hair and skin” brigade really bother me.

Why must I be dictated to when it comes to how I need to keep my hair?

Though each individual has different hair, we all also have different hair stories which  stop us from falling into a “uniform” approach about how we treat our hair.

Let me briefly explain my story.

At the moment, I have short, blonde hair. Yes, I said blonde. I dyed my hair. This was after I recently cut my glorious Afro hair, which I had had for a few years.

Before I started growing my Afro — which was well into my young adult life — I had long, straight, relaxed hair, which I loved. Before that I was part of the S-curl crew, and I've dabbled in perm life and many other different hairstyles along the way.

Like most young black women, the beginning of my hair journey sees a young me religiously going to the hair salon to have my hair relaxed, and then going back after a week of so to have it plaited.

My mother started this tradition after she stopped relaxing my hair at home.

Since then, I have had to take it upon myself to unlearn a few things about my hair, skin and identity as a young black female South African in these “woke” times.

However, in all debates, the one thing I prioritise above everything is freedom.

No-one is going to tell me not to wear my weave or relax my hair, to cut my hair or dye my hair. No-one is ever going to tell me to keep natural hair as a “condition” to be seen as black. I know who I am, whether I have a weave,  I'm bald or rocking my gravity defying Afro.

And so after that very crucial point, we can look  deeper into “what” about our hair should be turned into politics.

Off the top of my head, the products we use are multimillion-rand industries and their effects on the economy, ownership and actual representation of black people now pop up.

I kind of saw Somizi's view when he said perhaps Clicks had a point when they said our hair is dry and what-what.

After relaxing my hair for years, there came a point when it really was dry, brittle and damaged as a result of the years of chemicals it had to endure.

Even now, my blonde do is making me pay for that decision because the bleach used to turn my hair from black to platinum blonde is hot AF, and it burnt the hell out of my hair and skull.

But when Basetsana Kumalo said, “Excuse me Clicks, TRESemmé and Unilever. Do you care to explain this: as the mother of a beautiful African child and daughter of the African soil, how dare you describe our crowns as dry, brittle and damaged?", I also understood where her anger was coming from.

The mistake made by TRESemmé and Clicks was neglecting to say that the “dry, brittle and damaged” part comes as a result of using their products. The truth is, until recently, none of the products we've been using on our hair was created with the best interests of our hair in mind.

So we circle right-back to the “multimillion-rand hair industries, ownership and actual representation” politics, because until we have our own means, we will never truly be happy  in the politics of hair.

As far as my hair is concerned, that remains a personal choice. One I use as I see fit. Thanks.