#ghana braid

[wondergirlmoliy]

[eurafricafetish]

Ghana and Austria Merge and create au beautiful Eurafrikan girl.

Austria Girl has change for better.

More breasts, shapes and colors.

The Austrian woman has become more exotic.

[debonke]

Braided hairstyles for kids are not just a fashion statement; they are a versatile and practical choice for parents and children alike. From school days to sp

[authenticafricanhairbraiding]

Single Braids: A Stylish and Versatile Hair Trend in Texas

Single braids have become increasingly popular among women seeking stylish and low-maintenance hairstyles. This versatile hair trend offers a range of options for expressing individuality and creativity. Single braids hairstyles involve weaving individual sections of hair into tight, neat braids, resulting in a chic and elegant look. Whether you prefer a classic or edgy style, single braids provide endless possibilities for experimentation.

If you're searching for hair braiding shop in Ennis tx, in Midlothian tx, Milford tx,  League tx,  or Red Oaks tx, then Authentic African Hair Braiding is the best hair salon that offers a wide range of single braids for women hairstyles, each with its unique features and benefits.

Singles Braids

Regular Single Braids

Regular singles braids are a timeless option that can be customized to suit any occasion. The entire head is braided with traditional single braids, from the roots to the ends, creating a uniform and neat appearance. This style is often chosen for its simplicity and longevity. The braids can be thin or thick, depending on personal preference, and can be left loose or gathered into an updo.

One of the advantages of regular single braids is their versatility. They can be styled in various ways, such as a high ponytail, a bun, or a left cascading down the back. To add a touch of elegance, accessories like beads, cuffs, or ribbons can be incorporated into the braids, enhancing the overall look.

Micro Braids

Micro braiding hair is a popular variation of single braids that offer a more intricate and delicate look. These braids are much smaller than regular single braids, resulting in a more detailed and refined hairstyle. Micro braids are typically achieved by using human hair extensions, which provide length and volume to the natural hair.

To maintain micro braids, keeping the scalp clean and moisturized is essential. Regular washing with a gentle shampoo and conditioner, followed by applying a lightweight oil to the scalp, helps to keep the braids and natural hair healthy. Additionally, tying the braids with a satin or silk scarf while sleeping can help to prevent frizz and preserve the style.

Jumbo Braids

Jumbo braids are a bold and striking variation of single braids that create a dramatic and voluminous hairstyle. These braids are more significant than regular single braids, adding a statement element to your overall look. Jumbo box braids and jumbo knotless braids are popular styles within the jumbo braids category.

Keeping the scalp moisturized and clean is essential to care for jumbo braids. Applying a lightweight oil or moisturizing spray to the scalp and braids helps to prevent dryness and promote healthy hair. Covering the braids with a satin or silk scarf while sleeping is also recommended to minimize frizz and preserve the style.

Ghana Braids

Ghana braids styles, also known as cornrows or invisible braids, originated in West Africa and have gained popularity worldwide. These braids are created by weaving the hair close to the scalp in a continuous, intricate pattern. Ghana braids offer a unique and stylish look suitable for casual and formal occasions.

Maintaining Ghana braids hairstyles is essential to keep the scalp clean and moisturized. Regular washing with a gentle shampoo and conditioner, followed by applying a lightweight oil or moisturizing spray to the scalp, helps to keep the braids and natural hair healthy. Covering the braids with a satin or silk scarf while sleeping is also recommended to minimize frizz and preserve the style.

To Conclude

Single braids, including regular single braids, micro braids, Ghana braids, and jumbo braids, offer a wide range of stylish options for women seeking versatility and low-maintenance hairstyles. These braided hairstyles allow individuals to express their creativity and personal style while promoting the health and growth of their natural hair. With proper care and maintenance, single braids can provide a convenient, protective hairstyle supporting healthy hair growth. Our Authentic African Hair Braiding salon is a reputable salon that specializes in Single Braids to achieve the desired look.

[gretahayes]

I just think that people should try different hairstyles for black characters. You can't just go with the afro/straight hair/generic Braids (ignoring there's like a billion types of braids)/dreads. There's wicks there's twists there's didi there's kinki/kinky twists there's goddess braids there's brick braids there's knotless braids there's those annoying fucking side braids that look cute but are sensory hell there's feed-in braids there's snake braids there's so many crochet styles there's Ghana braids there's triangle box braids there's cornrows that turn into box braids there's braided buns there's like three million things you can do with cornrows there's so many black hairstyles that aren't being used cause people just don't care enough to research or think they're too hard to do

[ptseti]

