Who send me ooooohhhhhhhh?

And that's how i found myself on the bed while my roomie Gwen was trying to force milk and malt into my mouth.

Few hours prior to this time i had just finished washing my hair and since the next day was Sunday, i was contemplating what I'd do with my hair when Gwen suggested we go to her hairstylist to braid.

In her words 'The stylist braid na final. Na she dey always give me this my baby girl looks'.

I opted for a simple all back Ghana weaving just to avoid stress (If only i had an inclination of what the future held for me).

The minute the stylist began braiding, i was already begging her to loosen her grip but she insisted she was braiding that way so the hair would look neat and last longer. By the third braid, my eyelids were already touching my forehead. By the completion of the hair, i had become dumb due to pain.

Two hours later i was standing at the precipice of insanity. My head was on fire and i could hear the host of heaven singing the 'Hallelujah Chorus'.

An hour after that, no one told me to loosen the braid.

That's how I'd have died maka 'baby girl' looks.