A torment worse than your ordinary torment
When little I vividly remember the evenings when I would have pain on the legs and on the joints. Guka would bandage the foot and the pain would gradually subside. He was a clinical officer you see with a bias to children ailments.
My mum, my angel and my rock has literally walked with me on this painful journey. She has carried me on her back to school and around the homestead when the pain got unbearable. She has watched helplessly as her once beautiful and normal daughter 's body gave in to deformity right under her nose.
She has gone through all hospitals and religious doors in search of healing for her youngest daughter. She never once lost hope even to date. It took the doctors a long time to discover that I was suffering from arthritis which then was considered as 'ugonjwa ya wazee'
The torment was real as I writhed in bed while the joints got hot with pain, torment was written all over my mum's face whenever she saw pain torment me.
I would have joint pains in the mornings before the sun rose and after sunset. Otherwise, during the day I would be jumping, running and climbing trees all over to the confusion of people around me. They concluded that I was pretending to attract attention and sympathy which was not the case, at least not always. On good days I got good beatings on the same.
Torment was real when my own blood sister and a relative called me a cripple. As much as it was true, it hurt like hell. They are the same people I expected moral support and protection from and yet they were my real tormentors, tearing my already hurting heart into a million messy pieces. Bile was born and years later, I can still taste it in my mouth.
During my lower primary school I had a friend, or rather thought I had a friend until that day she called me a cripple. The torment was bad and it really Injured my ego, self esteem and inner being. You see I was really struggling to come into terms with the new developments in my body. I felt betrayed.
I couldn't quite accept that I couldn't do things for myself like before. I couldn't do things I previously enjoyed because every single movement I made translated to intense pain. The physical pain took a toil on my senses. Back then counseling wasn't popular and so I was left to deal with my tormentors alone. My mind was affected you see. Pain can make somebody go bonkers. I know and fully understand that first hand.
Torment was watching other kids play and have fun at their age yet I couldn't join in their happiness. Torment is having a chunk of your childhood bitten away from you. I never really enjoyed childhood fun activities.
The torment was worse when I hit teen hood. I couldn't engage in rigorous activities such as dancing playing games such as volleyball, football and netball. Most especially football. Man,I loved the sport. (Still do)
I would have loved to try out various fashion but I was limited to those that could fit me more so the shoes. You see I had (still does) to wear a size bigger to give room to my feet just in case they decided to swell which happened quite often, especially if I stood or walked for long.
I would have loved to go camping, hikes, running and those activities that any other active youth enjoy. I was young still struggling to discover and understand myself. My hands were becoming deformed at an alarming rate and my doctor then released an order authorizing my primary school teachers not to cane me. To cut a long story short, I quickly graduated to a 'rebel' as per the teachers. Maybe I was really a rebel or i was just trying to communicate. (You are at liberty to be the judge in this one.)
Limuru is one cold place actually the coldest in east Africa and perhaps beyond. Arthritis doesn't do well on cold weather, and then another accelerating factor was the diet. I consumed red meat in loads. Technically speaking, I was eating a lot of the wrong things. The pain went double and I took to taking painkillers. They came easily, remember my guka owned a clinic? I didn't have to pay for anything. Another thing painkillers sold over the counter were in plenty and cheap.
In no time I became addicted and couldn't function normally without some boosting. In pain or not and remember, I was still taking the wrong diet and that didn't help either. I should have sought help from the internet but we didn't have television leave alone computers. Internet hadn't flooded out like today.
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