Typical African on Twitter

@Joe__Bassey

THE AFRICAN ORIGIN OF BRAIDING The origin of braids can be traced back 5000 years in African culture to 3500 BC—they were very popular among women. Braiding started in Africa with the Himba people of Namibia. The country’s Mbalantu ethnicity uses eembuvi braids as an initiation into womanhood – our first examples of single braids or “box braids". In Angola, among certain tribes, hair grooming was an activity trusted only by other family members — something that women were taught at a young age and encouraged to participate in throughout their lives to promote womanhood. The origins of the ever-popular Bantu Knots have been traced to the Bantu people who exist across central and Southern Africa. “South Africa’s “Zulu Knots” are said to be the original manifestation of the style, and South Africa is also credited for the invention of “Box braids”, with evidence of the style being traced back to 3500 BCE. Braiding’s roots in East Africa have been traced back to 3500 BC, with cornrows (called Kolese braids in Yoruba) maintaining the top spot in popularity for just as long. Historically, Somali women have been recorded donning long, small braids when approaching puberty. Ethiopia has maintained an admirably close relationship with its traditional forms of braiding. In the Southwestern Omo Valley, the Hamar people have perfected their hairstyles as a means to dictate male worth and female marital status. The importance of braids in communicating identity is a rich part of Uganda’s history, too. In Kenya, the Maasi and Kikuyu tribes have donned their famed matted braids, intricate beading, and gold detailings ever since. West Africa boasts an abundance of hair braiding styles, many of which have influenced global African culture and trends for decades. The Fula people, whose 30 million strong population exists across West Africa, gifted the world with Fulani braids. In Ghana, the iconic Banana or Ghana braids have gained favor for their easy application, upkeep, and excellence in providing protection to natural Black hair. The first examples of this way of braiding are traced back to hieroglyphics and sculptures found around 500 BC. Similarly, Nigeria’s rich history of braiding can be traced back to a clay sculpture dated to 500 BCE depicting a cornrowed member of the Nok tribe. Mali's Dogon people has various spiritual idols depicting cornrowed spiritual leaders, and the retained tradition of The Dama dance have allowed us the privilege of understanding the bewildering society that contributed to our understanding of our universe. In Sierra Leone, Mende people's hair is closely tied to femininity and is juxtaposed with the way forests grow out of the Earth – the vegetation covering Mother Earth grows skyward the way Afro-textured hair grows out of the head. Senegal’s Senegalese Twists or “Rao” as they’re known locally came in vogue as an alternative means of creating individual, long braids – if locs or “box braids” aren’t your style. Gambian warriors were known to march off to war with tightly coiled braids, too. The Mangbetu people of the Democratic Republic of Congo, known for their practice of wrapping their skulls into a cone shape from infancy, locally referred to as “Lipombo, ” the elongated heads were then adorned with braids plaited into a crowned, basket shape called edamburu. Cameroon’s bountiful Fulani community has kept many of their hair traditions well and alive, while the region’s Bantu population participated in the popularity of the now-famed ‘Bantu knots’. In Chad, women of the Basara ethnicity are known for their thick, long, luscious hair – often plaited into waist-long individual braids. In Kemet around 1600 BCE, hair braiding amongst women of royalty, nobility, and concubines was adorned with gold, beads, and perfumed grease, while common folk kept to simpler styles necessary to get work done. #Africa

[fierceawakening]

Re the respecting kids' boundaries THING

So there is a kid at my church who I've posted about before who is a transracial adoptee from Ghana, and who will occasionally flinch, very understandably, at images of war, privation, etc.

She gets along well with my mom, as her adoptive mom is someone my mom does a lot of church stuff with. So she'll run up to her and hug her, etc. But she would rarely hug me, and this made me sad. I wanted hugs too! I wanted to show her that she was welcome and we had her back, even if we didn't always know what she was dealing with as a bunch of random white people.

Fast forward mumbleblerg years and she's a young teen, and is a bit less huggy in general but still affectionate with my mom and not with me. I still feel a bit :-( about it but of course I don't say anything, it's silly I'd be super invested.

Well a couple weeks ago, she'd dyed the tips of her braids pastel pink, with glittery pink beads on the ends. I thought it looked lovely with her dark hair and skin. So I said to her one day, "Hey B, your hair is beautiful! I really like it."

Child RAN OVER TO ME and threw her arms around me in the BIGGEST HUG. It was AWESOME.

If you care about somebody, and you put that above what you want from them... sooner or later, they'll eventually notice.

[moneeb0930]

THE AFRICAN ORIGIN OF BRAIDING

The origin of braids can be traced back 5000 years in African culture to 3500 BC—they were very popular among women. Braiding started in Africa with the Himba people of Namibia. The country’s Mbalantu tribe uses eembuvi braids as an initiation into womanhood – our first examples of single braids or “box braids". In Angola, among certain tribes, hair grooming was an activity trusted only by other family members — something that women were taught at a young age and encouraged to participate in throughout their lives to promote womanhood. The origins of the ever-popular Bantu Knots have been traced to the Bantu people who exist across central and Southern Africa. “South Africa’s “Zulu Knots” are said to be the original manifestation of the style, and South Africa is also credited for the invention of “Box braids”, with evidence of the style being traced back to 3500 BCE. Braiding’s roots in East Africa have been traced back to 3500 BC, with cornrows (called Kolese braids in Yoruba) maintaining the top spot in popularity for just as long. Historically, Somali women have been recorded donning long, small braids when approaching puberty.

Ethiopia has maintained an admirably close relationship with its traditional forms of braiding. In the Southwestern Omo Valley, the Hamar tribe have perfected their hairstyles as a means to dictate male worth and female marital status. The importance of braids in communicating identity is a rich part of Uganda’s history, too. In Kenya, the Maasi and Kikuyu tribes have donned their famed matted braids, intricate beading, and gold detailings ever since. West Africa boasts an abundance of hair braiding styles, many of which have influenced global African culture and trends for decades. The Fula people, whose 30 million strong population exists across West Africa, gifted the world with Fulani braids. In Ghana, the iconic Banana or Ghana braids have gained favor for their easy application, upkeep, and excellence in providing protection to natural Black hair. The first examples of this way of braiding are traced back to hieroglyphics and sculptures found around 500 BC. Similarly, Nigeria’s rich history of braiding can be traced back to a clay sculpture dated to 500 BCE depicting a cornrowed member of the Nok tribe. Mali's Dogon tribe has various spiritual idols depicting cornrowed spiritual leaders, and the retained tradition of The Dama dance have allowed us the privilege of understanding the bewildering society that contributed to our understanding of our universe. In Sierra Leone, Mende people's hair is closely tied to femininity and is juxtaposed with the way forests grow out of the Earth – the vegetation covering Mother Earth grows skyward the way Afro-textured hair grows out of the head.

