“In this world, nothing is certain except death, taxes, Uchenna Ibemere not picking up your call on first ring and Jamaican barbers testing your patience.”
– Okechukwu
Ibemere, 2023
So I was long overdue for a proper haircut. Chioma had
complimented me the last time I went to a salon near school and returned with a
changed style. Even though it was a bit radical in terms of what I usually do
to my hair, I decided to go the whole hog and get a totally new hair outlook.
If you know me well, you’d guess that my penny-pinching,
tight-fisted minion is one of the leaders of the tribe of neurons and that
reflects in the fact that I haven’t been able to chalk up the will to spend 20
pounds on a haircut. On reflection, it’s a bit shameful on my part because….come
on!!
Anyway, ever since coming to the UK, the quest to cut my
hair had taken me to a shop in Burnt Oak where one Ghanaian barber who came
highly recommended, ended up performing below expectations, corralling my
cousin Chijiudo to help with an impromptu haircut one day at his place and
finally, in desperation, to a fancy nail salon/hair appointment place in
Stratford where a very nice, white guy braved the elements and went out of his
comfort zone to take on black man hair. This last guy didn’t do too badly and
actually gave me a new look, (the aforementioned one Chioma liked). So I decided
to keep it in mind to try new things.
One dreary, cold evening on my way back from the Library, I
had spied with my roving eye, a lively looking barber shop close to the Maryland
station where I went to take the Elizabeth train line to Paddington ..(Just
felt like giving you the unnecessary info).. and I made a mental note to try it
out sometime. That time came one Wednesday evening after a long class session, I
decided, fuck it…I’m going in.
Even though I didn’t quite know what to expect, the loud
Reggae music was the first clue that this black, handsome brother with the
clipper was from that lovely Island country. There were some other dudes around,
some seated casually and two others swaying to Master Marley’s Natural
Mystic track. Bruh…na so the experience take start o..
I’ve never seen a more lively, chatty, all-over-the-place,
constantly moving barber.
The guy was already cutting someone’s hair in front of him
but was doing about 5 other things at the same time. He would run the clipper
over the man’s hair for some seconds, turn to one of his compadres and launch
into a whole new gist about God knows what, turn back to the unfortunate guy in
the chair, spin him around to find where he stopped, continue with the haircut
for a bit, stop completely, go to where his phone was charging and change the
track to Marlon Asher’s famous Ganja farmer, shuffle up and down shaking
his head as the song takes hold, suddenly remember his client and in the middle
of going to pick up the clipper to continue, suddenly remembers he has to make
a Whatsapp video call back home.
It’s absolutely chaotic.
I’m sitting there in mild shock as this guy proceeds with
the video call and tries to fit in the client in the chair in between bursts of
delighted Patois. We can all clearly see and hear as this dude goes on and on
with his family back in Kingston as each different individual shows up on the
screen and somehow, slowly, we all (including the guy still seated in the chair
with the cape around his neck) become invested in this strange re-union call.
The climax comes when his Grandma comes on and the dude almost bursts into tears of
joy. He calls her a weird pet name, “mannany” or something like that, and
kisses the phone screen at the same time… Lord!
I’m trying to make up my mind to leave but somehow, I’ve
become a part of this drama and even when he takes a break from the call, he
senses my resolve and turns to me and says “Big man…me soon get to ya bro,
dun worry, ya turn coming next”. Sigh.
He eventually rounds up the call and finally gets back to
his business with so much energy and still giving us the gist of all that
happened in his family and town. Apparently, everyone was gathered for a
funeral except him. I resign myself to fate and settle in for a long wait and
late arrival home.
It all eventually turns out well because I believe I’ve
found my permanent barber. Alex (his name which he volunteered freely) was
fantastic and made it worth the wait. Came out looking, as they say it.. so
fresh and clean. Best of all, he only took 15 pounds from me cos it was all the
cash I had in my wallet. (Minion gives a satisfactory high five).
Judging by all the compliments I’ve been receiving on the
new haircut, it’s very likely, I’ll become a part of whatever tribe lurks in
that barbershop.
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