I didn’t come to school to plait hair… I sat on my bed one Saturday morning, fluffed out my afro, and proceeded to cut out neat lines on my scalp as I sectioned it in preparation to plait it. Gathering one section in my hands, I combed it out in one long stretch, held it tightly at the base and began to wind the black thread neatly around it, until I was holding one long, neatly plaited section in my hand. “Comfort! Did you just plait your own hair?” It was one of our seniors, looking at me with curious eyes and wonder, causing me to smile. “Yes,” I replied proudly, making another plait. “From this time onwards, you will plait my hair,” she said and walked towards the door. By mid-afternoon, several seniors had come to my corner to confirm my hairplaiting skills, and before long, I became the chief hair-plaiter for the seniors. Initially, this was to my benefit, as I realised that I was no longer asked to do unnecessary punishments like kneeling down, washing and ironing seniors’ uniforms, or even being made to scrub the bathhouse or toilets. I earned a special place in the dormitory. However, as time went on, my academics began to suffer. While my friends were in the classrooms using their prep time to study, I would be in the dormitory plaiting one senior’s hair or another. The situation was dire. If I continued like that, I was going to fail my exams. One day, I took a bold decision. I would no longer plait anybody’s hair. Picking up my pen and a sheet of paper, I wrote out boldly, “I didn’t come to school to plait hair. I came to study,” then I pasted it on my bed. That was it. No one came asking to have their hair plaited again. Occasionally, I would do it for a senior that I particularly liked, but nothing more than that. Off to Banking School “Comfort, teaching means more school before you earn money. Banking gives you income now.” That was my aunt, urging me to take the entrance exams for Standard Bank. After Form Five, I had wanted to become a teacher. Growing up, I enjoyed teaching Sunday school, and my middle school headmistress had always encouraged me to pursue teaching. She believed in me and admired the way I carried myself. I took the entrance exam for Komenda Training College and, around the same time, also sat the entrance exam for Standard Bank. I passed both. My aunt encouraged me to begin working at the bank, and I followed her advice. I started at Standard Chartered Bank as an ordinary clerk and worked my way up to become the number one cashier. The Birthday Journal 11
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