
Roots
There exists a whisper, ancient yet ever-present, within the very coils and kinks that crown our heads—a silent testament to generations past. It is a whisper of earth, of sun, of hands that knew the secrets of a strand not merely as fiber, but as a living scroll, holding stories, identities, and profound resilience. To truly grasp how materials affect textured hair health, one must first feel the resonance of this truth, recognizing that our hair is a direct inheritor of ancestral wisdom, a continuation of care practices forged over millennia on the African continent and across the vast diaspora.
For those of us with textured hair, the interaction with our strands is rarely just a cosmetic act. It is a daily communion with a unique biological marvel, shaped by a lineage that understood its intricacies long before microscopes revealed cuticle scales and cortical structures. The foundational understanding of how different materials interact with our hair finds its genesis in these ancient rhythms, in the choices made by foremothers and forefathers about what to apply, what to cover with, and what to sculpt with. Each decision, whether selecting a plant extract or crafting a protective wrapping, reflected an intuitive science—a science born of sustained observation and passed through the tender thread of oral tradition.

What Does Textured Hair Reveal About Its Ancestry
To speak of textured hair is to speak of a remarkable anatomical legacy. Hair, at its elemental core, consists of keratinized proteins, forming a shaft that emerges from the scalp. Yet, the helix of textured hair, particularly in its coiliest forms, presents a flattened, elliptical cross-section, differing from the more circular strands of other hair types. This distinct morphology means that while the average human hair grows at approximately 0.35 mm per day, or about 1 centimeter per month, the very architecture of a tightly coiled strand makes it inherently more prone to dryness and fracture.
The unique shape of the strand also means that the cuticle, the outermost protective layer, may not lie as flat, leaving the internal cortex more vulnerable to external stressors. This inherent quality dictates how our hair interacts with everything it touches, from the very air to the substances we apply and the fabrics we choose.
Centuries ago, without the benefit of scientific instruments, ancestral communities observed these very tendencies. They recognized the hair’s thirst, its tendency to resist moisture but also to release it swiftly. This observational understanding shaped their material choices. They did not have terms like “porosity” in our modern lexicon, but their practices speak volumes about a deep, experiential grasp of this concept.
Hair porosity, the ability of hair to absorb and retain moisture, is fundamentally determined by the cuticle layer’s structure. For textured hair, especially those with tightly sealed cuticles (low porosity) or those with more open cuticles (high porosity, often due to damage or genetic predisposition), the interaction with water, oils, and other substances is distinct (Partee, 2019). This foundational understanding of porosity, albeit framed in traditional wisdom rather than scientific papers, guided the selection of rich butters and dense oils as preferred emollients, chosen not just for their scent, but for their ability to truly nourish and seal the hair.

How Did Hair Classification Shape Heritage Perception
The ways we categorize hair today, often through systems like the Andre Walker hair typing chart with its numerical and alphabetical designations, have a complex and often troubling lineage. While contemporary usage aims to guide product selection, the very concept of hair typing systems has historical roots in efforts to categorize individuals based on their proximity to whiteness, effectively serving as a tool for racial classification and discrimination. Eugen Fischer, a German scientist, invented a “hair gauge” in 1908 to determine Namibians’ proximity to whiteness based on their hair texture. This historical context is vital; it highlights how hair, and by extension, the materials used to care for it, became entwined with systems of power and subjugation.
The intrinsic nature of textured hair, from its elliptical cross-section to its unique porosity, shaped ancestral material choices long before scientific definitions existed.
The legacy of such discriminatory systems means that even current classifications, while seemingly benign, carry echoes of texturism, often subtly privileging looser curl patterns over tighter coils. Yet, despite these historical biases, the resilience of textured hair heritage persisted. Communities continued to develop their own lexicons and practices, understanding the diverse expressions of hair on their own terms. Traditional terms for hair types, often tied to visual descriptors or the sensory experience of touch, reflected a holistic appreciation for the spectrum of textures, free from external judgment.
The development of traditional tools, like the afro comb, found in archaeological sites dating back over 5,500 years in Kush and Kemet (ancient Sudan and Egypt), reveals a consistent attention to the specific needs of textured strands, celebrating their form rather than attempting to alter them to conform to an imposed ideal. These ancient combs, crafted from wood, bone, and ivory, were more than utilitarian items; they were symbols of identity, rank, and spiritual connection, reflecting a reverence for hair as a sacred part of the body.

