by Barbara Smith

As a client leaves Jaja’s African Braiding Salon, newly coiffed after an extraordinary day of immersion into the complicated lives of the braiders, she sighs, “It feels like I moved in for the day.” And for us in the audience, it feels like we have moved in too. From the very first moment, Jaja’s African Hair Braiding, which opened at the La Jolla Playhouse last week, opens a door to a front row seat in a world of challenges and resilience in the immigrant community. As each of the skilled West African braiders’ stories unfolds, while particular to their cultural milieu, we connect deeply on a human level.

Written by Jocelyn Bioh and directed by Whitney White, the Tony-nominated play enjoyed a twice-extended run on Broadway. Now on its national tour, the show plays at La Jolla’s Mandell Weiss Theatre through June 15.

The story opens on a scorching summer day in Jaja’s Harlem salon. Things heat up quickly and not just because the AC goes on the fritz. Braiders and customers share stories that are at turns thought-provoking, humorous and emotionally resonant. Bold and brash Bea (Claudia Logan) accuses the popular braider Ndidi (Aisha Sougou) of stealing her customers. Idealistic Miriam (Bisserat Tseggai) wants desperately to earn enough money to bring her child from Sierra Leone to the US and confides her dream to aspiring journalist client Jennifer (Mia Ellis), who delights in her braider’s adventurous spirit, yet is filled with empathy for the losses she has endured. Tempers simmer, hearts open as stories are revealed. It’s an eye-opener to the lived experiences of African immigrants and yet a personal story that touches on universal themes of family, female entrepreneurship, connection and cultural identity.

“To many people, they are just ‘hair braiding ladies,’ random women people pass by on the street; but, to me, they are heroes, craftswomen and artists with beautiful, gifted and skilled hands,” says playwright Bioh. And in the masterful hands of the Ghanaian-American writer, we alternately laugh at the antics of these highly spirited stylists and reflect with compassion at the challenges of those seeking a better life and integrating into a new society.

Acting in this 90-minute performance is superb. Bea and best friend/gossip buddy Aminata (Tiffany Renee Johnson) stay on each other’s cases in outrageous exchanges about men, money and all manner of mischief.  Melanie Brezill and Leovina Charles in triple roles are brilliant as clients with over-the-top demands, like Chrissy (Brezill), a flamboyant Beyoncé wannabe, who enters the salon sporting chains, sequins and booty-hugging shorts, then exits, astonishing all with exquisite, floor-length blond braids, which she tosses in gleeful ecstasy. Huge kudos go to Nikiya Mathis’ wig design genius.

Nigerian-born Onye Eme-Akwari is a scene stealer in multiple roles as James/Sock Man/Jewelry Man/DVD Man. We’ve all known the street hustler hawking socks and watches or the smooth operator/player husband who woos his woman back with sweet brother talk. He plays each of these with spot-on comic flair.

Political references to the current anti-immigrant attitudes are unmistakable and were met with rousing applause. Jaja, the title character, makes her appearance toward the very end of the show in a spectacular entrance. Victoire Charles is breathtakingly elegant, curvaceous in her white satin figure-alluring gown (fittingly the multi-Tony nominated play won in the Costume Design category). She is dressed for her wedding to a Caucasian American, who Jaja sees as insurance to lead to citizenship and advance her dream of providing a promising future for her daughter Marie (Jordan Rice), a straight A student who lives under a false name to remain safe from immigration. Does her scheme work? You’ll have to see the play to find out.

For those familiar with the intimacy of the hair salon, particularly the African braiding salon, a staple in the Black community and sacred space that preserves the beauty and pride of the African culture, Jaja’s hits home. Said Victoire Charles (Jaja) at a post-show celebration, “These are all people we know. When I hear the audience respond to the different characters, it’s because we know them, we resonate with their stories.” And for those who are new to the experience, the play presents a golden opportunity to expand one’s consciousness and open one’s heart.

It’s been said that you can’t hate someone whose story you know. In Jaja’s African Hair Braiding, Jocelyn Bioh has woven a world of characters whose stories we need to know.

For ticket information, visit lajollaplayhouse.org.

Cast photos by Ben Krantz Studio/Berkeley Repertory Theatre