There Is No Award for Pain: A Nigerian Woman’s Honest Hair Journey

Someone tweeted recently: "There is no award for pain. If natural hair is giving you problems, relax it!" And I laughed. Not because it was a joke but because it took me straight down memory lane. You see this my hair journey? Hmmm, it is not just a story; it is an epic. A series of battles, tears, self-discovery, rebellion, healing, and finally love.

Let me take you back to where it all began. The Natural Hair Wars of My Childhood

Growing up, my hair was natural and not in the cute, coily, product-ad-styled way social media now romanticizes. My hair was natural by force, not by choice. Why? Because my mum made it so. She believed in it with everything she had. My sister and I were not allowed anywhere near relaxers. She was the gatekeeper of the kinks and coils, and her determination was unshakable.

Every weekend was the same: loosen hair, comb out, (sometimes, wash day) braid again. And the cycle was PAINFUL. Not just “ouch” pain, I mean the kind of pain that made me cry every single time. I would grip the chair, clench my teeth, and sometimes even hold my breath. I developed techniques just to survive, like tilting my head in ways that reduced the tension. My scalp had trauma, let me not even lie.

Now here is the “good” or “bad” part, depending on how you look at it, my hair was full. Thick, long, and fast-growing. People would stop my mum to compliment it, telling her how beautiful our hair was, and she would beam with pride. But nobody talks about the flip side of having beautiful, full natural hair. The torture of loosening and re-braiding it every week. The comb that breaks mid-way, the tears, the headaches and the sheer mental stress.

At some point in secondary school, I could not take it anymore. I was tired, not just physically, but emotionally. The tears, the tension, the torture was too much. One day, while trying to loosen my hair faster and avoid the usual comb battle, I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut some parts. Let me just confess now: I did not cut it evenly. I was not strategic. I just attacked it like the enemy it had become. Desperation will humble you like that.

When I got to the salon, the hairdresser stared at my head like, “Wetin be this?” She tried to plait it, bless her heart. She really did. But the hair was just… confused, uneven, chopped in multiple layers and it looked like someone had lost a fight with a blunt knife. Eventually, I had to cut everything. It was not even up for debate at that point. I felt free. Like I had just walked out of prison into sunlight. The relief was so overwhelming that I did not even miss the hair.

My mum made a deal with us: “Once you finish secondary school, if you still want to relax your hair, I will let you.” We tried to renegotiate. Even my cousins stepped in, begging her to allow us to relax it before then but my mum stood her ground. She did not budge. So you can imagine the kind of countdown I had going. I was not just counting down to WAEC, I was counting down to freedom.

And when that day came? I did not waste time. I told my mum, “I am ready.” She took me to her trusted stylist. And that was how I got my first relaxer. Omooooo, I was the happiest girl on earth that day. I was practically glowing. No more crying at the salon. No more neck acrobatics to reduce the pain. I had entered a new era.

From that moment, I relaxed my hair religiously every 3 months. And I loved it, I really did.

Then I met a hairstylist in OAU that changed everything for me, Hair Volution by Bee. This woman? God bless her wherever she is. She did not just do my hair. She nurtured it. She educated me. She respected me.

Her prices were high, yes. But I did not mind. She had a clean space, she did not gossip, and she did not ask intrusive questions. I always felt safe in her chair. There was no drama. It was just peace. Her hands were gentle, her knowledge vast, and her customer service? 10/10.

I made my hair with her throughout my undergraduate years. Then she relocated to Canada during my final year. Chaiiii. That thing pain me well. After she left, I tried a few other salons. But it just was not the same. My scalp is very tender, so not just anyone can touch my head. I tried maybe two or three stylists and each time, it felt like my head was under attack. Eventually, I gave up. I told my boyfriend at the time how frustrated I was, and he, bless his heart, sent his personal barber to my hostel. He had heard me complain too many times (baba don tire to dey hear complain). And that was how I cut my hair. Again. This time, I went near-skin. I was not even worried because I had wigs. In fact, I had started depending on wigs a lot. Too much, actually.

At first, wigs were the perfect solution. I could switch up my look without the salon stress. But over time, it became addictive and expensive. I bought one very fancy wig that cost me a fortune, and that was when I had a moment. I looked at the receipt and thought, “This is heading toward financial irresponsibility.” I was spending too much trying to cover up what I hadn’t truly accepted. That was when I decided I needed something else, something that felt more me.