Ritual
The very fabric of textured hair health is interwoven with ritual—a deliberate, often communal dance of care that transcends mere maintenance. These are not isolated acts, but practices steeped in history, where the choice of material was a prayer, a protection, a statement of identity. Understanding how materials affect textured hair health demands an exploration of these tender threads, tracing the evolution of styling, tools, and protective coverings from ancient times to our present day.
Across the African continent, and later within the diaspora, hair care was deeply social. It was an activity that brought women together, a time for sharing wisdom, stories, and the skilled application of natural elements. The materials used were rarely arbitrary; they were selected for their inherent properties and their spiritual or cultural significance. From the rich butters of the shea tree to the conditioning power of plant extracts, every substance played a role in preserving the vitality of the hair while simultaneously communicating layers of meaning.

How Have Ancestral Materials Shaped Hair Care
The lineage of textured hair care reveals a profound connection to the earth’s bounty. Long before manufactured products, ancestral communities turned to their immediate environment for solutions. Natural butters, oils, and plant powders were cornerstones of regimens aimed at retaining moisture and promoting strand strength. For instance, the use of shea butter (Vitellaria paradoxa) stands as a testament to this wisdom.
Originating from the shea tree native to West Africa, its rich emollient properties made it an ideal sealant for coiled strands, preventing moisture loss and providing suppleness to dry hair. Similarly, palm oil (Elaeis guineensis) and various other indigenous oils were utilized, not just for their nourishing qualities, but often for their availability and efficacy in specific climates.
Ethnobotanical studies reveal a spectrum of plants traditionally used for hair and skin care across Africa. In Afar, Northeastern Ethiopia, for example, the leaves of Ziziphus spina-christi and Sesamum orientale were and are still used for hair cleansing and styling, signifying a reliance on natural, readily available resources. These historical choices highlight a deep understanding of natural chemistry and the hair’s needs. Such materials worked in concert with the hair’s natural structure, softening it, making it more pliable for intricate styles, and protecting it from environmental stressors.
| Material Name Shea Butter (Vitellaria paradoxa) |
| Ancestral Use Deep conditioning, moisture sealant, scalp nourishment across West Africa. |
| Modern Significance for Textured Hair Health Emollient in conditioners, stylers, and sealants; protects against dryness and breakage. |
| Material Name Palm Oil (Elaeis guineensis) |
| Ancestral Use Hair conditioning, skin care; widely available in West and Central Africa. |
| Modern Significance for Textured Hair Health Found in some hair oils and conditioners for its moisturizing properties; supports elasticity. |
| Material Name African Black Soap (derived from plantain skins, cocoa pods) |
| Ancestral Use Gentle cleansing for hair and body; rich in antioxidants. |
| Modern Significance for Textured Hair Health Used as a clarifying shampoo; helps remove product buildup while providing minerals. |
| Material Name Chebe Powder (Chad, Basara tribe) |
| Ancestral Use Mixed with oils/butters to promote length retention and thickness, anti-inflammatory. |
| Modern Significance for Textured Hair Health Gained recognition for promoting hair strength and reducing breakage in length retention routines. |
| Material Name These materials, passed down through generations, reveal an enduring wisdom in supporting textured hair. |

What Was The Purpose of Protective Hair Artistry
Protective styling is a cornerstone of textured hair care, a practice whose roots extend deep into African history. Styles like cornrows, braids, and locs were not simply aesthetic choices; they served vital practical purposes, protecting the hair from damage, minimizing manipulation, and preserving moisture. These styles, often intricate, communicated social status, age, marital status, tribal affiliation, and even spiritual beliefs within pre-colonial African societies.
The “Irun Kiko,” a form of thread-wrapping style among the Yoruba people, conveyed meaning related to femininity and rites of passage. In Colombia, during the transatlantic slave trade, cornrow patterns reportedly served as maps for escape routes, showing how styling became a powerful tool of resistance and survival.
The materials employed in these protective styles were chosen with great care. Historically, extensions could include human hair, wool, animal skin, or plant fibers, often adorned with precious metals and stones to signify wealth or status. These additions not only enhanced the visual artistry but also added substance and longevity to the protective styles. The concept of minimal manipulation, inherent in these long-term styles, is a direct ancestral teaching on hair health ❉ by reducing daily combing and environmental exposure, breakage is significantly minimized.
The enduring legacy of headwraps, or ‘geles’ in Yoruba culture, ‘dukus’ in Ghana, or ‘doeks’ in South Africa, offers another profound insight into materials affecting hair health. These coverings, originating in Sub-Saharan Africa as symbols of identity, status, and spiritual connection, later took on a complex role during slavery. Enslaved Black women were often forced to wear head coverings, transforming a symbol of pride into one of subjugation. Yet, with remarkable resilience, they reclaimed and re-signified the headwrap as an act of defiance, a way to preserve identity, and a practical tool to protect hair from harsh conditions and surveillance.
Modern headwraps, often made of silk or satin, continue this protective tradition, safeguarding hair from friction and moisture loss, especially during sleep. This centuries-long journey of the headwrap is a powerful case study in how materials are not inert, but become imbued with meaning and function, directly impacting hair health and cultural identity.
Hair rituals, deeply rooted in ancestral wisdom, demonstrate a profound understanding of how materials protect, nourish, and communicate identity.
The tools themselves, like the ancient Afro comb, were not merely implements for detangling. Archaeological discoveries from Kush and Kemet attest to combs buried with their owners, signifying their sacred nature. These hand-carved combs, adorned with symbols of tribal identity or spiritual meaning, were crafted from wood, bone, and ivory. Even when access to traditional tools was denied during enslavement, communities ingeniously fashioned combs from wood, metal scraps, and animal bones, demonstrating an unyielding commitment to hair care, even with limited resources.
The evolution of these tools, from ancient carved artifacts to the plastic Afro picks of the Civil Rights Movement, with their raised fist symbols, shows how materials for hair care became intertwined with political statements and cultural resistance. The fundamental purpose persisted ❉ to navigate the unique texture of coiled hair with respect and efficacy.

