According to the Koran, it is strictly forbidden for a man to touch any woman’s hair, other than his wife’s.
One day Jama, the Somali fairy, approached me and asked if he could touch my hair. I let him, and he gave it a few quick strokes. He thanked me and walked away. He returned a few minutes later and asked if he could do it again. Odd, but I let him do it again. He didn’t touch my head, but he took the bottom portion of hair in both hands and began running his fingers through it for about a minute. Then he thanked me again and told me how very pretty it was and how much he enjoyed it, in an almost flustered way.
“That good, huh?”
“Yes, it was very nice.” He said, as he grinned and fanned his face. I snickered, and he skittered away, like a boy who had just stolen a kiss.
The next day, he came in with a broken finger. I asked him what had happened.
“I slammed it in a car door, it hurt very bad, I almost cried. I ask myself why Allah would let this happen, then I remembered that I touched your hair.”
“And what did you learn?” I asked.
“It was you! Your hair is a curse! You cursed me! I can never touch it again, or next time He will take my hand!”
I smiled as I waved at him with the end of my ponytail. “You want to touch me? I am soft and shiny!” I taunted.
“Oh! Oh! I have to go!” He spat as he scurried off.