You ever look in the mirror and just… surrender?
That was me last night. I looked at my hairline, and I looked at the calendar, and I said, “You win.” I finally gave up. I decided to go for the low cut. The reset button.
The High-Stakes Gamble
Now, you have to understand something about Lagos. If you’ve followed my Lagos story regarding my 61 days of struggles, you know that living here is an extreme sport. Going to a new barber in this city is not a haircut; it is high-stakes gambling.
I’ve been terrified. I don’t know their pricing. I’m walking in there thinking, “If this bill is 2k more than I have in my pocket, I’m gonna be sweeping this floor until February. I am not paying in kind, sir.”
But I’ve been watching this one barber. Nice shop. Good lighting. So, I took the chance.
I walk in, and he’s finishing up with a lady. She had a lot of hair, and he was tapering it down. Looked professional. But then, and I swear to you this happened, as she’s walking out the door, he realizes he missed a spot. A whole patch. Just sitting there like an island.
He had to cut it while she was standing up!
In my mind, I’m screaming. I’m thinking, “Egbon, your shop is too fine for this kind of mistake! The aesthetics promised me excellence, but the reality is giving me anxiety!”
My spirit had already left the shop. My soul was screaming Help. But my body? My body was wrapped in that cape, stuck to the leather chair. I just sat there and started praying in tongues.
He spins me around. He asks what I want. I say, “Low cut. Just… don’t hurt me.” He starts cutting. Bzzt. Bzzt. It’s going okay.
And then… the pause.
You know that pause? You know something has gone wrong when a barber stops his clippers, sighs, and uses two hands to gently adjust your head while staring intensely into the mirror. He grabbed my head like it was a bowling ball he was about to drop.
In my mind, I said, “Bro, just let me be. I accept my fate. Just take the ear, leave the head.”
But he didn’t apologize. He didn’t panic. He reached into a drawer and pulled out… The Deceiver.
The White Powder. The “Enhancement.”
He starts dabbing this stuff on my hairline. Tap, tap, tap. He’s linking it up. He’s drawing lines that didn’t exist in 1999. Suddenly, I’m looking in the mirror, and I don’t even recognize myself. I look handsome! I look like I have credit! I look like I own land in Banana Island!
I paid the man. I tipped him. I walked out of there feeling like a new man. The aura was strong. The suave was heavy.
The Reality Check
Then I went home and took a shower.
As soon as that water hit my head… the handsome went down the drain. The aura washed off. The white powder dissolved, and I was back to looking like… well, me.
And that is exactly why you need a website.
See, I tricked you. You thought this was about hair. It’s not. It’s about your business.
Don’t Build on “Rented Land”
Right now, a lot of you are running your businesses on “White Powder.” You’re running it on social media algorithms. You’re running it on TikTok trends. You’re running it on vibes and “DM for price.”
It looks good in the shop. It looks good when the lighting is right and the filter is on. But what happens when the water hits? What happens when Instagram crashes? What happens when the algorithm changes?
The aura washes off.
A social media page is like that white powder. It’s an enhancement. It’s a trick. It’s renting an image.
A website? A website is the haircut.
A website is the structure. It’s the scalp. It’s the thing that is actually there. It doesn’t wash off when the trends change. It is real estate that you own.
When people Google you, you don’t want them to find a temporary enhancement. You want them to find a home. You want them to trust you without having to say a prayer before they click “Buy,” just like I prayed in that barber chair.
You want your customers to know that you didn’t just paint over the cracks, you actually built a foundation.
Don’t be the guy relying on the powder. Because eventually, it’s gonna rain.
Get a website. Keep your hairline.
