
Hair is a big deal in Americanah (the slang term that Ifemelu's Lagos friends will use to describe her when she goes back to Nigeria). First, she must take a train out of Princeton, where the few black people she has seen are "so light-skinned and lank-haired she could not imagine them wearing braids", then she must take a cab to an unfamiliar salon, her usual hairdresser being unavailable because she has returned to Ivory Coast to get married then wrangle over the price then sit in baking heat for many hours, during which she will be asked repeatedly whether she knows the Nollywood stars on the television and, more alarmingly, whether she can intercede on her Senegalese braider Aisha's behalf to persuade either of her Igbo suitors to marry her. So far, so run-of-the-mill, for who doesn't want to look their best to greet a crowd of people they haven't seen for a long time? But for Ifemelu, this essential piece of personal maintenance is not exactly straightforward.



A fter 13 years in the United States, Ifemelu is about to return to Lagos but first she must go to the hairdresser's.