Senegal’s Senegalese Twists or “Rao” as they’re known locally came in vogue as an alternative means of creating individual, long braids – if locs or “box braids” aren’t your style. Gambian warriors were known to march off to war with tightly coiled braids, too. The Mangbetu people of the Democratic Republic of Congo, known for their practice of wrapping their skulls into a cone shape from infancy, locally referred to as “Lipombo, ” the elongated heads were then adorned with braids plaited into a crowned, basket shape called edamburu. Cameroon’s bountiful Fulani community has kept many of their hair traditions well and alive, while the region’s Bantu population participated in the popularity of the now-famed ‘Bantu knots’.

In Chad, women of the Basara Arab tribe are known for their thick, long, luscious hair – often plaited into waist-long individual braids. In Kemet around 1600 BCE, hair braiding amongst women of royalty, nobility, and concubines was adorned with gold, beads, and perfumed grease, while common folk kept to simpler styles necessary to get work done. Back in the day, braiding hair was considered a special ceremonial practice amongst Sudanese women, even holding the braiding “events” on specific days when female neighbors and friends were invited to partake.

Reference

African Tribes and the Cultural Significance of Braiding Hair". Bright Hub Education. 9 July 2011. Archived from the original on 1 September 2017. Retrieved 1 May 2018.

[howhow326]

Time to drop another Bayonetta OC out of pocket!

Im having a bit too much fun with this black centric picrew but also good

Name: Destinyque

Real Name: Boahinmaa

Hair: Black, long box braids

Skin color: dark brown

Skin detail: Smooth

Height: 6 feet

Scent: Cherry smell

Birthyear: 1422

Place of birth: Ghana

Habits: Winking

Fears: Nothing!

Triggers: Lumen Sages

Soft spots: Cats

Goals: Recover lost umbran treasures

Positive traits: Positivity

Negative traits: hides her insecurities

Backstory: While the heart of the Clan Wars happened in Europe, the true scale of the conflict included the whole Earth. During this time, many Witch settlements were caught unawares and wiped out by the Lumen.

One such settlement was Boahinmaa's home. Instead of being discouraged, the young girl vowed revenge. Too young to fight in the Clan Wars, Boahinmaa became one of the most fearsome and deadly witches during the Witch Hunts, able to wipe out entire choirs of Angels singlehandedly. But eventually, Boahinmaa disappeared... and Destinyque was born.

Now living in New York, Destinyque is a performer by daylight, and an Umbra Witch by moonlight. Too this day, Boahinmaa still fights to reclaim what was stolen from her. I made this all up in the span of 2 minutes lol

Contract: Madama Adze, Mother of Envy (The demonic progenitor of the Adze, vampiric demons that take the forms of fireflies in the living world. These fireflies can possess humans and give them the powers of a witch, but in exchange they must drain the blood of the living. These witches, known as abasom, typically only go after people they envy, the poor going after the rich and the elderly going after the young. Were a witch to enter a contract with Madama Adze, she would gain fantastic powers and an unstoppable fortitude.)

Weapon of Choice: Take the A-Train (4 guns: Ella, Duke, Aretha, Mary)

Weapon Origin: Created by Rodin

Beast Within Forms: Lioness, Vulture, Fireflies, Eel

[reasoningdaily]

Shani Crowe will be the first to admit that she’s been braiding hair “forever.”

The 28-year-old was the genius behind Solange Knowles’ stunning crown on Saturday Night Live and a Saint Heron event. But before all the large-scale attention, the Chicago native was braiding, creating sculptures and shooting photography.

“I used to be kind of like the unofficial documentarian of everything that happened in my friend group from like high school and college to beyond,” she told ESSENCE.

“I come from a family of artists too. My dad’s an illustrator and photographer and he’s a historian by trade but he’s always been an artist. He paints with watercolor, he does a lot of watercolor work. Most of what I do is drawing and is sculptural work but then I’ve always braided and I’ve always saw braiding as something that was separate from my artistic repertoire but I put just as much artistry into the braids that I do.”

Crowe had the privilege of showing her work at Art Basel’s SCOPE exhibit and Creme of Nature’s Entwine event in Miami last week. Surrounded by large-scale black-and white-photographs of women with intricate braids, the Howard University graduate shared how she made the leap from taking the photos to showcasing her work for the world.

“My goal was around $3,000 and that was a really modest estimate at the time,” she said about using a funding platform that matches donations. “It took a minute but near the end of my campaign people donated and I made the $3,000 that I needed. And then people just started to support me in ways that I didn’t realize I needed, but were just monumental and me being able to create this work.”

Over the past year she’s been featured in ESSENCE, W, Allure and The New York Times —in addition to having an exhibit at Brooklyn’s MoCADA. But for this interdisciplinary artist, this is just the beginning.

“I’m going to Ghana in February,” she said. “I have so many more concepts for exceptional-grade photography, exceptional-grade art that I will capture as photograph and I really want to do a book.”

“I want to go to different regions in Africa, learn their traditional braid techniques and then also talk to the women who are braiders about how having a trade or being entrepreneur has changed their life.”

[trflynoweasily]

Embracing the Beauty of Black Color Hairstyles: A Timeless Trend

In the vast world of fashion and beauty, trends come and go, but there's one element that remains eternally stylish and captivating: black color hairstyles. Black hair has a unique allure and versatility that allows for endless creativity and self-expression. Whether you're looking to rock a sleek bob, intricate braids, or voluminous curls, black hair offers a canvas for artistic hairstyles that never go out of fashion. In this blog post, we celebrate the timeless beauty of black color hairstyles and explore the different ways you can embrace this incredible trend.

