Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

Mother and father rejoiced when I came into this world, but now they must spend millions of Naira every year to keep me alive. 

Author: David Oletu

Many children who were ‘born different’ did not choose to come to the world the way they are, so why does society have to make them feel less of themselves?

Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

The world rejoiced at my birth,

but I grew gloomy in the dark, seeing how tied my hands were to the shackles of sickness that caged me in a shell of hell that fuels me with rage, fierce frustration, and depression.

I asked myself questions, seeking answers that made me wander around like a child in search of the ‘arodan’ novel:

.Why am I so different from the rest, looking so abnormal?

..Why must I live the rest of my life on medications?

…Why can I no longer play energetically like my peers but sit in one spot watching them play carefreely?

….Why do I have to live my life like an old man while still a boy?

…..Why do people gaze at me with contempt whenever they pass by, as though I am a stranger among real humans?

….…Why is my mere existence like a sin?

Mother and father rejoiced when I came into this world, but now they must spend millions of naira every year to keep me alive. 

Come to think of it, did I by any chance offend God in a previous life, if such a thing exists?

I am human. I deserve to live as one. I don’t deserve to live as one. I don’t deserve those smirks, glares, and repulsive looks I get.

Yes, I may have been born different, but I know I could do amazing things in life that those who talk down on me today can’t even summon the courage to dare.

But look!

Even as I wrestle to free myself from the shackles tying me down from getting the favourable answer to my questions surrounding my identity,

more stones of insults, mockery, and disdain aimed at me like the clay pigeon, making me look woebegone!

Since no one wanted to give me favourable answers to my questions, my actions did!

The beauty of nature, It was a soothing afternoon, where the invisible fresh air wouldn’t stop dancing around with its breeze making slight noises.

Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

DOLU!

DOLU!!

DOLU!!!

My mother called me three times from the kitchen one day.

“MA!”

I responded, running straight to my mother. Her voice was authoritative. You don’t dare count your steps at a call from my mother.

“Go and buy Maggi (food Seasoning) for me from the Mummy Twins shop,” Mother instructed, giving me some money. 

This was when I was 13 years old when my mother started sending me on an errand and giving me some house chores to do.

She believed that at such an age, I should start getting things done by myself,

be able to differentiate between my right and my left,

and be able to run errands for her without getting myself distracted by other children playing on the street,…..

and thereafter, misplace her money out of too much play and go back home late with my innocent mind, looking all soaked and dirty.

The moment I stepped out of my house to head straight to the Mummy Twins shop, I felt like I was in a new world.

I started to notice the beauty of nature better.

It was a soothing afternoon, where the invisible fresh air wouldn’t stop dancing around with its breeze making slight noises.

As I walked past the street, I saw and observed a lot of people passing by:

children playing as usual, some women were outside their houses plaiting their hair, and some young men were seated outside with their cliques playing games.

However, in all the beautiful scenarios, something looked odd to me.

For every step I took, there was always a pause in the people’s actions. 

As I passed by each passer-by, some of them would stop or reduce their pace to look at me for a long time before continuing with their journey.

As I passed by the children playing, all of them would cease playing.

While some of them would burst into laughter, others would stare in wonder as though I had something strange on me.

As I passed by the women plaiting their hair and the street boys playing games, they would halt activities and fix their gaze on me.

It felt like I was walking on a fashion runway, displaying some new odd and funny or maybe pleasant fashion sense on my body, because I didn’t just get it!

Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

At that time of my life, I began to pay more keen attention to the details around me.

I began to see people’s faces and actions better.

Perhaps I had been getting those looks before I turned 13, but I never knew because I was just a playful, innocent child who was oblivious about his life and environment.

For whatever reason they were staring at me, I didn’t care to know; rather, I refocused on my journey to Mummy Twin’s shop.

“Good afternoon, Ma!”

I greeted Mummy Twins, who was seated on her wooden long bench inside her small shop filled with all kinds of food items like bread, rice, beans, cassava flakes, etc. 

“Good afternoon, my dear! How are you?”

Mummy Twins greeted me back with her soft, feminine voice.

She was a very fair, short, and tiny woman.

I noticed that She had a very small neck that was slightly covered by her raised shoulders. I suspect she was also suffering from a health condition, but I couldn’t tell which.

“What do you want to buy, my dear?” she asked

“I want to buy Maggi for 50 Naira,” I responded.

