Discovering You Are Different

Growing up as a child and finding out you are different from the rest of the family is not an easy realization for any child. If anything, it is the worst kind of reality anyone can ever imagine and accept. Talking about acceptance, What choice does one have in this kind of instance? The only choice I see in this kind of situation is to accept that you are different and see how to find a way around it but truth be told, it is never easy to accept the reality especially when you are a child of two years. Your little brain keeps trying to process the reality but it is too weak and undeveloped to understand it all. That was how I found myself as a child.

While other kids were running and playing around, I was being taken from one place to another for different forms of treatment just to make sure I could walk again. All of these healers my Mum took me to for treatment promised her I could walk again. As a child, I couldn’t understand why my mum never stopped strapping me to her back each time we went out. I remember how, when we were going out to get some of those treatments, she would be whispering prayers to the heavens to come to her aid and help her child walk again. My mum was really hoping that I would someday walk like a normal child but that never came to pass. I was given different forms of treatment ranging from drinking some kinds of bitter concoctions, massages, visitations of certain spiritual churches who promised I can get a miracle with some kinds of conditions but one particular treatment stuck with me to this day.

My mum had heard of a healer in a very interior village outside the city. So one morning, she strapped me to her back and set off. By the time we got there it was almost late in the night. We stayed in that village for almost a month. Every morning they will put me in a pit surrounded by wood barricade barely leaving a small entrance to put me through. They will lift Me Up to ensure I was standing but because my legs were too weak to stand on its own, they would use a strong rope to tie me and the barricade together. Only in that way was I able to stand. My hands and every part of my body was tied inside the little Pit barricade. I would stand there until my legs could no longer withstand the pain. I would cry and cry but no one would answer me. I was always left there until the sun came up. After that, I would be untied. My legs will become so weak from all the forced standing. At that point, bending my knees was almost impossible because my knees had been overstretched for long. This treatment was always done twice in a day: very early in the morning and in the evening immediately after the sunset. At night I always pray that morning would never come just so I would be free from that horrible treatment but my prayers were never answered. On one of those mornings the same treatment routine was carried out as usual. After tying me inside the pit barricade, I was left alone as usual. After sometime, I started crying but they thought it was my usual ploy to get their attention to take me out of the barricade but this was no ordinary cry. Something was wriggling under my feet in the pit. I tried frantically to free myself from the pit but to no avail. I think the struggling and all the Cries caught my mum’s attention. She told the healer that my cry this time was different from the ordinary. She was convinced something was not right with me. She insisted they go check up on me. So they finally came and loosened the rope. The only way they could bring me out of that barricade was to lift me up out of it. When they lifted me up, imagine their surprise when they saw a giant millipede curled up under my feet. Since then, I have grown up having a phobia for millipedes. My mum apologized and told me how sorry she was. I know she loved me but was only seeking a miracle for my own good. After that incident we continued with the treatment to the end but we never saw the miracle the healer promised.

I think after that incident my mum began to slowly come to terms with the reality that this is how I am going to be, I am never going to walk like the other kids. On my part I never really got to understand why I was different. I tried to understand why my legs were failing me especially when I see other kids stand, walk,jump and run whenever they felt like. Most of the kids in my neighborhood too didn’t make life any easier for me as some of them made jest and sang all sorts of ugly songs for me. Some hated me because I was different. Still I had a few friends. Africa has so many religious beliefs. They almost always link everything to religion. I think this is the reason why some African families hide their special children so that other people will not feel that something is wrong with them. Oftentimes, when a family has a special child amongst them, people tend to feel that either one of the parents of that child have done something bad to anger the “gods” and that’s why the “gods” gave them a child like that as a punishment. It was not surprising in those days to find out that many families has had a special child that has been under lock and key for years whom friends and even relatives never knew about. I was never under lock and keys but being different is never easy as you have to face the harsh reality that you will never be able to do things the way everyone else does. The first step to living life to the fullest is to accept that you are different. Let go of every anger and bitterness towards anyone and everyone because let’s face it, sometimes we feel if certain things had been done differently, just maybe, things might have turned out different. Over the years, I have come to learn to appreciate and embrace the blessings that are available to me. I also see now that more people have started changing the way they perceive disability. Many people are no longer seeing it like a curse anymore but rather as a condition. Being different comes with it’s daily challenges but I have learnt to face each challenge as they come.