In every braid, bead, bold print, and adornment lies a quiet revolution against erasure, and a radiant return to self.
Lately, I’ve found myself inspired by the way women are reshaping the conversation around beauty, starting with something as personal and powerful as our hair and the way we adorn ourselves. I see it everywhere: African women reimagining African hairstyles, shaving their heads, embracing silver hair strands, rocking vibrant prints and colours, or proudly wearing natural textures once deemed “unruly.”
Adornment — whether jewellery, hairstyles, clothing, body art, or scent — is often dismissed in the modern world as frivolous, decorative, even vain. However, to reduce it to vanity is to miss the story it tells, especially on the bodies of African women. Across the continent and throughout the diaspora, these choices of embellishment have served as shields, statements, and signifiers in a world that has too often tried to render them invisible or voiceless.
Wearing history, speaking identity
In pre-colonial Africa, adornment was never merely about looking good. It was a biography. Beaded necklaces told of lineage; scarification patterns revealed ethnicity and rites of passage; hair signified marital status, age, and even political rank. A Fulani woman’s gold hoops could indicate wealth, while a Yoruba woman’s tribal marks signified status and spirituality. In these layers, women held on to history, personhood, and pride.
Then came colonialism, slavery, and systemic erasure, slicing away names, languages, and traditions. Through humiliation and psychological warfare, European colonisers deployed propaganda, teaching Africans to loathe their features, cultures, and identities. They enforced harsh, oppressive policies that stripped generations of women from their cultural roots. Our indigenous pride was erased, shattering the ancestral ties that trans-Atlantic slaves once held with their homeland.
They stripped enslaved Africans of everything: personal belongings, dignity, even access to clean water. Their sacred grooming tools were confiscated, forcing them to improvise — using animal grease to soften their hair and sheep-grooming combs to tame their crowns.
More than half a century after the independence of most African nations, and nearly a century since the formal abolition of slavery, the psychological residue of colonisation and internalised self-hate lingers. But something powerful is stirring.
An awakening. Across the continent and throughout the diaspora, African women are reclaiming their stolen heritage. Hairstyles once mocked, or dismissed as “razz”— like Bantu knots, patewo, and cornrows — are now worn with pride, not only in everyday life but in boardrooms, graduation halls, and on global stages. These hairstyles are no longer whispered acts of rebellion. They are bold, unapologetic declarations of our identity. A proud African woman. These hairstyles aren’t trends, they are declarations: “I am here. I am whole. I remember.”
Read also: It’s time to dismantle the beauty standards we never asked for
Resistance through fashion
For too long, African women were made to believe that intellect and adornment could not coexist. We thought that we had to dress plainly, suppress our expression and dim our shine to be taken seriously, particularly in our careers. Patriarchal norms also taught us that beauty was frivolous and that fashion — especially African fashion — had no place in power or professionalism. However, African women across the continent and diaspora are rejecting that binary. Inspired by voices like Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, who famously asked, “Why can’t a smart woman love fashion?” African women are embracing both their minds and their style with boldness. While delivering globally resonant feminist thoughts, Adichie is often seen in vibrant Ankara dresses. This has become a symbol of how elegance and intellect can exist side by side, and in seamless harmony.
This bold embrace of style is not mere vanity; it’s strategy. By choosing statement pieces rooted in heritage, like Ayo Edebiri’s MET gala look inspired by her roots, the traditional Edo attire from Nigeria, African women are challenging the idea that Western norms are the only markers of refinement. We are rewriting the narrative that a brilliant mind can wear stiletto heels. That leadership can come wrapped in wax print, and that strength does not require silence or simplicity. It can be loud, colourful and African. By dressing with intention and flair, we not only defy stereotypes. We also expand the representation of power, brilliance, and African womanhood.
Adornment is becoming the spoken language it once was
Adornment, for African women, has always been a language that needed no translation. It is what tells the world, “I know who I am.” In societies that often demand assimilation, choosing traditional dress or Afrocentric styles is a refusal to fade into the background. It is a bright, unapologetic “no” to invisibility.
In a world where society often expects us to perform strength without softness, adornment allows a moment of gentle self-expression and grace. Yet make no mistake, it is still resistance. Against homogenisation, shame, and the pressure to shrink.
As trends shift and cultures blend, we continue to use adornment as a bridge between past and present, individuality and community, protest and poetry. We’re stepping outside the boxes we were once told to fit into, using our appearance not just to reflect who we are, but to declare it. For me, it’s more than style — it’s liberation, expression, and a quiet defiance that speaks volumes.