The Significance of Black Color Hairstyles:

Black color hairstyles hold a special significance in various cultures and communities around the world. Historically, black hair has been a symbol of pride, strength, and identity for people of African descent. From traditional cornrows and dreadlocks to modern styles like afros and twists, black hair carries a rich cultural heritage. Moreover, black color hairstyles have gained popularity beyond racial boundaries, captivating individuals from diverse backgrounds who appreciate the beauty and versatility of these styles.

Sleek and Chic: The Classic Bob:

One iconic black color hairstyle that has stood the test of time is the classic bob. This elegant and sophisticated cut frames the face beautifully and exudes an air of confidence. Whether you opt for a blunt cut or a slightly asymmetrical style, the black color adds depth and intensity, making the bob a truly eye-catching choice. Pair it with a bold red lip and minimal makeup for a timeless and polished look.

Braids: A Work of Art:

Braided hairstyles have been a cornerstone of black hair culture for centuries. The intricate patterns and attention to detail make them true works of art. From the iconic cornrows to box braids, Ghana braids, and Senegalese twists, there are countless ways to rock braided styles. The black color amplifies the elegance and precision of these hairstyles, giving them a striking and captivating appearance. Whether you're going for a simple and neat look or a more elaborate design, braids allow for endless creativity and personalization.

Natural Hair: Embracing Your Curls:

In recent years, there has been a surge in the natural hair movement, encouraging individuals to embrace their curls, kinks, and coils. Black color hairstyles for natural hair celebrate the beauty of textured hair and encourage self-acceptance. From afros to twist-outs, bantu knots, and wash-n-go styles, the versatility of black natural hair is truly awe-inspiring. The black color enhances the depth and definition of these hairstyles, allowing your natural hair to take center stage and make a bold statement.

Experimenting with Color:

While we're celebrating black color hairstyles, that doesn't mean you can't play around with other colors too! Adding pops of color or highlights to your black hair can create a stunning contrast and elevate your look even further. Whether you go for vibrant hues like red, purple, or blue, or opt for subtle caramel or honey-toned highlights, the possibilities are endless. Just remember to choose a professional stylist who can help you achieve the desired results while maintaining the health and integrity of your hair.

Black color hairstyles are a timeless trend that celebrates the natural beauty and diversity of black hair. From sleek bobs to intricate braids and natural curls, black hair offers a world of possibilities for creative expression. Embrace your individuality, celebrate your roots, and experiment with different styles to find the one that truly reflects your unique personality. Whether you're attending a special occasion or simply want to switch up your everyday look, black color hairstyles are here to stay, captivating hearts and turning heads wherever you go.

[wondergirlmoliy]

[ifuluxmag]

HAIRSTYLES FOR THE SUMMER YOU CAN'T RESIST

SUMMER IS COMING !!!! And here we have the perfect African hairstyle for our uni girls that will be on summer break. We can’t wait till you see all this amazing hairstyle.

Box Braids

The box braids has been known to be a simple and convenient braiding style, it is also known to be one of the most effective protective styles for type 4a,b&c. The hairstyle gives your hair the freedom of having the luxury of so many other styles patterns. It also gives the hair the opportunity to have fresh breeze touch the scalp. They're so popular because they require less maintenance than natural hair and provide you the freedom to experiment with color and style without any long-term commitment.

This particular hairstyle originated from the continent Africa particularly in the country Nigeria. 

Ghana Weaving

This style is known to be a very exquisite hairstyle. It originated from the country Ghana. This style has its pros and cons. It could help front hair grow at the same time it could aid front hair breakage.

It can be designed with beads, rings and rubbers.

Faux Locs

Originally from the Caribbean, One of the few protective hairstyles that stands out from the crowd is faux locs. Contrary to braids, which look their finest when they are just finished, fake locs are the exact opposite. The longer you keep fake locs in place, the more attractive they become. Although this protective style can be protective it also can be damaging if it’s not installed and removed with care.

There are several different types of false locs, often known as locs that aren't natural or dreadlocks, including 

distressed bohemian locs.

Butterfly locs.

soft locs.

Shúkú

This is another form of weaving originally from the Yoruba tribe in Nigeria. This is a protective style. This look were particularly worn by queens in the Yoruba tribe.

All Back

Straight-all back braids are the solution for the person who values simplicity. You can certainly attempt to adorn them with pricey ornaments, but you can also simply get up and leave whenever you like. What is better than to that? 

Fulani Braids

The Fulani tribe of Africa are the source of these braids. In this look, box braids and Ghana weaving are combined. In conclusion, Fulani braids are a unique and creative protective style.

Goddess Braids

[coffieolore]

Chapter Two

A Negotiation with Mice

Two men play draughts in an abandoned warehouse. Besides the game board, the table between them is littered with empty fast food cartons and bottles of beer. Rusty farm equipment, stripped cars, and an assortment of grime covered junk take up most of the space in the warehouse. But a few feet away are two mattresses covered in dirty blankets and old clothes. The men have been sleeping here for days.

The older-looking man, Oluman Shi, moves a red piece, capturing four of his opponent’s pieces. “Heh, I’m simply too much,” he laughs as he adds the white tiles to his mounting stack. “Aren’t you tired of losing?”

Bald and heavily wrinkled, Shi wears an unruly grey beard that covers his jaw entirely, coiling down to his chest like wild bougainvillea. But the old man is also well-built, and his attire leaves little to the imagination, consisting solely of the cloth bound around his waist, traditional leather sandals, and the large black beads on his neck, wrists and ankles. He flexes his muscles in celebration, and they ripple and gleam even beneath the weak fluorescent lights in the high ceiling.

“Give up already,” he says. “This is just getting sad.”

