By Ndidiamaka Ede
On that very hot afternoon, I decided to go and wash my hair. I went to my usual hairstylist's shop and it happened that she was not around. I decided to look for another shop to do my hair because I really needed to wash it. You know that feeling after losing your hairdo and just wanting to look presentable again.
I couldn't find another proper salon. But then I saw a small shop selling foodstuffs, yet I also noticed a lush hair attachment label on the window. Since I didn't see another salon nearby, I decided to check out this food seller's shop. I lowered my voice and asked her if they did haircare services here. To my surprise, she said yes. I doubted it at first because I didn't see any equipment for styling hair. I only saw a scanty quantity of provisions inside the shop and then a big table in the corridor displaying items like garri, rice, beans, sugar, peanuts, and many other foodstuffs. The shop also contained a small fridge and a standing fan.
I was about to turn back and leave since it seemed to just be a provision shop, not a salon. But the woman asked, "What do you want?" I told her that I needed to wash my hair but I had seen that they did not appear to offer such services.
"Oh, I do wash hair," she assured me, pointing at two other ladies chatting with her when I first entered. “I was the one who washed and plaited theirs a few days ago.”
"Okay," I replied hesitantly as she offered me a seat. As she went to retrieve the hairstyling equipment hidden behind the door, about two customers arrived to purchase foodstuffs. She measured out garri for one, while the other bought a recharge card.
I waited patiently for her to finish with those customers. Then she brought out small bottles repurposed as containers for shampoo and conditioner. She began washing my hair, applying the shampoo and rinsing it out. But as she was about to put the conditioner in, another customer came to buy sachet water. The woman dried her hands and turned to assist the new customer, who then abruptly left and walked over to a larger provision store a short distance away.
The woman got annoyed, muttering, "So this lady left because I was washing hair?" But I remained silent. After applying what little conditioner she had, she realized it wasn't enough and reached for a bar of inexpensive brown soap. Alarmed, I quickly asked if she really intended to use that harsh soap on my hair. "No, no," she claimed unconvincingly. I wondered what exactly her plan was.
"Please don't use that soap," I insisted. “If I wanted to use soap, I would have just washed my hair at home myself. Could you just rinse out the little conditioner you put in? I need to get going soon.”
At that, she exclaimed in exasperation, "Nawao! Your blood is too hot, customer!" One of the chatting girls chimed in, “This girl, why can't you just be calm and let her wash your hair properly?”
I ignored their remarks, silently regretting my decision to get my hair done at this unorthodox establishment. When she finished rinsing out my hair, she grabbed the same towel she had draped around my neck and used it to try drying my damp hair. Then she asked if I wanted her to fully dry it. Thinking she meant with a proper hair dryer, I said yes. But instead, she instructed me to stand up and moved the chair I have been sitting on in front of the standing fan - which was missing its safety cover.
"A fan can't dry my hair!" I protested. "I thought you meant with a hair dryer." Frowning, she went to retrieve a handheld dryer, the kind sometimes used in salons without hooded floor models. "Customer, I didn't mean to use the fan, oh!" she said, slightly flustered as another bread-buying customer arrived mid-drying. She stepped away to assist them before returning to complete the drying process.
I couldn't wait to get out of that makeshift, unsanitary "salon." First, she had wasted so much of my time with the constant distractions and lack of proper supplies. But secondly, and more disturbing, I felt deeply uncomfortable with the fact that loose hairshed could potentially contaminate the food provisions, yet customers seemingly remained unbothered about purchasing items from there.
Even though I only paid #300 naira instead of the usual #500 for a hair wash, I was really puzzled by the woman's casual attitude toward recklessly combining a hair salon and food shop in one place. Didn't she worry about the potential health risks and damage to her business's reputation from running such an unhygienic operation? Wouldn't the unclean mix of hair services and food sales continue to drive customers away?
As I finally left that cramped, stuffy shop, I couldn't help thinking that doing proper market research is crucial before starting any new business. Understanding what customers want and following best practices for different services is essential. Successful businesses know the importance of providing a quality customer experience - many people care more about that than just low prices.
Trying to halfheartedly offer too many different services at once often means you don't do any of them well. According to quality management principles, the cost of producing low-quality goods and services goes down when you consistently maintain high standards. This is achieved through constant improvement, employee training, and intense focus on customer satisfaction - which reduces errors, waste, and costs from fixing poor quality.
Even though her prices were cheaper, my experience at this makeshift "salon" showed me the downsides of fragmented operations that compromise core quality and cleanliness standards. As I headed home to properly rewash and restyle my hair, I made a mental note to thoroughly check out any business before risking another unsatisfactory experience like this.