I considered cutting my hair again when the idea of locs came up. I gave myself a condition: “Let’s try this for 3 months. If I do not like it, I will loosen it and cut it all off.”

Plot twist: I did not just like it, I loved it. It was the most liberating, grounding, confidence-boosting hair decision I have ever made. I loved it so much that I inspired quite a number of people to go on locs. I kept my locs for four years. Four beautiful years. Eventually, I had to cut them, and two years ago, I started growing my hair again.

This time, nobody forced me. Nobody cajoled me. Nobody convinced me. I chose it on my own terms.

Now, I have found a hairstylist whose hands don’t pain me (yes, that’s a real qualification now). But anytime I am in a different location and need to do my hair elsewhere, it is a STRUGGLE. Most hairstylists I meet don’t have patience for natural hair. They are rough, they rush, they sigh loudly as if your hair is a burden (rolls eye). But despite all that? I am not discouraged. This is the journey I chose. I am not forcing anyone to join me, and I am not looking down on anyone who chooses differently.

No one is handing out medals for how long you endured hair trauma. No one is giving you trophies for crying in the salon every week as a child. You don’t need to suffer to be beautiful. You don’t need to prove your Blackness, your strength, your identity through pain. Whether you choose natural, relaxed, locs, low cut, wigs, braids, or bald — the most important thing is: do what works for YOU.

Lessons From My Hair Journey

• Your hair does not define your beauty — your peace does. Choose peace.
• Pain is not a virtue. Let go of that “beauty is pain” myth. Ease is allowed.
• There is power in making your own decisions. My real hair journey began when I stopped following rules and started listening to myself.
• A good service provider is gold. If you find someone who respects your hair and your humanity, hold them close.
• Every season is valid. I have been team relaxer, team wig, team bald, team locs, and now team natural. Each one taught me something different.
• Don’t force your path on anyone. What works for you may not work for the next person and that’s perfectly fine.

And I smiled, because finally — finally — I can say I know it is true. Now that I am back to natural hair, it is from a place of understanding. I now know that natural hair is not just a "look", it is a commitment to health.

Many relaxers and chemical treatments contain harsh ingredients that, over time, can damage not just the hair shaft but also the scalp. We are talking about chemicals like sodium hydroxide and calcium hydroxide, which can cause scalp burns, thinning, and even hair loss when used carelessly or too frequently.

In contrast, natural hair allows me to connect more deeply with what my body actually needs, without the burn, flakes or the long-term effects. And I am intentional now. I use products from Nigerian-owned haircare brands that are not just local, but safe. These products are free from sulfates, parabens, and harsh preservatives. I love that these brands are creating products specifically for the African scalp and texture and doing it with love and care. Supporting them feels like a full-circle experience. I like that they are creating products that understand our hair and in turn building an ecosystem that loves it.

Another thing I have embraced is protective styling. Not every time braids that feel like spiritual warfare. Sometimes it is simple flat twists, cornrows, or even thread styles that give my edges a break. I have learned that protective styling is not just about “resting” your hair. It is about protecting your peace of mind, your time, and your health. Gone are the days of tolerating pain because “beauty is pain.” Now? Beauty is balance, comfort and rest.

And guess what? I have already made up my mind, before the year runs out, I am loc’ing my hair again.

I am not here to shame anyone who relaxes their hair. In fact, I was that girl, and I loved it. I am not anti-wig either, they got me through some seasons when I was not ready to face my natural hair.

What I am saying is: choose what brings you peace. Don’t endure pain because you think it makes you stronger. Don’t suffer through styles that give you headaches and sleepless nights. There is no award for pain. None. Zero. Zilch.

Whether it is relaxed, natural, loc’d, low cut, braided, or bald, what matters is that it works for you. And for me? Right now, that is natural hair, handmade products, gentle hands, protective styles and soon, locs again.

So yes, I agree with the tweet. “There is no award for pain…”

Now Over to You…

What is your hair story? Let us talk in the comments.

1. What part of this story resonated with you the most?
2. Have you ever felt pressure to keep a particular hair type or style?
3. Are you Team Natural, Team Relaxed, Team Wig, or Team Whatever Works Today?

I would really love to hear your thoughts and if you know someone navigating their own hair journey, feel free to share this with them. Let’s keep the conversation going.