
Roots
Consider, for a moment, the whisper of ancient winds carrying the wisdom of generations, settling upon the scalp, then trailing down the length of each strand, a memory held in every curl and coil. This is the enduring narrative of textured hair, a living archive of heritage, where care rituals transcend mere cosmetic acts. To truly grasp how hair oiling ascended beyond simple grooming to become a profound act of cultural resistance for Black communities, we must journey back to the very origins of these traditions, understanding them not as isolated practices, but as vital threads in a collective story.
Hair, in its primal form, is an extension of self, a biological marvel shaped by genetics and environment. For those with textured hair, its unique helical structure, its tendency towards dryness due to fewer cuticle layers that lie flat, and its inherent elasticity dictate a particular kind of reverence. Ancestral communities understood this intimately, long before modern science articulated the precise biology.
They observed, they learned, and they developed methods of care that resonated with the hair’s very nature. These practices, passed down through the ages, formed the bedrock of a heritage of hair wellness.
Hair oiling, far from being a simple beauty routine, represents a continuum of ancestral wisdom and a defiant assertion of selfhood.
The initial understanding of hair within pre-colonial African societies went far beyond its aesthetic qualities. Hair was a potent symbol, communicating a person’s identity, their social standing, marital status, age, and even their spiritual beliefs. Intricate coiffures, often taking hours, sometimes days, to create, were not just fashionable; they were living canvases of cultural meaning.
These elaborate stylings demanded meticulous care, and here, oils and rich butters entered the sacred routine. They provided the lubrication necessary for detangling, the moisture vital for flexibility, and the sheen that celebrated the hair’s vitality.
Pre-colonial African communities utilized a rich variety of natural resources for hair care. The selection often depended on the local flora and fauna available, reflecting a deep, symbiotic relationship with the land.
- Shea Butter ❉ Derived from the nuts of the shea tree, abundant in West Africa, shea butter provided unparalleled moisture and protection for both skin and hair. Its emollient properties were crucial for maintaining softness and preventing breakage in highly coiled textures.
- Palm Oil ❉ A staple in many African diets and cultural practices, palm oil also served as a conditioner for hair, imparting shine and reducing frizz. Different variations existed, from unrefined red palm oil to clearer, processed forms.
- Baobab Oil ❉ Extracted from the seeds of the majestic baobab tree, this oil brought a wealth of fatty acids and vitamins, offering nourishment and strengthening the hair shaft, especially significant in drier climates.
- Castor Oil ❉ Though its extensive use might have expanded with historical trade routes, forms of castor oil were known and applied for scalp health and promoting hair growth in various African traditions.

How Did Ancestral Understanding of Hair Influence Its Care?
Ancestral communities approached hair care with a holistic perspective. They understood that external applications had an internal resonance, connecting physical well-being with spiritual and communal harmony. Hair, being the most elevated part of the body, was considered a conduit to the divine. For the Yoruba people, braided hair was a means of sending messages to the gods.
The very act of washing, combing, oiling, and styling was a ritual, often performed collectively, fostering bonds and transmitting cultural knowledge across generations. This communal aspect imbued hair care with a shared sense of belonging and a profound spiritual dimension, extending far beyond simple physical maintenance.
The tools and practices evolved from these deep understandings. Combs were crafted from wood or bone, designed to navigate the unique density and curl patterns of textured hair without causing damage. The application of oils was not haphazard; it involved careful massage into the scalp to stimulate circulation and systematic distribution along the hair strands to seal in moisture. These early techniques laid the groundwork for the foundational principles of textured hair care we observe even today.
| Ancestral Principle Scalp Massage with Oils ❉ Believed to stimulate growth and promote spiritual connection. |
| Contemporary Scientific Connection Improved Blood Flow and Nutrient Delivery ❉ Modern research shows scalp massage increases microcirculation, potentially supporting follicle health. |
| Ancestral Principle Regular Oiling of Hair Shaft ❉ Maintained softness and reduced breakage, especially in arid climates. |
| Contemporary Scientific Connection Cuticle Sealing and Moisture Retention ❉ Oils create a protective barrier, reducing transepidermal water loss and preventing protein degradation in porous, textured strands. |
| Ancestral Principle Communal Styling Practices ❉ Strengthened social bonds and facilitated knowledge transfer. |
| Contemporary Scientific Connection Community Well-being and Mental Health ❉ Shared rituals contribute to psychological comfort and the perpetuation of positive cultural identity. |
| Ancestral Principle The enduring practices of hair oiling demonstrate a profound ancient wisdom, now often affirmed by scientific inquiry. |
As communities navigated diverse environmental conditions across the African continent, variations in hair care practices emerged, each tailored to specific needs. Yet, the core tenets of moisture, protection, and symbolic expression through hair remained constant. The application of nourishing oils was a universal practice, adapting to local resources but always serving the fundamental purpose of maintaining hair’s health and its profound cultural significance. This established a resilient heritage of hair care, which would later confront unimaginable challenges.

