Whatever I did with my hair, mother was there, until I entered university.
if she couldn't be there, she summoned the hair dresser to our 2 bedroom flat in Ogunike or our 3 bedroom one storey in Olowofela.
She only used relaxers on my hair to make it easier to comb. She apologised for the burns the harsh chemicals caused, but didn't try new ones because Ozone Relaxer was the only one that she was comfortable using, then when I started growing my hair in secondary (about a year after she shaved it herself), she found Mega Growth.
When I personally relaxed my hair or chopped it with a scissors in university without her permission for the first time, I showed her during the holidays, she squinted at me and told me to bend down so she could see it (I towered over her), she kissed her teeth and shook her head at me.
No negative or positive emotion, she just couldn't be bothered to care. As long as I didn't stray beyond gorimakpa (bald head), or low cut, and didn't make a very expensive hairstyles. 
When I stopped using relaxers and started leaning towards afros and twisting my natural hair, she said nothing, but she grimaced and frowned when she heard me combing my 4c hair or the laughed when she saw another comb I had destroyed.
The woman was the farthest thing from perfect but she loved me just as much as she hated me, and in those minutes, all was right in the world.