I never thought I’d be writing about my hair being a source of culture shock here in Japan, but here we are. As an African woman living in a country where I am visibly a minority, my appearance often becomes a point of curiosity — especially when it comes to my hair. African hairstyles tend to draw attention in spaces where people aren’t used to seeing them, and over time, I’ve learned that this curiosity is rarely exaggerated.
I’ve experienced my fair share of stares, questions, compliments, and all sorts of remarks whenever I wear an African hairstyle. Some days more than others — today being one of them — which is what inspired me to sit down and write about this.
I have mostly traveled within Asia, where there are very few Black people in general. As a result, many people don’t get to interact with Black people as often, and seeing one naturally raises curiosity. The same phenomenon happens back home too — when someone of a different race appears in a space where they are not common, locals tend to be curious. It’s a very human thing. Still, experiencing it yourself is a whole different story.
I remember traveling through Vietnam and getting a lot of questions about my braids from strangers. The same thing happened in Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, the Philippines, and the Maldives. Hair tends to attract attention because it can completely change a person’s appearance.
Now that I live in Japan, I feel this even more. As I compare Kenyan culture to Japanese culture, I can’t help but notice that Kenyan women — and African women as a whole — tend to change their hairstyles often. One month it’s one style, and a few weeks or even days later, it’s something completely different. Lengths, colors, patterns, textures — we switch it up constantly. Some people call it “Black girl magic.”
While this is completely normal back home, here in Japan it’s almost mind-blowing. I get bored of the same hairstyle quickly, so I like to change things up often. Every time I come into work with a new hairstyle, I’m met with pure bewilderment from my Japanese colleagues. I’ve learned to mentally prepare myself for the questions and comments — not in a negative way at all. I understand the curiosity, but when you’re not used to it, it can feel a bit overwhelming. Over time though, I’ve adjusted. These days, I actually find it amusing.
Because of the language barrier, I often explain how my hairstyles work using gestures, and it usually ends in laughter. I’ve had to explain more times than I can count how my hair can go from short to long in just a few days.
One time, I was chased down a train station by a guy, only for him to tell me my braids look cool. The word “cool” has been used by many people to describe my braids. Perhaps braids seem like a very “alternative” hairstyle here?
On the other hand, it was a culture shock for me to learn that it’s common here to maintain the same hairstyle for decades — sometimes even for life. I do understand the appeal though. It seems easier that way. Constantly deciding on a new hairstyle every month can be overwhelming in itself.
All in all, this is the beauty of experiencing other cultures and seeing how other people live. I appreciate their culture as much as they appreciate mine. We sometimes exchange ideas — I’ve been inspired to try popular Japanese hairstyles (like the bob with bangs, which I love), and I’ve also inspired others to try braids.
Today, I styled my braids into a bun and received far more questions, comments, and compliments than usual. To me, this is one of the most basic ways to style braids, so it never crossed my mind that it would cause such a reaction. I wasn’t mentally prepared at all. I assumed that after seeing me in braids for a month, there wouldn’t be much curiosity left. Turns out, even a small change can feel big to someone seeing it for the first time.
So here I am, writing about it — so other African women can relate, laugh about it, or at least be aware.