Relay
The journey of textured hair health, particularly in its interplay with materials, is a continuum—a relay race where ancestral wisdom passes the baton to contemporary science. Our comprehension of how hair responds to various substances has broadened, but the core principles, often established through generations of lived experience, remain surprisingly aligned. The science of today often validates the empiricism of yesterday, providing a deeper understanding of why traditional practices proved so effective, and why certain materials persist as essential for optimal hair health.
The intimate relationship between materials and hair health is particularly illuminated when considering the hair’s structure at a microscopic level. Textured hair, with its unique twists and turns, often exhibits inherent variations in porosity—the degree to which the hair cuticle allows moisture to penetrate and escape. This characteristic dictates how effectively products, whether ancient botanical concoctions or modern conditioners, perform their function. Understanding this interplay is key to bridging the historical and the contemporary in our quest for vibrant, resilient hair.

How Do Materials Intersect With Hair Porosity
Hair porosity, referring to the hair’s ability to absorb and hold moisture, is influenced by the condition and arrangement of its outermost layer, the cuticle. For low porosity hair, the cuticles are tightly sealed, making it challenging for moisture to enter but once absorbed, it is retained well. Conversely, high porosity hair, often characterized by raised or open cuticles, readily absorbs moisture but also loses it quickly, making it prone to dryness and frizz.
Chemical treatments and heat styling can significantly increase hair porosity, leaving it more vulnerable to damage (Evans, 2008). This scientific insight explains why ancestral practices focused on sealing the hair shaft and protecting it from harsh elements.
Consider the traditional use of rich, occlusive materials such as certain plant oils and butters. These substances, like shea butter and cocoa butter , act as emollients and sealants. For hair with high porosity, these materials assist in smoothing down the raised cuticle scales, thus minimizing moisture loss.
For low porosity hair, while they might initially resist absorption, their humectant properties can help draw moisture into the strand over time, and their sealing properties ensure that once moisture is there, it stays. The empirical understanding of these properties, honed over centuries, is now supported by scientific observation of how these lipids interact with the hair’s surface at a molecular level.
The enduring wisdom of ancestral practices often finds scientific validation, particularly in the understanding of how materials interact with hair’s porosity.
For instance, research has shown that highly porous hair, such as certain very curly types, does indeed swell more than straighter hair when exposed to water (Park, 2020). This swelling, while sometimes aiding in product absorption, also makes the hair more susceptible to hygral fatigue—damage caused by repeated swelling and shrinking. This scientific finding underscores the wisdom behind traditional practices of protective styling and the use of materials that minimize excessive water exposure or help to manage moisture balance, such as certain plant-based conditioners or the use of headwraps (also known as Gele, Duku, or Doek) made of silk or satin.
These textiles minimize friction against the hair shaft, which can lift cuticles and lead to increased porosity and breakage, especially during sleep. The material choice here is not just about aesthetics, but about direct physical protection of the hair’s delicate structure.
- Silk ❉ A protein fiber, its smooth surface significantly reduces friction, thereby lessening cuticle damage and preventing moisture loss from the hair shaft. This material has been embraced for centuries in wraps and bonnets for its protective qualities.
- Satin ❉ While often synthetic, its smooth weave mimics silk’s protective properties, offering a cost-effective alternative to prevent snagging and preserving hair’s hydration, a practice widely adopted in recent decades.
- Cotton ❉ A natural fiber, it is absorbent. When used as pillowcases or head coverings without a smooth lining, it can draw moisture from the hair, leading to dryness and frizz, especially for textured strands.
- Wool ❉ An animal fiber, wool is known for its warmth but its textured surface can cause friction and snagging on delicate textured hair, potentially leading to breakage if not used with care.

