Eamonn Holmes And Dr Zoe Williams: 'Comments Like Eamonn's Leave Black Women Feeling Like Creatures In A Petting Zoo'

Words by Tobi Akingbade

Eamonn Holmes sent shockwaves across the internet last week when he compared Dr Zoe Williams’ hair to that of a farmyard animal on live TV.

The bizarre comment about the resident doctor’s natural afro hair came after a segment on the day’s biggest headlines on This Morning - including the story of Geronimo, the alpaca set to be put down after testing positive for TB.

“Your hair reminds me of an alpaca today,” Eamonn told his colleague, as Zoe laughed awkwardly. He didn’t stop there though. “You just want to pet it, don’t you? It’s very alpaca-ish.”

I recognised that laugh instantly. While Zoe may have appeared to take the comments in her stride — replying "Don't touch my hair!" in reference to the Solange song — black women like myself watching at home instantly recognised this response as a plea for Eamonn to recognise her humanity; to see her as more than an exotic animal he wanted to touch for his own amusement.

During the exchange, which lasted all of 10 seconds, I felt a lifetime of emotions as I recalled countless conversations that left me feeling like a creature in the petting zoo.

I was instantly catapulted back to the time I was compared to a monkey by a stranger on the train, or the time in primary school I was afraid to walk into class the morning after my mum was too sick to braid my hair.

There was the time a former colleague humiliated me when she lost her ring after dipping her fingers into my locks, without my consent. The years I spent physically damaging my scalp by using harmful chemicals (also known as relaxers) to straighten my hair.

Tobi Akingbade)

I did this so that I would not be singled out as an outsider, to escape the historically insulting ideology that European features are human, while African ones are not.

Watching Dr Zoe proudly wear her hair naturally on national TV and — only to be publicly dehumanised — served to reinforce exactly why I have subconsciously refused to wear my hair as it grows from my scalp to work. Even from the comfort of my own home when talking to colleagues on Zoom.

I don't want to have to politely laugh at microaggressions for fear of being labelled as an aggressive, oversensitive or angry black woman. But at the same time, I’m proud of the features my African ancestors have graced me with.

Tobi Akingbade)

About seven years ago, I relaxed my hair for what would be the very last time. A few days later I watched a triggering documentary called Good Hair, presented by comedian Chris Rock, where he explained how relaxers contain chemicals called endocrine disrupters that can interfere with your hormones.

Experts have recently highlighted this hormone disruption as a concern, especially when it comes to hormone-driven cancers like breast, prostate and ovarian cancers.

This rattled me so much that I promised to love my natural hair and snipped off all the straight ends - making way for my tightly coiled curls to take centre stage.

Seven years later, my afro is still waiting to say hello to the world. Yes, it has grown out, but in an attempt to avoid ridicule I have been wearing my hair in protective natural styles. In other words, the actual hair that grows from my scalp (I call her Folake) has not made a solo appearance in seven years.

Tobi Akingbade)

It was only watching Dr Zoe on screen last week that I realised I had been keeping my hair hidden from the world by using wigs, extensions, weaves, faux locs, braids and other protective afro-centric hairstyles, that keep the ends of my hair tucked away from harsh weather conditions.

I’d tricked myself into believing I wasn’t afraid to be black and proud at work because I wear braids and faux locs as opposed to European style weaves - while at the same time rushing to remove my hair bonnet and place my wig on my head before an impromptu Zoom meeting.

I know I can ooze confidence; I've worked hard at feeling happy with my dark skin in a white world, and as a daughter of a lighter-skin woman. But in an attempt to illustrate a point about my afro hair being beautiful for this article, I realised that I do not have a single picture of Folake in her naked state. 

Eamonn has since apologised for his comments, and Dr Zoe has issued a graceful but honest statement in response. But what has been said can not be unsaid - and truthfully speaking, it’s a painful reminder of why I don’t trust the world to accept Folake. 

Topics: Life, Real Life, This Morning

The Tyla Team