Mummy twins went inside her shop, brought out some maggies, tied them inside a nylon bag, and handed them over to me while I gave them the money.

“Greet your mother for me, you hear?” mummy twins said, with a smile on her face.

“Yes, ma,” I responded with a bow, and I turned west to head back home.

As I walked slowly back home, I overheard a man who was sitting beside Mummy Twin’s shop asking Mummy Twins, “Is he a child or an adult?”

“Ahhh! He is a small boy oooo,” Mummy Twins replied to him.

“Nawa oooo, a small boy with such a big head and an old-looking black face!” the man remarked irritably. 

“Ahn Ahn, Baba Akin, don’t talk like that about the child! It wasn’t his fault that he was created that way.”

Mummy twins rebuked him with a pitiful voice.

I couldn’t look back as I walked a few metres away from Mummy Twin’s shop, hearing her conversation with the man, which I sensed was about me.

They spoke those words in a local dialect. They probably thought I wouldn’t understand the language, but I heard everything they said.

I still didn’t get the confusion in the air, as I once again walked on my runway back home with people staring at me.

Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

The moment I got home, I gave my mother the item she asked me to buy and went straight to my room to observe myself in a long mirror that was hung at the side of my door.

I observed myself from head to toe, and all I could see was a human being with a normal head that seemed to have appeared too big to people.

Yes, I was also black, but I felt they were exaggerating when they always said I was as black as charcoal.

It may also be true that I had short legs, but I still saw myself as a child, while I looked like a dwarfed adult to them.

The more I go out by myself to school or to run errands, the more I come back home looking so angry and frustrated.

I couldn’t bear people’s bad remarks about me.

At one point, I never wanted to go out anymore because I feared what people might say about me.

My relationship with my peers was affected; I couldn’t play carefreely with them because I felt alienated.

So, I suddenly became very gentle and timid, from that once spirited and playful child to the surprise of my mother.

However, at any slight provocation, I flair up uncontrollably, and I get beaten up if I say a terrible word or destroy something out of anger

Two years later, after my parents had observed the changes in my physical appearance and character,

they took me to the hospital to confirm what was wrong with me because it felt abnormal for them to see a child stop growing,

or rather reduce in height, and look older than his age. 

They didn’t envision such a thing happening to any of their children.

My father was a very tall, dark, and well-built man.

Everyone thought I would have his physical appearance because I resemble him facially. But, as fate has it, they saw the unexpected.

My mother, on the other hand, was of average height, fair, and very beautiful.

Sometimes, my peers always doubted if she was the one who gave birth to me.

They often ask me whenever they see me with her, “Is that your real mother?”

When we got to the hospital, the nurses did every necessary examination on me;

they checked my weight, blood pressure, height, and sugar level before leading us to the doctor.

“Good morning, Ma,” my father and mother greeted the doctor.

“Good morning!” The doctor greeted him back with a thick, polished voice and accent.

She was a dark, smart-looking woman who should have been in her late 50s by then.

“You may have your seat,” the doctor said, pointing to the three seats in front of her desk.

I sat in the middle with my father and mother.

We watched the doctor examine my blood pressure, height, weight, and sugar level results.

Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

“Who is the patient?” The doctor asked

“My son here,” my father said, wrapping his left arm around my shoulder.

“How old is he?” the doctor asked.

“He is only 15 years old,” my father responded.

The doctor adjusted her eyeglasses to observe me closely.

“Stand up,” the doctor instructed me, as I stood up immediately. She observed me more from my head to my toe and nodded her head.

“You can sit down,” she said to me.

“His blood pressure is so high. He would have developed a terrible crisis. But thank God, you brought him here on time,”

the doctor revealed to my parents, who looked at each other in shock!

That was not the reason they brought me to the hospital,

but they ended up discovering something more, beyond the major reason they brought me to see the doctor.

“Ahhhh!!” my mother exclaimed, putting her hands on her head like one who had gotten herself into trouble.

“The reason we even brought him here was because we observed some changes in his physical appearance and character.” My father clarified.

“What changes did you notice?” the doctor inquired.

“When he was little, he grew faster than his age, but as he began to approach his teenage phase, it looked like he was growing shorter and getting darker.”

My father explained to the doctor, who smiled.

“Well, those are some of the symptoms of his condition, along with the rise in his blood pressure,” the doctor said.

“What condition, doctor?” my mother asked.