Kiira, the second man, is unmoved by Shi’s looming victory. He is heavily built as well, albeit leaner and several inches taller, with platinum blonde braids that cascade down his back. Unlike his companion, he is outfitted in something modern—blue jeans and combat boots. “So you won a board game?” he mutters, crossing his arms over his bare, tattooed chest. “What do you want, a medal?”

Shi lets out an exasperated sigh. “What’s your problem? Please don’t tell me—”

“Oh excuse me for being concerned about our safety,” says Kiira. “I’m only trying not to die.”

“How are you still worried about her?” Shi says. “You wanted us to leave Ghana, and so we did.”

“I was thinking overseas, not bloody Nigeria.”

“You were worried about protection, and so we lifted over a dozen concealment beyie.”

“I would lift a hundred more if I could,” Kiira says.

“We even installed, what, thirty-six warding talismans? What more do you want?” Shi says.

“I want to have never agreed to this batshit plan in the first place!” Kiira snaps.

“You would rather we remained that witch’s servants for the rest of our lives?” Shi says.

“Better that than no life at all,” mutters Kiira.

Shi shakes his head. “You have chicken balls, bro.”

“Your mother has chicken balls.”

“You have chicken balls,” Shi says again. “And so does that immortal cow you’d rather be serving. Say what you will about Oluman Shi, but at least he’s got vision. We deserve more than what Wu allows. And I’m tired of pretending like we don’t.”

The lights in the ceiling flicker, and the two men look up. Kiira is immediately panicked, and he rambles a string of swear words under his breath.

“Will you shut up?” Shi hisses. “It’s just a fluctuating current.”

The lights start flickering again. There is a spare chair next to the mattresses on the floor. Neither notice when, during one of the flickers, the chair disappears.

When the lighting steadies, the men look at each other and Shi rolls his eyes. “Told you. Big baby.”

“Hello boys.”

Kiira and Shi jump to their feet, jerking their eyes up to the source of the new voice. Their chairs clatter backwards across the floor.

Floating high above them, seated in her own chair with her legs crossed, is Mama Wu.

Kiira lets out another obscenity, and this time it is more a wail of despair than fear. He and Shi immediately draw witch-arms—Kiira’s a spear, and Shi’s a whip—and poise themselves for attack.

“Give me an excuse,” Mama Wu says. “I dare you.”

And suddenly, neither Kiira nor Shi can find the will to move.

As Mama Wu makes her slow descent from above, she speaks:

“So a curious thing happened about a week ago. I received a distress signal from Korkor. Showed up to find one of the villagers wandering about two miles outside the village, a raging fiery monster. As it turns out, somebody had corrupted his sunsum and, with the keepers too preoccupied trying to stop his rampage, launched a devastating firestorm beyie on the village. The community I spent the last century painstakingly seeding, grooming, and building? Reduced to dust. Worse still, I was left with the very unpleasant task of ending that villager’s life myself—the last of his people, my handiwork. To call it excruciating would be an understatement. And the entire time, you know what I was thinking?”

Her chair ceases its descent to hover just about an inch above the floor. “Where. The hell. Is my team?” says Mama Wu. “Did I not recruit a circle of the most talented beyifo in the sub-Saharan region,” she continues, “specifically to prevent this level of catastrophic loss? So where were they? Because other than Selasi, not a single one of them showed up. I thought: ‘Surely this is some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe they’re at a wedding? A funeral? In bed with their lovers? Inexcusable still, but at least, not suicidal.’” Her smile is taut. “Because there’s no way this was on purpose, right? Surely they wouldn’t be foolish enough to betray me?” Her eyes narrow. “And yet, here I find them in hiding, reeking of beer and guilt and fear.”

Kiira’s ramping terror reaches a peak. With a delirious cry, he shoots towards Mama Wu with his spear drawn, at a speed on the cusp of sound.

He doesn’t quite reach Mama Wu before some unseen beyie obstructs him, igniting him on impact, a bright and sudden blaze like phosphorous fire. The momentum sends him flaring past an unfazed Mama Wu. His body skims across the floor, a shooting star on crash landing. And when he comes to a stop, there is nothing left of him but a pile of smoldering bones teeming with squirming, incandescent maggots.

Oluman Shi drops his whip, horrified.

“I’m not sure what I’m more ashamed of,” Mama Wu says, as she gets out of her chair, leaving it still hanging above the floor. “That you would hide at all…” With a wave of her hand, she snatches Oluman Shi off the ground, flips him upside down, and yanks him to her. “…or that you have resorted to petty tricks.”

She waves her hand again, and his body begins to morph. His muscles compress, his frame lengthens, his beard shrivels and blows away like desiccated grass. His facial features liquify into wet clay, squeezing, twisting, and molding themselves back into their original state.

“It makes me question what I ever saw in you,” says Mama Wu.

A different man now hangs before Mama Wu. But for his bald head, this one bears a fraternal resemblance to Kiira. He fights back tears of rage as Mama Wu bends over to address him, her face inches away from his.

“Kamari,” says Mama Wu. “Where is Oluman Shi?”

“You’re going to kill me anyway,” Kamari stammers through gritted teeth. “So why would I tell you?”

Mama Wu’s smile does not meet her eyes. “Because I could make your end swift, like your brother’s. Or I could turn this into a very, very long night.”

Kamari shakes his head so hard, his neck bones are making gentle pops. “We face neither East nor West, neither East nor West, neither East nor West,” he drones, his voice deepening into a pitch as deep as the sea. His facial muscles slacken, and his eyes roll back into his head. “We march eternally forward, eternally forward, forward. The revolution…has come.”

Mama Wu steps aside, just as a light shines out of the whites of Kamari’s eyes. The light projects a fluttering, washed-out image in the air.

