The blog is my personal inspirations on the issues that are dear to me. I am passionate about the rights of women and girls to live in dignity, and transformative leadership. Desiderata inspires me, that I am a child of the universe and I Inspire others that you can Dare to Dream
Reflecting on a year that was: A journey not planned for
“Sometimes you wake up.
Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly." Neil Gaiman
“The day I shall never forget” was a common title for essays in
primary school. Usually this would entail some fictional story about some great
holiday that one had or some major scary occurrence. I wonder why I never
ventured to writing fictional novels! By the time I wrote all those great
compositions and scored high marks in English (I am not just doing the “when I
was in school” this is real…ask my teachers) I had never experienced really
momentous days. Usually it was fictional and a creative mind I did have! Since
I enjoyed reading novels at an early age, I could write many fictional stories
and enjoy the moment of being in that story.
As years go by, real life experiences become more momentum and there
are many more days “I shall never forget.” Today I woke up thinking about of a
real life occurrence that happened about one year ago. It was a Thursday
morning on August 21, 2014 and I had just gone back to Yei in South Sudan after
my R and R break 2 days before. Somehow I was feeling low and not upbeat as I
usually did after a break. I therefore snoozed off the alarm until I could do
it no longer and had to wake up and warm water for bathing. I put the kettle to
boil water for bathing but due to time I decided to go get the water before it
boiled. I was to later be grateful for this minor impromptu decision. I had put
the kettle in the sitting room so I first opened the main door. This was
something I sometimes did to allow Betty my cleaner to access the house when
she came in the morning. I then picked the warm water and to date I do not know
exactly recall what transpired after that. What I remember is that I had
knocked the kettle against the table, water spilt and I slid and fell. I saw
my ankle twist at a weird angle and pushed it back. I did not feel any pain
immediately. I was in shock. I knew I was in trouble.
The houses in the compound where I was living were far apart so even
if someone screamed at the top of their voice nobody would hear. My mind
therefore blocked any pain and went into action. I pushed myself on the floor
up to the bedroom where my phone was. I reached out and dialed the number of
Christine. She has been my friend for many years so when fate saw us in the
same place we opted to live in the same compound. She did not pick and I dialed
another number of my immediate neighbor and Kenyan friend I met in South Sudan.
Gillian picked immediately and I told her to come. By then I was in panic and
it was evident in my voice so she threw away her phone as she rushed. Pain had
started but blocked by many thoughts going and thinking what next? Where do I
get medical help?
Gillian rushed in and luckily I had opened the door so within
seconds she was next to me “gosh what happened?” I quickly warned her not to slip in the water.
Since that moment and for many months after that I had a phobia for wet floors.
She came confused as to how to help. I could not allow her to touch the ankle
that was starting to swell and she wanted to get warm water to massage. Somehow
I knew that the injury was serious and so I told her I needed to get to
hospital. She rushed out and called Christine from her house, and within a
short time they two ladies were trying to plan way forward and get transport.
Both of them called their organization drivers and I also called the driver who
was to pick me around 8am to hasten. We were all trying to act without panic,
rather they were acting, and I could not act. In about 10 minutes we had 3
drivers and three cars and I, still on the floor and needed to get into a car.
It was not easy. The real pain commenced then. It was a hurdle trying to move
me to the car and by the time we reached the hospital the pain was so intense
that I kept asking my friends, “is this dream”. While this sounds cliché, that
moment remains one of the very few moments that I have felt I am having a bad
dream. I had never felt such intense pain in my life. How could this happen? I
was in shock and in pain. By now the leg was so swollen and I wished for a dose
of pain killers. On reaching the
hospital, there was no doctor, or nurse and somehow having had no in patient
clients the night before, the hospital was closed.
I could not believe it. How was I going to survive this pain?
A long journey had just begun. I did not have any idea what the
journey was going to be like, and as a therapeutic process to myself, I will be
sharing more on this experience that. I learnt many lessons, but I am not sure I
can summarize them, or mention the many people that made such a difference
during those moments.