THE DARK SECRET BEHIND MY SUCCESSFUL HAIR SALON

I have carried this secret for years, and it is time I finally pour my heart out. People always admire me and say, “She is such a strong woman, she built her salon business from nothing.” They don’t know the truth. I didn’t build it with hard work. I built it with hair, blood, and a snake.

It started many years ago when I was desperate. My salon was not moving. Clients came once in a while, and I was drowning in debt. I used to pray for just one customer a day, but even that was a struggle. One night, an older woman came to me, someone I didn’t know but she seemed to know me very well. She told me she could “fix” my life. I thought she meant loans or business advice. But she spoke of something else.

She told me: “Every head that comes to your salon is money. But money does not just come. You need to feed something to collect it.” I didn’t understand at first until she explained that the hair of women carries power. She introduced me to the ritual.

That night, she gave me a calabash with oil and black powder. She told me to sweep all the hair from my salon floor, not to throw it away. I was to put it inside the calabash and sleep with it under my bed. That night, I did as she said. Around midnight, I heard hissing. I thought it was a dream, but when I woke up, I saw a snake coiled in my room. My heart stopped. It was not an ordinary snake; it had eyes like burning candles.

The woman appeared in my dream and said: “Do not fear. This one is yours now. Feed it with hair, and it will bring you customers and money. But remember, every season, it will demand something bigger.”

From that day, my life changed. Suddenly, my salon was full. Women fought for appointments. Strangers came, even people from other towns. I became the “best stylist” without even improving my skills. My oils never ran out, my hands never got tired, and people just trusted me. What they didn’t know was that each time I swept their hair, I wasn’t just cleaning. I was collecting for the snake.

At night, I would mix the hair with oil and light candles. The snake would appear, slithering and wrapping itself around the chair. It would eat the hair, and as it ate, I felt my bank account growing. My debts disappeared. I bought cars, I built a big house, I even opened another branch. People envied me, but I smiled knowing the truth.

But the snake was greedy. One day, it demanded more than hair. It started with blood. Small cuts on my arm. Then it moved to clients. Every few months, one woman who came to my salon would disappear. Nobody ever connected it to me because the salon was a happy place, full of music and laughter. But I knew. Each disappearance was the snake collecting its feast.

Sometimes I can still hear their voices in the salon mirrors when I am alone. I hear whispers when I sweep the floor. I see shadows sitting on the chairs even when the shop is closed. People say I am lucky, but I know luck has nothing to do with it. I sold my soul for hair, for clients, for wealth.

Now, when I touch anyone’s head, I feel guilty. I wonder if they are next. I wonder if the snake has already chosen them. I want to stop, but how do you stop something that gave you everything? How do you escape a snake that lives under your own bed?

This is my confession. Every braid, every haircut, every weave in my salon has fed the snake. And every laugh you hear inside my shop hides a scream you will never hear again.