An image of Oluman Shi. This version of the bald, bearded old man is wearing a camo uniform of dark, muddy and olive greens. He stands with his back to Mama Wu, his hands clasped behind him, every muscle more pronounced than when Kamari wore his likeness. He speaks over his shoulder in a deep and rumbling Akan:

“Back in my army days, we had a word for commanders like you. Nsamuden. They did a little too much, tried a little too hard, to control everything around them. It sounds perfect for the military at first. But even the dove pecks at your eye if you squeeze it too hard.”

Mama Wu walks up to the image. “You recount your past with such sweet fondness, Shi. If you long for the days when you were human, come here. Let me remind you what mortality tastes like.”

“Of course you would say that.” Oluman Shi turns to face her, his tone chiding as he switches to English. “Your paths to resolution have always been drowned in blood, Mama Wu. No wonder you cannot see the footprints in the sand, never mind where the road leads. But this is the blessing of my truth-eye beyie. It does more than reveal the truth in spoken words. It reveals the truth about the world. And our world is ready for change.”

Mama Wu nods thoughtfully, and starts to sit into empty air. Her chair glides across the floor to catch her in time. “So, that’s what this is?” she says, as she is seated. “A coup?”

“The word ‘coup’ implies you were ever put into power,” Oluman Shi says. “But you weren’t given your authority, Wu. You took it.”

“From flesh-eaters and megalomaniacal coven keepers,” Mama Wu says, with the calm of a millpond. “What’s your point?”

“That you are far from the benevolent god you make yourself out to be. You are a false god. And our brothers and sisters are finally ready to be free. They see how your laws weaken our people. Your disdain for any authority other than your own has only resulted in stagnation. You are a boulder around our necks, weighing us down from our true potential. The old ways must die.”

Mama Wu’s smile is unfaltering. “And I with them, I suppose.”

“Only if you resist. Unlike you, I am open to diplomatic paths.”

“He says, a week after mass murdering a village.”

Oluman Shi pauses, and takes a deep breath. “Korkor was…unfortunate. I mourn the dead in Korkor,” he says, “like I mourn the dead in Saanga.”

Mama Wu goes quiet at the mention of the second village. Otherwise, she offers no other physical reaction. Her smile stays up. “So you know about Saanga,” she finally says.

“That’s the problem with infamy. All those myths and legends about the great Mama Wu; truths buried beneath lies, convenient when you have secrets to hide. Right up until someone comes along…” Shi taps a finger against his forehead. “…who can tell truth and lie apart. In this case, the truth sealed Korkor’s fate. Their destruction was inevitable. And their blood is on your hands.”

Mama Wu cocks her head ever so slightly. “I see.”

“Korkor was only a show of resolve. We mean business, and are willing to take more from you if necessary.”

The image pans with Oluman Shi to reveal a second person, bound to a chair by what appear at first to be coils of shiny black rope. But as the rope shifts, the head of a snake slithers from around the person’s hip, and flicks its forked tongue. Shi stands behind the captive, reaching around to tilt their head up by their chin.

Selasi’s face is bruised, battered, bleeding. His eyes are so swollen, it is impossible to tell if he can even see Mama Wu.

Mama Wu’s smile falters, but doesn’t drop.

“He came looking for Kamari,” Shi says. “He found me instead.”

“If this is your big bluff,” says Mama Wu, “you’re about to be disappointed.”

“Give me some credit. I know your heart is little more than a lump of coal. But I also know that it beat once. And once is enough. I know of the girl.”

Mama Wu goes still. A moment passes. Her smile is now lifeless, as if stitched into her skin. But even then, it still does not drop. “What girl?”

It is Shi’s turn to smile. “Ah ah ah, don’t bother,” he says, with the self-satisfaction of an elder putting a child in their place. “Truth-eye. Denial only wastes your time and mine. As we speak, I have associates on standby, ready to act upon my command. One word and the girl dies. And if for any reason at all, they do not hear from me in twenty-four hours, they will kill her anyway.��

Mama Wu purses her lips. “I see,” she says again.

“You will not be able to stop them,” says Oluman Shi. “Without a doubt, you noticed the measures the boys have taken to cloak their hideout. Except, those talismans aren’t there to keep you out, Mama Wu. No, they’re there to lock you in. They’re part of a special beyie of interlocking seals I designed with two simple conditions—to activate upon your arrival, and to strengthen by absorbing the sunsum of any living thing killed within its field of effect. You killed Kiira so that’s already one exponential increase in strength. Kill Kamari, and that will be two.”

“You sound so proud of yourself,” says Mama Wu.

“It took years to develop. I am.”

“I could blow it apart with sheer brute force. Surely you know that.”

“Yet I am confident you won’t. You should ask yourself why,” Shi says. “By the time you’ve discovered a safe way to free yourself, it will be too late to save the girl, or Selasi, or to stop what is to come. And now that your team has betrayed you, who is to say the community will not turn on you as well? Whom can you trust? Face it Mama Wu. You are alone. You always have been. Do not allow pride to be your downfall. Yield.”

Mama Wu’s composure has seemed unrelenting thus far. But finally, her smile falls, leaving behind a countenance as cold as the moon. “Alright,” she says, “what do you want?”

“You know what I want,” he says. “Step down as arch witch.”

Wu smiles. “So that what? You may lead? You just think you want my authority, Shi. But you are a child wailing for the flame. Its dance mystifies you, but you will only burn yourself and burn everyone and everything down with it.”

“My truth-eye tells me otherwise,” Oluman Shi snaps.

“I don’t care what your beyie tells you. I cannot offer you something you do not deserve.”

“Then the girl will die.”

