The Relegation of Traditional Hairstyles in Nigeria
Koroba Braids photographed by David Eluwole
In a country as culturally dense as Nigeria, hairstyles are quite significant. They are a form of identity, social expressions and some fo them are spiritually significant.
There is Shuku, Koroba, Didi, Patewo, Kiko, thread, wool, Isi owu, and many other hairstyles, all important and sometimes (depending on the hairstyle) specific to certain tribes.
These hairstyles can be worn during festivals, weddings, or coming-of-age ceremonies. Traditional hairstyles once held a central place in everyday Nigerian life. But today, those once-proud crowns are increasingly being pushed aside, viewed by many as “old-fashioned” or “unprofessional.”
This shift raises a necessary question: Why are traditional hairstyles being relegated to the background in a society that once celebrated them?
Cultural Significance of Traditional Hairstyles
Historically, hairstyles among various Nigerian ethnic groups were deeply symbolic. They reflected a person’s tribe, marital status, social class, age group, or even spiritual beliefs. In Yoruba culture, for example, Shuku ologede, which is a different form of the regular Shuku, was worn by Queens.
Shuku Ologede
Among the Igbo, styles like Ichaka and Isi Owu were passed down through generations and tied closely to feminine beauty and identity.
For young girls and boys, hairstyles like didi, koroba, and threading were not just for beautification. They were functional; they were used to keep the hair in good condition despite the weather. These styles were also used to grow long hair, which some cultures believed was a sign that one was healthy and fertile.
Certain hairstyles were also created by palace servants to facilitate the identification of the kingdom and the king they served.
In many ways, our hair was a map of our culture. But somewhere along the way, that map started fading.
The Rise of Western Influence
The relegation of traditional hairstyles didn’t happen overnight. It was, and still is, a byproduct of colonial influence, Eurocentric beauty standards, and later, global media representation. During and after colonialism, the notion of “professional” or “presentable” became closely associated with relaxed hair, weaves, and later, wigs.
In schools and workplaces, natural or certain traditional hairstyles were often deemed “untidy” or “low-class.” Girls were ridiculed for wearing threaded hair. Men were scorned for even making their hair at all.
Women were made to feel unpolished if they didn’t conform to straight hair norms. And slowly but surely, traditional hairstyles began to be seen as less elegant, less fashionable, and less modern.
Religion and capitalism also played a factor in the relegation of traditional hairstyles. Dreads, which usually had very high spiritual significance, were looked upon as filthy and ungodly. Children who attended government-owned primary and secondary schools were made to cut their hair to a short length.
But children in privately-owned primary and secondary schools were allowed to keep their hair long.
Even in Nollywood, for a long time, the women in powerful roles wore weaves, or wigs, while those playing the roles of villagers or housemaids wore traditional hairstyles. Subtly reinforcing a hierarchy of beauty.
Economic Factors and Urbanization
Let’s not forget the role of convenience and access. With the rise of fast-paced urban living, traditional hairstyles that can be time-consuming to braid or thread fell out of favor. A full threading session could take hours and require skill, patience, and pain tolerance. Meanwhile, wigs and weaves offered a quicker, easier alternative.
Also, the informal economy around traditional hairstyling has not been as commercialised or promoted as the human hair and beauty industry, which is now a multi-million-naira enterprise. As salons adapted to meet popular demand, fewer young stylists learned how to do traditional braids or threading, causing the skill to slowly fade.
The Loss of Cultural Pride
Perhaps the most heartbreaking aspect of this relegation is how it reflects a subtle loss of cultural pride. When young girls say things like “I don’t want to look local” or “threading makes me look like a village girl,” it reveals how deeply the disconnection runs. These aren’t just personal preferences; they’re the results of years of social conditioning.
Our hairstyles should never be a source of shame. They are our heritage, our stories, and our art. Yet, many Nigerians now only wear them during cultural day in school, or as a costume for themed events, rather than as valid everyday choices.
The Quiet Comeback
Despite the odds, traditional hairstyles are beginning to see a quiet resurgence. Thanks to the natural hair movement, cultural activists, fashion influencers, and celebrities who are reclaiming their roots, styles like shuku, threading (kiko), and patewo are making a stylish comeback.
Styles like pick and drop, all-back, and one-one are getting modern names like knotless, watermelon braids, cornrows, French curls, Fulani braids, boho braids, etc.
Fulani Braids
Social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok are playing a huge role in this revival. Hair stylists are showcasing modern twists on traditional braids, combining old techniques with contemporary flair. Designers are pairing these hairstyles with couture pieces. Brides are choosing them for traditional weddings. And parents are beginning to embrace them again for their daughters and sons.
But for this comeback to be sustainable, we need more than trend cycles; we need intentional preservation.
Preserving the Culture
To truly restore the value of traditional Nigerian hairstyles, we must:
Educate children on their cultural significance in schools.
Support local stylists who still practice traditional methods.
Feature traditional hairstyles in mainstream media, not just as “heritage looks” but as everyday styles.
Challenge beauty norms in corporate and educational settings that label these styles as unprofessional.
It’s time to move beyond performative cultural appreciation and invest in real cultural restoration. Teach our children to see their natural hair and styles as beautiful, powerful, and worthy.
The relegation of traditional hairstyles in Nigeria isn’t just a beauty issue; it’s a cultural one. By sidelining these styles, we risk losing the stories, artistry, and identity they carry. But the good news is that it’s not too late. Every thread, every braid, every knot can still be a quiet act of resistance and a bold statement of pride.
Because our hair is not just fashion, it’s a legacy.