Duru is everything set? Can I go on now? Ooo…I can see every eyes scanning through each words now. My mind is racing, ooo…everyone is wondering what’s the magic this girl is about to do? Ok, I’m set!!
Hello house!! (looking to see if there is anyone around) At least I can see Duru, that tiny boy with teddy bear voice (I can see him in my mind, waiting impatiently for Nike’s first post). Hi everyone, I’m Nike, an ardent reader of the young and confused blog (Duru thinks comment is the only confirmation that someone read this blog, OYO has always been his case),erm… I’m a young slightly confused girl (I’m as confused as my age defines it not, entirely confused like Duru), a trying-hard-to-be-consistent blogger and…what you think I am.
Please note for everyone who thought or would be thinking.. Wo! I AM NOT DURU’S BAE OHHHH! This guy eh, there is nothing I can do to him, he is just stuck to my throat, hence I could neither vomit nor swallow him :) but he is one of the few lads I respect and admire. Forget his confusion, he is a die-hard goal getter, his spirit is charming and infectious, anddd everyone gets kindled and ignited by it. If I tell you all what I know about this guy eh, hmm…you will be amazed, he is clearly a right thinking person (to the teeth) and he can multitask for Africa… but he isa crazy individual with such a great confidence… so outrageous that I do wonder if he was thrown from the sky. But one important thing about him, he is always a happy guy with an upbeat spirit even at the sight of a gun (abi Duru, concede now…LOL)
Whenever I read his posts, I’m always like this is a clear show that not every human is 100% normal, and Duru is not faking that. I see his words as he conceived it in his heart, you don’t lie to yourself, you blatantly tell yourself the truth. I know he has one million names but Duru is the shortest and the easiest to remember, so my apologies to the Duru distinguished family for hurling their grandfathers name just like that.
Ok, I don’t want to talk about how this guy drove me to his neighbour’s house in Festac for the photo shoot you guys enjoyed last Thursday, if I recount how it all happened eh, I know it will spoil Duru’s market… But sha I know you all loved it… and thanks for all the sweet comments. While scrolling down the post, what came to your mind? Don’t lie oh! What was your thought about that girl ‘Peperempe’ as Duru tagged me? Could you imagine the slight delay I gave the crew (comprising of the handsome Isijyne *winks at Duru* and the gorgeous Walase)? Did you know I was meant to be on heels too (sweet @walase gladly offered to lend me one for the shoot)? Did you notice anything quite strange about me? Someone commented on my sandal, that’s the only type I can wear for now (I’m trying to get as many as possible with diverse designs).
This is about a young girl like me, bruised and almost left half-complete. It’s great to have a nostalgic feeling about my experience in Igbobi (National Orthopaedic hospital, Lagos). I can’t believe it that it’s now a thing of the past, but the scars roughly lined on my foot too obvious to disregard.. and the twinge of the painful memories still wakes me in the middle of the night. I remember a young teenager who was brought to my ward, her both legs were wrapped and she could not even let us sleep though it was normal as at Igbobi, we got used to sleeping with moaning and cries as well as in the midst of painful shrieking and noise.. but this girl’s daily screams was out-of-this-world. She had her left first big toe yanked out at the point of the auto accident. Her daily sorrowful speech to God (I believe) amidst tears and loud screams was “God, I’m too young to be in this pain…why me God… I don’t deserve this as a young person…who will want to marry a girl like me?” and such went on.
That was a girl with yanked out big toe, there was a lady with yanked out left leg to the knee. She was a 30 year’s old unmarried lady living with diabetics. I’m sorry I’m making you draw out such images in your head.. and these are things that happen, though nobody deserves such (both young and old) but on a young person, it’s more painful. How does one continue a life with alterations? How does one conform back to the system? The major thing is that we are alive! For as far as the life isn’t snuffed out, there is hope.. But then I ask.. Will things ever feel the same way as they used to be?! The new me now is different from the former me. I have been reshaped by life’s bloody moments, my bones had been reshaped, some of my tissues are damaged and I’ve got to be like that. I can’t do some things I used to do before again and a new different me exists now.
At the point of my ghastly accident, the first sentence I uttered was “I’m dead oo…” as stimulus could relate. I could not fathom out how it was possible for me to be a victim of an accident (no body deserves it, but there is always a reason for everything that happens to us). I lay covered in my own pull of blood, my spirit was battling with different voices (all echoing on my mind) but I struggled for my soul not to leave me. The thought of my mom wanting to see her daughter a success in life kept me holding on to my three beings (my body, soul and spirit). I didn’t want to make her cry, I didn’t want my friends to feel sorrowful (I hate it when I hear disastrous incidents on young people). I controlled my breathing and held on to life. Immediately I retracted my statement and convincingly told myself that “God will keep me, I’m not dead and will not die young”. I hate the sight of a young person been buried, they say the cemetery is the richest place ever with wasted glories and unfilled dreams. So unfortunate!
As I recently sat waiting the call of my name during physiotherapy (as has become a recent way of life for me).. Life hit me. You see visiting the hospital regularly has become an eye opening experience for me, as life’s daring truth open up to my face frequently and I weep inside. The sight of a young kid battling with fire burn, victims of accidents both bloody and bloodless, people with terminal illnesses et al. But you know what… though I’m not the former me again..(just like these so called ‘life’s victims’), the new me is quite different now. My thoughts and disposition to life are quite different.
It’s ironical to say that I’m happier than my former me. The former me usually get aroused by material things.. though I used to deceive myself that I knew what true happiness was.. but I hardly experienced it. I saw blessings as what I could see and touch, not what I could feel. Truly.. It’s only people with strong deep spirits that can have a better outlook of life. That is now the new me. I saw faith work for me and God working to keep me. This was a period when I had no strength ( even food didn’t energize me), I was harmless and couldn’t redeem myself, my bones were there taking selfies and my blood were running as fast as possible away from me. I saw my flesh looking shattered and I was powerless to control the skin I wash and pamper every day.
All through my travail which I vividly remember.. What stood with me was this gentle, soft, peaceful and assuring feeling that “Nike, all is well…” and that is my new disposition to life now to everything.. It has become as simple as..
“All is well…”
This has become my answer to every sad time I face. My experience has taught me that no feeling so pleasant nor so painful of this world, it doesn’t reside here, it comes from the heavens of heavens straight to the souls of the beloved.
Though life can be brutal and unfair, I have learnt that when we tap into the genuine love of God as young people, gently, the bruises will clear and our hearts will be scar-free.
This post is directed to anyone who was one’s a victim of life’s unfairness; either physically or emotionally. To you I say It is well, because thus saith the Lord.
Enjoy the rest of the week!