Crash. Crash. I looked down. My legs were shaped like scythes. Instantly, I knew that something was wrong. A chill ran down my spine. I asked the people who rescued me from the car, “Am I going to die?” They assured me that I wasn’t. Today was 21st April 2014 (aka Easter Monday), I would be fine. A frantic call to my father ensured that help was on the way. I stared up at the sky, thinking, my life was never going to be the same.
After five days of being rushed to different horrible hospitals; each one worse than its predecessor, flat on my back in excruciating agony, I was ready to be flown out to London in the air ambulance I knew was coming. The Chinese and German doctors in the air ambulance, skilfully wrapped me in a cocoon and gave me the good drugs to put me to sleep.
The first surgery was to decompress and stabilise my spine. The diagnosis given to me and my parents was a T4/T5 spinal cord injury (T stands for thoracic vertebrae). After a rather demeaning test, I was told I would never walk again. My mother burst into tears and my godmother bought me a hamburger to distract me. I was in shock, not sure what to do, I just knew in the very depths of my soul, that they were wrong. I was going to be in a wheelchair for now but a miracle was going to happen. The God I served would heal me. This was confirmed a few days later when a pastor prophesied that I would walk again.
Four and half months spent in hospital with a team of lovely, qualified physiotherapists and occupational therapists (who teach you how to live life after injuries) and a month spent as an outpatient were exciting and therapeutic. After being discharged from the outpatient program and moving home, I was suddenly experiencing chronic, unrelenting pain. October 2014 was four weeks in indescribable agony, confined to my bed, popping 12 Hydrocodone pills a day.
We had divinely heard about Mr Hilali Noordeen, an angel in human form, who looked at my scans and decided that he must help. He was a nerves and spinal cord specialist. On November 6th, a second surgery was performed. Further decompression and stabilisation, clearing of the spinal canal as well as a change of the metal rod to a wire mesh cage took away the pain for a time and gave me greater mobility. The doctor confirmed what I knew all along, it was an incomplete injury meaning my spinal cord was intact.
The recovery from this surgery was hell on wheels. For instance, the muscles in my shoulders were tender and stiff because I spent 7 hours with my hands above my head in the OR (operating room). Whenever I turned my head, an extremely agonising migraine would consume me because cerebro-spinal fluid was leaking from my spinal dura, causing my brain to lightly graze my skull. You can’t imagine the pain.
After two weeks, I was released from hospital. It took a while to get into the swing of things but I recovered nicely. A couple of months later, there was another divine orchestration and I ended up at Project Walk San Diego in Carlsbad, California in February 2015. I loved Carlsbad. The weather was sunny and perfect, the people were friendly, everywhere and everything was wheelchair accessible. I could kayak, go to the beach, sky-dive; nothing was off limits. The atmosphere in Project Walk was healing and therapeutic. The trainers pushed you and they became my closest American friends. The inaccessibility in Nigeria compared to America is something that needs to desperately change. I am speaking up for my community and looking for ways to solve this problem.
One day, whilst searching for a place to live, I bumped into Daniela Schirmer. She was dressed in a sleeveless peasant top, midnight-coloured leggings and coffee-coloured ankle-length high-heeled boots, hanging out in a wheelchair with a cute cat on her lap. This was a huge surprise because in the London hospital, I was told I had to wear baggy clothes and trainers. She was a huge influence on my sexy dress sense in today’s times. Dani is still a close friend, married to a lovely man with one-year old twins. Watching Dani gives me hope that there is life after spinal cord injuries. That I can have a family of my own. It’s inspiring.
We went back to California that summer and our adventures began which spanned over two years. My bosom buddy, Hope Olaide Wilson, took me to Comic Con San Diego! I met several famous actors and sat in panels with Seth Macfarlane and the cast of Family Guy and American Dad, Paul Rudd and the cast of Ant-Man and the cast of Supernatural (one of my fave TV shows). We saw many movies at an accessible luxury cinema with leather recliners. We explored Southern California and took advantage of all it had to offer.
My mother was my rock. She drove, cooked, cared for me, helped me with my shower routine etc. Without her, I wouldn’t have thrived in Carlsbad. It was like I could breathe again. Life was being lived at a 10. I met other wheelchair people like me and fostered a community.
We took a road trip from Rancho Santa Fe to San Francisco. We flew to Redding 5 times for Bethel Church Conferences. Atlanta was our next destination. My male bestie lived just outside ATL. What I loved about him is that he treated me like I wasn’t a wheelchair girl. I saw the beauty in life once again. I knew everything was going to be okay. When people go through trauma, location and being surrounded by people who support them speeds up healing.
Perseverance. Determination. Willpower (PDW). These words became my mantra. Being away gave me an overcomer’s spirit. I was determined to prove the doctors wrong. It didn’t matter how long it took; I knew I would walk again. God has already healed me. Human time just has to catch up. Reflecting on the past seven years on the anniversary of the accident (21st of April 2014), I have seen a growth and an evolution in me. Even during my low points, when I’m wailing, in a pit of despair, PDW keeps me going. My faith in God has deepened and I know that one day, there will be a testimony that will touch and inspire a generation.
Wheelchair Girl 
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