Ritual
The enduring power of hair oiling as cultural resistance solidifies during times of immense adversity, particularly the transatlantic slave trade and its lingering aftermath. As millions of Africans were forcibly transported across oceans, they faced a deliberate and brutal assault on their identity. One of the first acts of dehumanization was often the shaving of heads upon arrival, a stark attempt to strip individuals of their cultural markers and sever ties to their homeland. Yet, even in such horrific circumstances, the spirit of ancestral practices persisted, often in veiled, defiant ways.
Removed from their familiar environments, without access to traditional tools or ingredients, enslaved Africans adapted. They found ingenious ways to recreate fragments of their heritage, turning scarcity into invention. Animal fats, available plant oils like cottonseed or olive oil (if accessible), and other natural elements found on plantations became improvised substitutes for the nourishing butters and oils of their homelands.
These substances, crudely applied, served to moisturize and protect hair that was exposed to harsh labor, dust, and neglect. The physical act of oiling hair became a quiet rebellion, a reclaiming of self in a system designed to obliterate individual dignity.
Within the confines of unimaginable oppression, the simple act of hair oiling transformed into a profound statement of personal agency and cultural preservation.

How Did Enslaved Communities Adapt Oiling Practices?
The adaptation of hair oiling practices during slavery was a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. With no access to the diverse array of traditional African oils, enslaved people ingeniously utilized whatever resources their new, brutal environment offered. This included substances like hog lard, butter, or repurposed axle grease, often infused with available herbs or ash for purported benefits.
While these materials were far from ideal, their application signified a continued commitment to self-care and the preservation of hair health under dire conditions. This perseverance held deep symbolic weight.
Hair care, particularly oiling and styling, transitioned from a public, celebratory ritual to a clandestine act of survival and cultural affirmation. The development of underground hairstyles, often protective in nature, became prevalent. Braids, twists, and knots, sometimes used to hide seeds for future cultivation or even to convey escape routes, required lubrication for their creation and maintenance. Oiling facilitated these intricate styles, keeping the hair pliable and resilient, thereby directly contributing to acts of both subtle and overt resistance.
The devaluation of tightly coiled hair by Eurocentric beauty standards was a cornerstone of the oppressive system. African hair, labelled “woolly” or “kinky,” was deemed incompatible with beauty, creating an internalized perception of inferiority that unfortunately continues to echo through generations. By meticulously caring for their natural textures, despite the pervasive negative messaging, Black individuals asserted the inherent beauty and worth of their heritage. Oiling their hair was a tangible way to defy the imposed aesthetic hierarchy.
Consider the Tignon Law of 1786 in Louisiana, which mandated that free Black and multiracial women cover their hair with a tignon or kerchief in public. This law aimed to curb their perceived social climbing and distinguish them from white women. However, these women transformed the forced head coverings into elaborate, fashionable statements, often featuring artfully arranged fabrics that hinted at the elaborate hair beneath. The very act of maintaining healthy, oiled hair beneath these wraps was a private, personal act of resistance against enforced modesty and inferiority, preserving a cultural connection that could not be legislated away.
The continuity of these practices, however modified, ensured that a vital piece of African heritage survived the Middle Passage. It became a quiet, yet powerful, means of retaining personhood and challenging the dehumanizing forces of slavery. Hair oiling, therefore, was not merely about conditioning hair; it was about nurturing a spirit of defiance, connecting with ancestry, and asserting a visual identity when every effort was made to erase it. This enduring ritual laid the groundwork for future generations to reclaim and celebrate their textured hair heritage.

Relay
The journey of hair oiling as cultural resistance did not cease with emancipation; rather, it transformed, adapting to new forms of societal pressure and becoming a cornerstone of the burgeoning Black self-care and beauty industry. Post-slavery, the push to assimilate into dominant Eurocentric society often meant adopting straighter hair textures for social acceptance and economic opportunity. Yet, beneath the surface of straightened styles, and increasingly in defiance of them, the practice of oiling remained a constant, linking past traditions to evolving present needs.
The early 20th century saw the rise of Black women entrepreneurs, notably Madame C.J. Walker, who built empires around hair care products specifically for Black hair. While some of these products facilitated straightening, they also brought accessible methods of cleansing, conditioning, and oiling to wider communities, recognizing the unique needs of textured hair. These innovations, though sometimes navigating complex beauty ideals, inadvertently kept the heritage of hair care alive by addressing the practical challenges of maintaining Black hair’s health, irrespective of styling choice.
Hair oiling, from ancestral wisdom to modern affirmation, consistently serves as a quiet declaration of identity and a link to a resilient heritage.