Mama Wu shrugs. “I guess she will. Look,” she says, moving her head from side to side, loosening her neck muscles, “you get a nine for effort. But a three for overall execution. I’ll admit I’m curious to know who told you about Saanga. And I’m furious you know about the girl. I’ll even throw in a ‘kudos’ for your little trap. But even if I could give you what you want, I don’t negotiate with mice. There is only one way this ends, Shi.” A flash of crimson light as Mama Wu summons her witch-arm. “With your heart in the palm of my hand.”

And for the first time since their conversation began, Shi looks unsure of what to believe. “You would really sacrifice Selasi? The girl? You’re bluffing!” he says, his brow furrowing with doubt. “Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Mama Wu stands, and as she approaches Shi’s image, she says, “You’re the one with the truth-eye.” She leans in close. “You tell me.”

And then, spinning around, she flings her scythe at Kamari. The blade separates his head from his body in one clean cut, dropping it to the floor with a series of soft thuds. The head rolls to a stop at Mama Wu’s feet, and Oluman Shi’s image—now partly projected onto her body—begins to fade.

“You’re mad,” Shi says, as the light from Kamari’s eyes begins to flicker.

“I resent that word.” Mama Wu catches her witch-arm overhead on its way back. “See you soon.”

And with that, Kamari’s eyes go dark.

On cue, a hundred curtains of roiling smoke appear around the warehouse. Strange shapes trudge out of the swirling doorways: two-headed lions, howling wolves with wings, sinuous serpents with pincers and pedipalps, giant prey mantises and butterflies with flickering arachnid eyes embedded in their wings, a carnival of monstrosities. Hulking, snarling kakai of every bestial persuasion multiply around her with each passing second. The creatures twitch and growl as they advance to surround her.

Mama Wu begins to understand what’s happening. If every life taken will strengthen the seal trapping her here then—

She curses Shi under her breath as the horde begins to surround her.

The ancient witch whips out a strip of cloth, gathers her heavy locs over her head, and wraps them in one fluid motion.

“It’s plan B then,” she mutters.

The creatures attack.

OOO

Elsewhere, in another world…

Beneath an ocean of stars, across a sea of sand…

Atop a truncated pyramid, with a massive floor paved in pearly grey slabs…

Oluman Shi stares at the defunct magic circles inlaid in a stone altar, bewildered by his last conversation and simmering with rage. Just beyond the altar, arranged in an arc, are eight standing mirrors framed in silver and rimmed with glowing Adinkra symbols. Each mirror contains a shadow shrouded in fog. One of the shadows, the second from the right, lets out a bellowing laugh.

“What did we tell you?” says the shadow in a man’s voice. “This your plan, it will not work. That evil shrew cannot be blackmailed.”

“Crossing Mama Wu is tantamount to suicide,” says one of the shadows in the middle, a woman this time. “We should have never agreed to this.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to anything,” says a nervous voice from the leftmost mirror. “I only agreed to hear you out. I will deny anything else!”

“Fool, just being a witness to this one’s schemes puts our houses at risk,” says the adjacent mirror. “She will visit her wrath upon us all.”

The voices begin to squabble.

Shi lifts his hands. “Please, please, illustrious ones. The battle has only just begun. We are not alone in this fight. I have sought some special help.”

One of the shadows kisses her teeth. “The kakai? What are kakai to a god?”

“Not just any kakai,” says Oluman Shi. “And not just any kind of help. I ask you to be patient just a little longer. Give me two more days. And if I cannot deliver you Mama Wu’s surrender, I will take my life upon this very altar before you.”

“Save your dramatic lines for your lackeys, Shi,” hisses the second mirror from the right. “Just do what you promised or leave us out of it.”

The mirrors go dark, their adinkra symbols fading out slowly. When Shi is sure the meeting is concluded, he drops his keen expression.

“Hers is the side you’ve taken?” Shi says, turning around. “That is your redeemer?”

Selasi doesn’t respond. His head remains bowed, his breaths sharpening as the snake constricting him to the chair tightens its hold. The chair creaks and threatens to snap.

“At least now you have seen for yourself how little regard she has for your life,” Shi adds, as a burst of purple light draws a witch-arm into his hand—a silver revolver damascened from end to end in waves. He points it at the base of Selasi’s neck, just above the serpent’s heaving body. “You swore loyalty to the wrong god.”

“Just get it over with,” Selasi rasps.

The shot is deafening in the small room, reverberating against the walls, and ringing out into the wilds outside the castle.

Selasi gargles on his own blood. But as he takes his final breaths, he lets out a faint, shuddering chuckle.

Shi shakes his head in disgust. “Maybe you and that she-devil do deserve each other.”

“Go-,” Selasi wheezes. “Go-,” he husks. “Go…tcha,” he finally croaks, as his head drops to the side and the life fades from his eyes.

Every inch of Selasi’s skin is suddenly ablaze in fiery, red runes. A hundred and one chains, made of candescent platinum light, shoot out from the walls, the floor, the ceiling. They latch onto Oluman Shi’s muscular limbs before he can blink. The elderly beyifo struggles and flexes, but the chains are ruthless. They bind his arms and legs, layer after layer, from his elbows and knees to the tips of his fingers and toes. In less than three seconds, he is restrained and his sunsum is nullified.

Shi roars, spewing a cascading series of vile curse words in Akan. And then he calls: “Kwaakwaa!”

A messenger crow arrives in the lone window of the room, flapping to a stop on the sill.

“Send the word,” Shi barks. “They must move on the girl! Now!”

The crow caws, and flies into the night.

[fashionvilleng]

Amazing Ghana braids hairstyles to flaunt this season

[xtrablak674]

Blossoming Style

I am not Erykah Badu, albeit I am greatly inspired by her entire energy, I didn't come into the world completely formed around my sense of fashion and style. My inclinations were hidden in the substrate of my subconscious and as I became more myself it slowly rose to my conscious mind and outward facing public persona.