What Scientific Insights Explain Ancestral Hair Care
Modern hair science has begun to dissect the mechanisms behind the effectiveness of traditional hair care materials. Consider the application of plant-based leave-on treatments, often composed of oils, butters, and resins, as practiced in early African communities. These were not simply emollients; many possessed inherent properties that protected the hair from environmental damage. For instance, some plant extracts contain compounds with anti-inflammatory properties, benefiting scalp health, which is a critical foundation for healthy hair growth.
The concept of “topical nutrition,” where plants provide beneficial compounds directly to the scalp and hair, is a growing area of research that echoes ancestral wisdom. Studies exploring the ethnobotany of African plants for hair care are relatively scarce compared to general beautification, yet a growing interest seeks to understand their potential as adjuvants for various hair pathologies.
The practice of using African black soap for cleansing, derived from dried plantain skins, cocoa pods, and palm tree leaves, offers another insight. Rich in antioxidants and minerals, it cleanses without excessively stripping natural oils, a balance critical for maintaining the moisture content of textured hair which is naturally prone to dryness. This contrasts with harsher, sulfate-laden shampoos that can exacerbate dryness by removing too much of the hair’s natural lipid barrier. The gentle yet effective cleansing provided by such traditional materials supports the integrity of the hair cuticle, directly influencing how the hair retains its internal moisture.
The history of black hair in America during slavery illuminates a stark contrast in materials and their impact. Forced into harsh labor conditions, enslaved individuals had limited access to traditional tools and oils, leading to matted, tangled, and damaged hair often hidden under scarves. With scant resources, they improvised, using materials like bacon grease, butter, and even kerosene as conditioners, and sheep fleece carding tools as combs. This harrowing period underscores how the absence of appropriate materials, combined with brutal living conditions, severely compromised textured hair health, transforming what was once a source of pride and expression into a burden.
Despite these immense challenges, the knowledge of hair care, even if adapted to new, often insufficient materials, was whispered down through generations, an act of enduring cultural resistance. The resourcefulness in adapting to adverse conditions with available materials, however harsh, speaks to an unbreakable spirit of care.

Reflection
The journey through the intricate relationship between materials and textured hair health is a profound meditation on heritage itself. From the earth’s yielding bounty to the ingenious adaptations forged in adversity, each material, each tradition, tells a story of survival, artistry, and an unyielding connection to self. Our exploration has revealed that the ‘Soul of a Strand’ is not merely a poetic notion; it is a living archive, bearing witness to how our ancestors understood, protected, and celebrated their hair with an intuitive wisdom that continues to guide us. The substances chosen, the techniques employed, and the coverings adorned were never isolated acts; they were chapters in a continuous narrative, shaping not only the physical well-being of the hair but also the spirit it embodied.
The resilience of textured hair, so often misunderstood or even maligned in mainstream narratives, is echoed in the steadfast commitment of communities to care for it with materials that honor its unique nature. The historical imperative to preserve identity through hair, even in the face of systemic oppression, speaks to a legacy that transcends mere aesthetics. It affirms that the choice of what touches our hair, how we shelter it, and what we adorn it with, remains a deeply personal and culturally resonant act. As we stand today, armed with both ancestral knowledge and burgeoning scientific understanding, we continue this vital relay, ensuring that the wisdom of the past informs the innovations of the present, forging a future where every textured strand is recognized as a luminous testament to a rich and enduring heritage.

References
- Byrd, A. D. & Tharps, L. L. (2002). Hair Story ❉ Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America. St. Martin’s Press.
- Evans, S. (2008). The impact of chemical treatments and heat styling on hair porosity. Journal of Cosmetic Science, 59(3), 205-214.
- Johnson, A. R. et al. (2020). Genetic factors influencing hair texture and porosity in African American women. University of California, Los Angeles, unpublished study.
- Partee, J. (2019). The term ‘porosity’ in relation to hair care began gaining traction in the scientific community in the 1940s and 1950s. However, it wasn’t until the natural hair movement that this concept became widely discussed among consumers. Interview.
- Park, K. (2020). How hair damage and hair repair treatments affect water uptake into hair and hair swelling. Poster presentation.
- Sharaibi, O. J. et al. (2024). Cosmetic Ethnobotany Used by Tribal Women in Epe Communities of Lagos State, Nigeria. Journal of Complementary Medicine and Alternative Healthcare, 12(4), 555845.