Sequel to my Secondary School Days.
Dear Diary, am sorry to have left for so long; I have been very busy with stuffs and the foundation too. I will do my best to be up in here frequently.
Sequel to my secondary school days. This is the part where my parents and friends family got to dish out their own discrimination due to lack of knowledge of what it truly meant to be in my shoes.
For my parents, they thought they were protecting me or bringing me uprightly but little did they know that they were doing more harm than good. As a symptom of sickle cell bed wetting was part of the deal for some of us; for me, I bed wetted almost all through my secondary school days, my parents did their best to try to stop me little did they know it was a symptom and I will outgrow it in due time. It got to a point, they were fed up and became antagonistic making scenes each and every time I messed up my bed.
I remembered the times when I was made to wash the sheets and clothes I messed up; as my punishment I will be asked to go to the well and fetch water, even though there was water in the house, and after which I end up having an episode (crisis) all these they (my parents) did ignorantly because they had little knowledge about SCD. Even in the fracas with them over bed-wetting, my meals were steady, the ‘dos and don’t rules still stood firm, my elder brother was never allowed to raise his hands on me, the few times he did he had his reward from my Dad.
During the end of my secondary school time, I had to attend extra moral classes, where I met my childhood friends, two of them; we became close and of course I had known a bit more of myself and started trying to come out of my shell. Coincidentally one of them was also my schoolmate but different classes then. All three of us became close and with my facial looks, an experienced parent could easily tell of what I was health wise.
Behind me, their parents would warn them to be careful of me, of course to them I will not go very far, been that I had a disorder anything could happen to me. Several times I would visit then; the atmosphere will be weird like I could literally see it on people’s faces that the ‘sickler’ girl is here again; I am never allowed to do anything free without questions like ‘that thing when you won do, hope e no go affect you’ we no de for wahala’.
With all these comments and restrictions here and there I could not be free totally with my friends and it made me withdraw further, even in extramural classes, teachers didn’t treat me like the others.. so it was as if anywhere I went there was a dent on me; it just made me hate myself more, cut off from people, become more aggressive, extremely low self esteem issues. That was how I finished my secondary schooling unsure of myself, with the thoughts that no one wants me around them or their children, all of these really affected me and myself self esteem.
Self esteem is a major issue with us Warriors, we grow up with the feeling or mind that no one wants us around due to the discrimination or lack of awareness about the disorder, people are still primitive, and some chose to be mean when dealing directly with warriors.
Warriors don’t thrive in a negative environment or scenarios, the best support we need is proper care, encouragement and support in all forms; it helps us have a sense of belonging, we feel loved and gives us room to want to do more and be ourselves without been discriminated against or judged.
Life is designed for the strong. It used to be survival of the fittest, but the clime has changed, it’s now the elimination of the unfit or weak.
Fret not, there’s good news, everyone, yes, you reading this, you are strong and unique in your own beautiful way.
See you next month.
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