Thick slices for fresh air
Having slipped on my latex gloves, I pressed backwards, the tip of his 73-year-old nose to illuminate his nostrils; I needed to make it easy for me to see and reach what I was cutting.
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“Ajiiii, Ablah, you’re hurting me … ajiiii … Ablah, be careful … ajiiiiii”, his refrain sounded. I pitied the old man whose nose hairs had never been groomed, trimmed or cut. “Onko, be still, I will soon finish!” I cautioned each time.
And indeed, I was careful not to press too hard to avoid incisions and cuts inside the ancient nose - I didn’t want any potential infections to manipulate his health after my arrival in Accra.
Little by little, I managed to make-over my uncle’s face, by slicing all of the trumpeting hairs which were escaping from his “snout”.
I paid a visit to our hometown on Saturday. My closest cousin, Sarah, had a baby three weeks ago, and I wanted to catch a glimpse of her son, and to send her some baby clothes and stuff before entering into my own maternity passé.
She and her husband live in our hometown. Her husband was posted there to work some three years ago, and she managed to also get a transfer there last year. So they live in her parent’s house.
My uncle was first to complain when we all settled from the reunion noise-making: “Ablah, this baby, I don’t know what it is about me. The moment I carry him on my laps, he begins to cry.
“And why won’t he cry when you look like Methuselah to him?” Said my aunt jokingly. See how your nasal hairs have joined your moustache. I keep telling you, let me cut them oooo let me cut them oooo, but you refuse. If you don’t do something about them, I can assure you, Baby Raphael will never come to you”, she taunted some more.
“I will not cut them today or tomorrow. You worry yourself for nothing. Don’t you know these hairs are good for our health? They protect us from numerous airborne germs by creating a barrier between our respiratory system and the outside world”, my uncle said, justifying his claim.
“I will not allow you to pull the hairs out. The first time I agreed for you to pluck them, you left me with a swollen nose. I still remember how my eyes watered and watered by the time you finished plucking the second strand. I sneezed and sneezed, and bled too. That was how I made you stop the whole exercise. You were killing me”, he continued.
Those two have always teased each other. I admire them so much – they are an item; always in love. Both retired educationist, my uncle chose to spend his pension in our hometown, rather than in Tafo, where they had lived most of their marital lives. They’ve been married for 45 years and have been blessed with three children. Sarah is their second. She’s my age mate and the closest.
Truth be told, my uncle was looking like Methuselah – old and grey. His grey hair corresponded with the color of his brittle moustache and nose hairs. His nostrils looked scary; it looked as though a ball of cotton wool had been rolled into each hole.
My imagination began to run wild. How does this thick tall man with a large nose, blow out phlegm when he catches a cold? How does he manage to clear his nose after a big sneeze? I began to imagine how “residue” could possibly be dwelling peaceably in those hairs, especially, the inner parts.
“Antie Maamle, don’t worry. This day, I shall devour the thicket in that nose. I have a little scissors in my bag. And indeed, I had a new pair of scissors I had bought to be cutting Naa Atswei’s nails with.
“Perhaps, he will trust you to do a good job. For me, he resists the idea. So I have left him to his devices”, said my aunt with a grin.
In the afternoon, I managed to cajole my uncle into appreciating the essence of grooming that facial appendage. He bought into my “sermon”, and gave me the go-ahead.
With the help of Solo, one of my nephews, I bought a pair of latex gloves, cotton wool, and methylated spirit from the local chemical store. The idea was to, after the cutting, dub some of the spirit, using the cotton wool, inside the shaved region to ensure no germ could inhabit there.
To tell you the truth, if this story were being sent to you via Whatsapp, I would have shown you how his face looked before the exercise, and how he looked afterwards. And I’m sure Baby Raphael noticed the change, because later on when my uncle offered to carry him on those same laps, he lay there peaceful as if those aged legs were a set of cushions.
“Breathing feels much better, Ablah”, he confessed in his baritone voice after I was done using the methylated spirit.
Oh Onko! The health benefits of nasal hairs are many. But how much of it do we need to reap their natural benefits?
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