ONE of the hottest topics about interracial dating is the issue of hair. I am talking about teaching your European boyfriend where to get black people’s hair, what is good hair and basically explaining braids, cornrows, weaves… the lot.

One day, I will tell you a story about that. Today’s story is about a wig. We all know that sometimes we want to give our hairlines a break from all the stress of braiding and weaving. My go to was a wig. I had this kinky curly weave that was really cool and used to give me that Rihanna vibe. So, I had recently started dating this white dude from Yorkshire. He wanted to take me out to dinner somewhere nice. My hair was a right mess and I didn’t have any time to have it done. Thank heavens for my kinky curly wig, my day was saved; or so I thought.

Dinner was awesome and I was really feeling myself. Let’s just say things progressed and I ended up at his home. I was really feeling this guy. So we decided to do the adult stuff. Everything was great, except that my wig flew off mid-coitus! Iri izuva randisingakanganwi! I will never forget this day! The dude said, ‘Oi! You just lost your hair!’ I had not even realised my wig was gone.

In Shona they say nyadzi dzinokunda rufu, shame is worse than death. I wished the ground could open up and swallow me! Let’s just say it was over with that dude. I kept my wig though, big mistake. I had it resized to a snug size. Looking back, that resizing was no good. That thing used to give me endless headaches because it was too tight. So why didn’t I get rid of the thing? It’s simple, I really liked it. And how did the damn wig repay me? Further embarrassment.

I remember one Friday evening, it must have been around 6PM. I was coming from work, back then I was a low level assistant at a bank on Fleet Street in London. Fridays at the bank were casual days and I could afford to wear my Riri kinky curly hair! I had just gotten off bus number 132. This particular Friday was a good day. I had managed to get off early from work so I was in a really good mood. I was smiling at everyone on my way home.

I got home and as I was about to take off my wig, I couldn’t find it. All I could feel was the black head cover that I would normally put before the wig to avoid irritation. It dawned on me that I was probably without my wig the whole way from work. No wonder people were staring at me funny. I remembered that just as I was leaving work, there was a gust of wind and that’s when it probably happened.

Since that day, I did not wear a wig for years. My only regret is I didn’t get the satisfaction of getting rid of that damn wig myself!