“Your child has a rare condition called congenital adrenal hyperplasia, which I suppose you should have discovered since then,” the doctor continued.

“He should have been on drugs since his early stage, so as not to develop any crisis.”

The doctor said this to my parents, who kept silent for a while.

“Truthfully, doctor, we know about his condition,

but we just couldn’t bear seeing our child on drugs all his life, so we decided to take a step of faith to see him reach this stage.” My mother revealed.

“Hmmmm…” The doctor sighed deeply. “Your faith is indeed strong. God truly loves your child. He would have died since then.

But thank your stars, he is still alive,” the doctor said.

“Now, your child must go back to his drugs and keep using them to manage his condition,” the doctor advised.

“However, you also need to monitor him because, due to his physical appearance, he may get bad remarks from people, which may affect his mental health.

Please keep a close eye on him.” The doctor further advised, as she wrote my drug prescription and handed it over to my parents.

Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

At this point, I wished I could face the doctor and ask her why I needed to go through these challenges.

But my face was down throughout the time we spent with her and while I was on my way back home with my parents.

I felt disappointed at what life threw at me at the early stage of my life.

The next day, after spending a sleepless night thinking about my condition in a pool of depression, my mother once again called me to ‘send me on an errand.’

It was in the evening when everyone on the street was out enjoying the fresh air after spending their day working under the hot sun.

“Dolu, go and buy me “a measure of beans” from Mummy Twins,” my mother said, giving me some money.

“Ohhhhhhhhh!”

I grumbled in anger because I wasn’t excited about going out anymore! The world would throw more stones at me!

Mother didn’t, however, seem to be bothered about my unexcited state.

Whether I liked it or not, she would still make me go out, perhaps to stop me from thinking of staying indoors all my life because of my condition.

And besides, I was the last born, so who else will she send if not me?

As I passed through my runway once again to the Mummy Twins shop, all activities ceased as usual.

All eyes were on me once more. It was as though an alien had fallen to the earth from somewhere outside the earth. I felt like an alien.

“SEE THAT SMALL MAN WITH BIG HEAD!” A small boy shouted from a distance, pointing his hand at me and laughing.

His friends also joined him in laughing. I ignored them and kept moving.

As I was gradually approaching Mummy Twins’ shop, I discovered that the children were following me and laughing.

And suddenly, they started singing:

“HE GETS A BIG HEAD

HE GETS SMALL LEG

HE NO COME FINE

SEE AS HE BLACK

GORRILA!”

As they sang, they clapped their hands and danced.

Whenever they noticed I stopped my movement and tried to catch one of them to use as a scapegoat, they would all run away.

The passers-by and other adults around the street were watching the display like it was a movie.

Some were laughing, while others were pitying. I was angry and felt like strangling one of the children.

Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

While I stopped at a spot, feeling discouraged to take another step to my destination, the children came again without fear.

This time, they started dancing around me, clapping their hands as they sang their mockery chorus repeatedly to me. 

I tried to figure out the crime I committed to deserve such embarrassment from the children, but I couldn’t.

My mind was lost in thought until I regained my consciousness in anger and successfully caught one of the boys.

As I ceased the boy, I gave him a heavy punch on the face that made him fall lifeless to the ground. 

The moment he fell was when the adults ran to the scene to try to save the boy’s life.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t save his life. The boy died on the spot.

The parents came to the scene crying and pulling my shirts for killing their son.

According to the boy’s parents, the boy was a sickler; his body was delicate, and anything that struck him heavily may take him to the world beyond.

He was like the living dead.

But He wasn’t strong enough to bear the bites of an angry tiger, yet he moved closer to it to look for its trouble.

And the reasonable adults were around, watching them mock me, and couldn’t stop them?

LIFE!

I think I found the answers to my questions about my identity in their world.

Yes, through that incident, I had gotten the answer from society.

They brought out the angry beast in me that made me kill a boy unintentionally. I think that’s who I am—the beast and alien they saw me as.

Willingly, without trying to defend myself, I stretched my hands so they could handcuff me for my crimes and lock this beast up.

I only hope they learn to be kind in their words and actions towards people. And they should train their children to do likewise.

Many children who were ‘born different’ did not choose to come to the world the way they are, so why does society have to make them feel less of themselves?

Let us think and act with empathy.

Also Read: We Forsake Our True Love and Peace! – Diademng (thediademng.org)

Shackles Of The Physically Challenged Child

Children with disabilities

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