The one thing that really cements this is seeing how pieces I have had for a long time have changed in how I present and wear them. Its such an organic process and it happens so subtlety that its hard to notice the changes. I had recently come across a trove of images from 2007, that is seventeen years ago, lets say that again, seventeen years ago, nearly two decades! I have put together collages showing these pieces then, and how I rock them now.

This demonstration is so important for those just developing their personal style, its good to see that most of us don't just arrive at our destination and that there are many stops along the way to get our LOOKS to where we want them to be. I am still jealous of people in their twenties who seemed to come out fully formed, for some of them its access to wealth that allows this exploration and others are just naturally creative using what little they have to put together great things.

2007/2013

On the left I am wearing this vintage polyester seventies shirt with one of my necklaces bought from a Brooklyn-based artisan. Off-hand I can't remember what else I was wearing but we will focus on how I later paired this shirt with some yellow jeans, tan suede boots, a bunch of bangles and another Brooklyn-born necklace with amber and ivory. I am also noting my go-to bracelet this orange-beaded piece that I bought in Miami that fell apart a few years ago, I still have the beads, just need to meet another jewelry maker.

There was a nice refining of my style, earlier I would be more simple in my approach to accessories, later I would layer more colors and textures with a look. I am also wearing Warby Parker eyeglasses in later image feeling more comfortable utilizing my glasses as an additional accessory and not just a eyesight enhancing tool.

2007/2022

I snatched up this Jean Paul Gaultier haute courtier top at the Century 21 on 86th Street in Brooklyn way prior to its closing. I think this was my second Gaultier top, I really loved this one because on me it felt very African. In two-thousand seven I paired it with these wooden beads purchased at Atlantic Antic. My hair is also notable in this first image because my locs were curly, a style I haven't really rocked in years.

In two-thousand twenty-two, similar to the first set of images I have really leaned into accessories. I am pretty sure in the first shot I was wearing a pair of premium denim jeans, and my go-to Puma Black shoes that had similar color as my beads with these golf-shoes sole.

In the modern take with the Gaultier top I am pairing my newly acquired wide-legged pants from Nubian Hueman a company I think based out of DC that was vending at AfroPunk. Italian boots from Corrente I had bought online from an LA boutique. One of the beautiful neck pieces I had acquired in Accra in Ghana from a local artisan. A scarf by Zhuzh also copped at AfroPunk bundled around my neck in a way I had observed a friend wearing his. A silver cuff with a red precious stone I got while in Jaipur - India. An orange Coach ranger pack from their outlet, eyeglasses from Brooklyn-based Black-woman owned EENY Eyewear and this cobalt clip on earring of my grandmother, that I later gifted to my niece after this photoshoot. Last but not least lets notice that I did a reverse French braid with my locs just for this mini-shoot.

Whew, a lot going on here, but as you can see even with out over-layering I have learned how to really elevate a look but also tie the pieces together with my unique aesthetic which is clearly very African, Black and urban inspired.

2007/2022

This coffee-bean rayon shirt from Mardana made in NYC, I purchased in a boutique in Chelsea of all places. On my neck a jade necklace probably from some local vendor, my hair in an updo and I can see this is before I lost my watch in Elmina and one of those rubber rainbow bracelets left over from the pride parade.

In the twenties I bought back those wooden bead of mine, now suspended on copper-wire by a local artist I had re-string them for me. My go-to Havaianas the only open-toed foot wear I will wear. And the pants I purchased from the late Harriet's Alter Ego which had a shop on Flatbush, anyone knowing her work would know these pant's patchworks were the mastery of Hekima who is still bringing her beautiful pieces to the world.

I am wearing a brass bracelet gifted to me by an actress on this Broadway show I was working on and a cuff from Benin that I purchased in Accra. Once again finishing off this casual look with Warby Parker glasses.

2012/2022

Wow finally a piece from Gureje who used to be my go-to Black designer for pieces to wear to my gallery openings. I had him custom make this suit for me back in two-thousand twelve for a string of openings I had. A one-night only solo exhibition at Soho House courtesy of Bombay Sapphire, then my debut in Art Basel Miami courtesy of Rush Arts Gallery. I also had good company because the late Melvin Van Peebles also had one of these made for himself.

In twelve I barely had any shirts to wear with this suit and wore a linen blue and white short-sleeved shirt with it. As you can see I wasn't even at a place where I could fully realize my beauty in this suit that I need to be at my high-school weight to wear. I would also feature this suit at the Brooklyn Youth Chorus Gala in 2014 where I slayed!

But I want to focus on how I bought this look back in 2022, pairing this very upscale suit with sneakers from Diverge a turquoise turtleneck from Paul Frederick a beautiful brass necklace with turquoise beads from a shop on Instagram and tortoise colored glasses from Warby Parker.

I took something classic and made it urban, fun and modern. I put together the ensemble in mere seconds and was getting compliments all day as I was out and about in Coney Island with my niece.

Not going to wax poetic about these African fabric throwaway pants that I purchased on a roadside in Accra. I say throwaway because they literally cost little to nothing and were only probably meant to be worn a few times and thrown away but from 2013 to 2022 these main one of my favorite warm-weather bottoms. Versatile in being able to be paired with just about anything.

This is my one takeaway for everyone who is developing their personal style, have fun, and most importantly always be YOU in whatever you wear and you too can be iconic in your lifetime.

Links

https://www.warbyparker.com/

https://www.c21stores.com/

https://nubianhueman.com/

https://shopzhuzh.com/

https://www.eenyeyewear.com/

https://harrietsbyhekima.bigcartel.com/

https://www.gureje.com/

https://www.brooklynyouthchorus.org/

https://www.diverge-sneakers.com/

[Photos by Brown Estate]