How Did Hair Oiling Re-Emerge as Overt Resistance?
The mid-20th century, particularly the 1960s and 1970s, witnessed a profound resurgence of natural hair as a political and cultural statement, often termed the ‘Black is Beautiful’ movement. The Afro hairstyle, a voluminous crown of natural texture, became a powerful symbol of Black pride, empowerment, and defiance against the long-imposed Eurocentric beauty standards. Within this movement, hair oiling, alongside other traditional care practices, became a visible act of resistance. It directly supported the health and vitality of these natural styles, affirming that tightly coiled hair was not only acceptable but inherently beautiful and worthy of diligent care.
Choosing to nourish natural hair with oils like jojoba, shea butter, or coconut oil, as many Black women did, became an act of directly opposing beauty norms that glorified straight hair. For instance, the growing prominence of natural indigenous oils in the 1970s, as a direct alternative to synthetic products or straightening chemicals, allowed Black women to align their beauty practices with a deeper embrace of cultural authenticity. This conscious selection of traditional ingredients served as a quiet, yet powerful, rejection of conformity.
The connection between traditional ingredients and scientific understanding offers profound validation of ancestral wisdom.
- Jojoba Oil ❉ While originating in indigenous American cultures, its functional similarity to the scalp’s natural sebum made it a logical fit for Black hair care. Its properties as an exceptional moisturizer and scalp hydrator resonated strongly with Black beauty traditions focused on nourishing and protective care.
- Coconut Oil ❉ Long utilized in tropical regions, including parts of Africa, its molecular structure allows it to penetrate the hair shaft, reducing protein loss and providing deep conditioning, benefits recognized by both ancestral practice and modern science.
- African Black Soap ❉ Though not an oil, its traditional formulation with plantain skins, cocoa pods, and shea butter provided a cleansing foundation that respected the hair’s natural oils, contrasting sharply with harsh, stripping commercial shampoos designed for different hair types.
The contemporary natural hair movement, gaining renewed momentum in the 2000s, further solidified hair oiling’s place as a pillar of cultural resistance. It champions the diverse spectrum of Black hair textures, encouraging individuals to abandon chemical straighteners and cultivate healthier hair care practices. This movement is not simply about aesthetics; it embodies a holistic philosophy that links hair health to mental well-being, self-acceptance, and a powerful reconnection with ancestral roots. Hair oiling, a practice that spans centuries and continents, stands as a tangible link in this ongoing narrative.
It is estimated that between 30% and 70% of all Black women in the United States currently wear their hair naturally, a figure that includes approximately 79% of millennial Black women under 30 years old. This statistic underscores a significant shift in beauty standards and a widespread cultural reclamation. This embrace of natural texture necessitates a return to care practices, like oiling, that support the unique needs of textured hair, effectively making these heritage practices mainstream within the community.
The ritual of hair oiling today stands as a living heritage, a testament to endurance and a deliberate choice to honor one’s natural self. It represents a continuity of care that defies historical attempts at erasure, evolving from a clandestine act of survival to a public declaration of pride. This practice continues to shape how textured hair is perceived and celebrated, extending its reach as a symbol of identity and cultural freedom.

Reflection
The journey of hair oiling through the annals of Black communal experience is more than a historical footnote; it is a profound testament to the living, breathing archive that is textured hair heritage. Each strand, from root to tip, carries the echoes of resilience, adaptation, and an unwavering commitment to self. Hair oiling, an ancient practice, has consistently served as a subtle yet powerful act of cultural resistance, a defiant affirmation of identity in the face of systemic efforts to diminish it.
From the meticulous rituals of pre-colonial Africa, where oils adorned hair that spoke volumes of status and spirit, to the whispered, clandestine applications during the brutal era of enslavement – a desperate, dignified attempt to hold onto personhood – and finally, to its modern resurgence as a celebrated cornerstone of natural hair movements, oiling has been a constant. It represents a continuous thread, connecting generations across time and geography, nurturing not just the hair itself, but the soul entwined within each coil.
Roothea’s ethos, recognizing the ‘Soul of a Strand,’ finds its deepest validation in this heritage. It understands that care for textured hair is not merely cosmetic; it is an act of historical remembrance, a daily reverence for ancestral wisdom, and a powerful declaration for future generations. The enduring presence of hair oiling in Black communities speaks to an inherent strength, a refusal to relinquish connection to the past, and an ongoing shaping of identity on one’s own terms. This legacy, rich with purpose and deeply personal, ensures the heritage of textured hair remains vibrantly alive, a beacon of self-love and cultural pride.

References
- Abdullah, M. S. (1998). The Psychology of Black Hair ❉ A Cultural Perspective. Black Psychology Press.
- Banks, I. (2000). Hair ❉ A Cultural History. W. W. Norton & Company.
- Patton, T. O. (2010). Black Women in Hollywood ❉ White Aesthetics and Cinematic Representation. Rutgers University Press.
- Robinson, J. S. (2011). The Hair Culture of African American Women ❉ Its Historical, Social, and Psychological Significance. Peter Lang Inc. International Academic Publishers.
- Thompson, C. (2009). Black Women, Beauty, and Fashion ❉ The Politics of Appearance. Palgrave Macmillan.
- Walker, A. (2009). Madam C. J. Walker ❉ The Life and Legacy of the Million-Dollar Hair Care Entrepreneur. Amber Books.
- Lewis, M. G. (1834). Journal of a West India Proprietor ❉ Kept During a Residence in the Island of Jamaica. John Murray. (Referenced for context on enslaved women’s conditions)
- Dadzie, S. (2020). A Kick in the Belly ❉ Women, Slavery, and Resistance. Verso.