NEVER LET THE HAIR DOWN 🌸🌸🌸 Chapter One

It was a beautiful April morning in Thailand. The sky was blue and almost cloudless. The air smelt fresh and sweet with the scent of spring. Everywhere beamed with the golden warmth of the majestic sun that sat peacefully like a great Buddhist monk in the sky.

Outside a little house in Chiang Mai city, Thailand, four little children sat on the grass like little monks. They looked calm but a closer gaze could tell you that they were bubbling with excitement. They anxiously waited for Mrs Chimarama to leave the Phi house where she went to pray.

Finally, the door opened. The children, Wanida, Hataikan, Hataichanok and Arthit ran to grab their little buckets full of water.

"Ah!" Mrs Chimarama said sharply and they stopped. They stared at her rather impatiently as she calmly walked up to them.

Mrs Chimarama went first to Wanida, her first daughter and the oldest of the four. She scooped some water from Wanida's bucket and reverently poured it on the crown of Wanida's head, praying, "May the bad luck of last year be washed away by the dew of this new year."

She did the same to Hataichanok, her second daughter and last child, and to Arthit and Hataikan, her nephew and niece.

"And now," said Mrs Chimarama as she grabbed a bucket, "happy new year!" She poured the water on them.

The children burst out, "Happy new year!" and a friendly water fight began.

"Take that, Arthit. May the bad habit of pestering me be washed away!" Wanida said and laughed as she splashed water on helpless Arthit's face.

"Hataikan, help!" cried Arthit as he tried to retaliate with little scoops of water.

"Arthit, I'm coming," Hataikan shouted and left Mrs Chimarama and Hataichanok to aid her little brother. However, instead of saving him from Wanida's splashes, Hataikan joined forces with Wanida and gave Arthit a thorough new year blessing.

"Hataikan!" Arthit screamed and the girls laughed. Soon enough, the girls turned on each other and the blessings showered in torrents.

Nearby, Hataichanok was blessing and being blessed by her mother. Hataichanok screamed with gleeful laughter when she wet her mother's long hair with water. Mrs Chimarama gasped, giggled and sat on the muddy grass in surrender. She drew her laughing child into her arms and held her as she wrestled to get another bucket of water.

"It's okay, my darling. You've washed the bad luck to the borders of Thailand. My new year is blessed," she said.

"Is my new year blessed, mummy?" Hataichanok asked, fixing her little black eyes on her pretty mother.

"Of course," was the reply that came with a tickle, "you're the luckiest child in all of Thailand and beyond. You'll always be happy. The spirits have promised me."

With motherly fondness, she kissed her little child and held her in a cuddle.

Hataichanok felt her mother's cheek against hers and gazed at her laughing sister and cousins. They were all happy. She smiled. In her heart, she thought, Mummy's right; I am the luckiest girl in the world.

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New years are one of the most special holidays in all the world. A new year is a celebration of renewal where the Earth begins another journey round the sun, and reunion where people reconnect with their loved ones. It's a remembrance of why we live and a thanksgiving to the Being who gave us life.

New years used to be my best holidays. That was until I moved to Nigeria with my family. I was only seven years old then. For nine years (this year makes it the tenth), I have had to celebrate Christmas and New Year in my father's home town, and in January. I missed the Thai tradition of celebrating New Year in April. By now, my cousins, Arthit and Hataikan, would be decorating the family Phi house. That's the room where the family guardian spirits dwell. April sure is going to be a splash for my cousins.

New year in Anambra is nothing compared to New Year in Thailand. I love that I'm Nigerian but a holiday with my dad's side of the family has always been depressing. And then, there's my mum...

"Hataichanok."

My sister entered my room and gave me a curious look.

"Chanok, I mean... Marahadum," she added quickly. We had to do that whenever dad was around. I wonder why she bothered. Dad was probably in his study, reading law books and preparing for his next case.

"Are you done packing?" she asked. That brings me to the reason why this was the worst Nigerian New Year ever.

"Do you mean to go home?" I asked.

"I mean to go to school," she replied bluntly.

I gave a low grunt and she sighed. "Marahadum, we've talked about this."

"But Wanida..."

"Zikora," she corrected.

"Don't be silly," I muttered in Thai. Wanida replied with the Igbo translation of the words, speak Igbo. I had heard it more times than I wanted; from my dad, my mama and now, from Wanida.

I frowned deeply. Wanida softened and sat beside me. I grumbled, "I wish mum were here at least."

"Me too, but she has to work in Thailand tourist centres telling farangs (that's Thai for foreigners) about Thailand's rich culture and history. I know she misses us," Wanida said and rubbed my cheek soothingly. That froze the anger I felt towards her for telling me to speak Igbo. She was my dear sister once more. My only friend.

I hugged her and asked while gazing into her face, "Do you have to leave me?"

"It's hard for me too, but I can't miss this opportunity. I couldn't beat the cut off mark for UNN so I have to take my second choice, ESUT. Law's the dream," she said and smiled. I rolled my eyes. How so much like my dad. She even had his nose.

"Well, you're better off. You've always been bold and brave. You can even speak Igbo. That's why you're dad and mama's favourite. You're not afraid of anything or anyone. As for me! I can't face those people by myself. What if they start staring or asking questions or worse! What will I do if they touch my hair?" I was gesticulating wildly to show Wanida the dangers that lay ahead of me.

Wanida chuckled and placed a hand on my shoulder while I folded my hands in dismay. "You'll be fine, Chanok. Besides, ESUT isn't too far from UNN. Plus, I'm always a few taps of your phone away," said Wanida.

I looked at her unconvinced. She added, "As for the people, try not to think too much about them. Yes, you have a pretty complexion, beautiful eyes, pink lips and cute chubby cheeks..."

"Wanida," I laughed as she tugged at my cheeks.

"Chanok. Just never let the hair down and you'll be fine, okay?"

With that, she gave me a hug and left. I sighed and prepared my mind to start the tedious chore of packing. My eyes caught my reflection in my dressing mirror. I stood up and walked up to the mirror. I smiled at my pretty eyes, my pale skin and long curly hair that fell past my shoulders. Mummy always told me that I looked like Ma Baitoey, my Thai grandmother. I had never met her alive but I loved her. I imagined she was just as sweet and kind as my mother who I missed dearly.

I sighed and picked up a black rubber band. With a few moves of my hands, my hair was hidden in a bun at the back of my head. The change was unpleasant but it would have to do.

"Well, UNN, here I come."

To be continued 🧣