FROM MY HEAD TO YOURS
Lise van Breda donated her hair to CANSA, and Soeki Steyn lost her hair to chemotherapy
A woman’s hair is a defining characteristic and often the focus of hours of regular, painstaking attention. To choose to cut it all off is one thing – to lose it unwillingly to chemotherapy is quite another. Fortunately, through the generosity of women who donate their long hair, wigs are available for cancer patients.
Lise van Breda THE DONOR
Lise van Breda spent a year growing her hair for her wedding day, and shortly afterwards decided to cut it and donate it to the Cancer Association of South Africa (CANSA). ‘It was quite “freeing” to have my hair cut off,’ she says. ‘I enjoyed feeling lighter. Many people told me I was brave to have done it, but it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t an act of bravery, but it was symbolic: it meant that one phase of my life was over and that, with marriage, I was entering a new one. I wasn’t concerned about how I was going to look with short hair; I knew it would grow again.’
Lise strongly believes in giving back and tries to do it as often as she can. ‘I donate blood every month and whatever more I can give, I’ll give. I’m a stem cell donor and am on the list for bone marrow donation for leukaemia. I feel the one last thing I still need to do is become an organ donor,’ she says.
‘As long as I have a healthy lifestyle and can give something to someone who needs it, I will. I have good, strong hair – so why not give that?’
She learned about CANSA through a friend who donates hair. ‘I did some research and found instructions on their website on how to go about donating,’ she says. ‘I thought you couldn’t donate your hair if you colour it, but I discovered that isn’t true – CANSA does accept it.’
Lise hopes to encourage other women to donate their hair. ‘People don’t realise how easy, non-scary and non-threatening it is. It helps others, so I don’t see why more people aren’t doing it. You can still look good with a bob!’
‘As long as I have a healthy lifestyle and can give something to someone who needs it, I will. I have good, strong hair – so why not give that?’
THE ORGANISATION
According to statistics provided by CANSA, 115000 people are diagnosed with cancer each year in South Africa, with breast cancer being the leading cancer in women. CANSA runs many awareness and fundraising campaigns, one of them being the annual Shavathon where people can donate their hair or pay to have it sprayed as a show of support.
The Shavathons take place around the country at various shopping centres. ‘People phone us a year in advance to say they are growing their hair for us,’ says Lucy Balona, head of marketing and communication at CANSA. ‘Some choose to shave their heads and some have their hair cut at the Shavathon. We just cut the ponytail; they’ll need to go to a hairdresser for a new style. They donate their hair because they want to show solidarity or support for cancer patients and survivors. It’s a powerful, compelling gift.’
For those who prefer to have their hair cut at a salon, the requirements are that the hair must be tied in a ponytail that is 25cm or longer. It must be sealed in a zip-lock bag and posted or dropped off at a CANSA Care Centre. ‘It comes directly to us at our head offices in Johannesburg,’ explains Lucy. ‘From there, the hair is sent off to the wig-makers in batches of 300g. It takes about 10 ponytails to make a complete wig.’
THE WIG-MAKER
Rani Chetty of Tymeless Necessity Hair is the owner of a Joburgbased wig-making company who has partnered with CANSA. She says it takes about 10 days to make a wig. First, the hair is cleaned to remove any chemicals, then strands are sewn together at one end, using a wefting machine. Wefting enough hair for a wig takes three to five days. After that, the ‘rows’ of hair are sewn into the wig cap by hand. There is some loss of length in this process, which is why the hair must start off being 25cm or longer.
Rani uses natural human hair to make the wigs, and will customise wigs at an affordable price. ‘If the cancer patient (or donor of their choice) donates their hair, we use that on the outer layer, so that the hair falling around their face is their own. And because the head size shrinks when people undergo chemo, we make wigs with adjustable bands.’
If patients can’t afford a customised wig, they can choose one from the wide selection of human hair or synthetic ones at any of the CANSA Care Centres.
‘It takes about 10 ponytails to make a complete wig.’
Soekie Steyn THE RECIPIENT
We often take for granted what we have until it’s no longer there. This was the case for cancer survivor Soekie Steyn, who was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer in 2011.
‘I went to the doctor because I was experiencing some pain,’ she says. ‘I was asked if I’d ever had a mammogram, and when I said no I was sent for one that same day. They found three big lumps and I was told I would need to have surgery. I was devastated.’
After her third chemotherapy session, Soekie began losing her hair. She decided to cut it all off as she didn’t want bald spots on her head. ‘I hadn’t really cared about my looks before, but after losing my hair I realised how much it actually meant to me.
I had a very hard time and am still struggling because it hasn’t fully grown back yet.’
Losing her hair made Soekie feel unworthy, and less of a woman. ‘I didn’t feel good about myself and I lost a lot of confidence,’ she says. ‘My grandchildren were afraid to even look at me. They said I looked ugly without hair, and that really hurt me.’
Soekie’s doctor referred her to CANSA, where she was able to get a wig for free. Since receiving it she feels more like herself than she has in a long time – having hair has restored her confidence. ‘I wish more people knew about CANSA,’ she says. ‘There are so many women having chemotherapy who struggle with the loss of their hair but cannot afford wigs. I am very grateful to the women who donated their hair because they make us beautiful and help us feel better about ourselves.’
‘I hadn’t really cared about my looks before, but after losing my hair I realised how much it actually meant to me.’