Booked & Scene

Written by Jocelyn Bioh and directed by Summer L. Williams, Jaja’s African Hair Braiding brings audiences into the heartbeat of a Harlem salon on one sweltering July day. As customers come and go, stylists braid and gossip, and tensions simmer, what unfolds is a rich exploration of a day filled with community, culture, and connection. Jaja’s is filled with quick-witted banter and deeply moving emotional moments, this play captures the daily beauty and unseen burdens that sit in the chairs of places like Jaja’s.

Stars Among the Strands

Dry Sky Berrian, playing Marie—the teenage daughter of the salon’s elusive owner—anchors the show with a quiet strength that commands attention. As the unofficial manager, Marie keeps the shop running as she navigates both the chaos of the day and her own emotions. Dru’s performance is grounded, magnetic, and deeply compelling. While surrounded by a cast of big personalities, Dru’s quiet presence sings, and her journey throughout the day is nothing short of captivating. She’s onstage for nearly the entire performance, and never once loses the audience’s trust or attention. Even when not in the spotlight of the scene, I often found myself glancing over to see how her character was reacting to the chaos happening around her. 

Another powerhouse in this production is Crystal Gilmore as Bea, one of the salon’s older stylists. Gilmore brings heartbreaking nuance to a character who’s been through the wringer—marriages, heartbreak, and the slow fade and realization of potentially being considered “past her prime.” There’s a raw honesty to Bea’s arc that contrasts beautifully with Marie’s youthful determination and hope. By the end of the play, their connection feels full-circle, and Gilmore delivers a performance that’s tough, tender, and unforgettable.

Scene Stealers and Shape-Shifters

Catia as Ndidi is, unsurprisingly, an absolute delight to watch. Every time she steps on stage, her vibrant energy, sharp comedic timing, and a fully realized character make her a joy to witness. She infuses Ndidi with flair, confidence, and just the right amount of chaotic charm.

And then there’s the trio of multi-role scene stealers: Ashley Aldaronda (Vanessa, Radia, Sheila), Yasmeen Duncan (Michelle, Chrissy, Laniece), and Joshua Olumide (James, Sock Man, Jewelry Man, DVD Man). Between them, they portray ten characters—each distinct, fully realized, and often hilarious. Watching them transform so seamlessly, switch accents, and bring such varied personalities to life is pure theatrical magic. It’s a masterclass in character work, and each one deserves a standing ovation.

Braids, Beauty, and Behind-the-Scenes Brilliance

It would be impossible to talk about this show without highlighting the extraordinary wig and hair design by Nadja Vanterpool. This is a show that lives and breathes hair—it’s in the title, the text, and a significant part of the tension. From partially braided styles mid-process to intricate final reveals, the hair on stage tells its own story. The realism of watching live braiding unfold added a tactile, immersive layer to the entire experience.

Bioh herself has emphasized how important it was for the actors to understand the artistry and the labor of hair braiding—and that dedication shows. To read in the program that the braiding was real and then watch it happen live on stage? Absolutely mesmerizing. Vanterpool’s work, along with the actors’ commitment to learning this skill, elevates the entire production.

Picture-Perfect, with a Few Frayed Edges

Janie E. Howland’s scenic design is an absolute triumph. From the hand-painted signage to the weathered, well-worn feel of the salon’s interior, the set feels completely lived in. Every detail, from the counters to the spray-painted “Jaja’s African Hair Braiding” sign, feels intentional, real, and full of heart. It might just be one of the most fully realized set designs I’ve seen at SpeakEasy in recent years.

While the production overall moves at a quick clip and engaging pace, there were a few moments where the energy dipped. Some scenes felt out of sync with the otherwise fast-moving rhythm of the day. Additionally, the play’s attempts to indicate the passing of time felt a little disjointed—different techniques were utilized, but none quite landed as cohesively as the rest of the show’s elements. These minor missteps in an otherwise strong piece are worth noting.

Final Take: A Love Letter to Resilience

Jaja’s African Hair Braiding is a powerful, poignant, and timely piece that celebrates the beauty and complexity of community spaces—particularly those that are often overlooked. It’s a play about identity, legacy, survival, and chosen family. Amid the laughter and the drama, it’s ultimately a reminder of the invisible stories people carry and how the people around us—especially in places like Jaja’s—can lift us up, even when we don’t ask.

This is a story we need in 2025. A vibrant, human, and heartfelt reminder that there is always more beneath the surface—and someone nearby who might just help you keep it all together.