This is a story I will never forget in a hurry. This was how it started, I was around 5 years old when this terrible event occurred.
It was on a sunny day, my friends and I were together inside the compound, they were all boys though, Lol.
We were about testing who could jump better; so silly of us, we all agreed to stand on the balcony rest (handle) and so we stood on it and from there, we decided to jump down since it was a bungalow rest, we saw it as a simple challenge.
One, two, three counting went, we said simultaneously and jumped, we all made it to the ground but how many were able to stand up after the challenge? Hmm, it was shocking that we all didn't stand up immediately. As seconds passed, my friends were already getting up one after the other, but on getting to my turn, I was struggling to stand up at a point I just stopped struggling and told my friends to help me get up, they all thought I was joking but on seeing my facial expression; I was in pain:
'My leg ! ".... I cried out.
After so many attempts of trying to carry me up which proved abortive. I was in so much pain. Immediately all my friends tried carrying me up, that was when my dad entered the compound; he was just coming back for work. My dad saw me as he entered the compound,
He shouted my name and said "What are you doing here?" He asked me. I just kept shouting "my leg!!", He came to meet me in a hurry. "how did you fall down?", He asked me. I was in so much pain as I kept screaming in discomfort and didn't bother to give answers to his questions.
In a jiffy, my dad noticed my leg was already getting swollen from the view of it; he sensed that I had sprained my right leg. He quickly removed his tie and tied my right leg knee cap, I was rushed to the nearest hospital and after the all X-ray scan, I was diagnosed with a broken leg. I was just in nursery two as of then. I was on admission for some weeks in the hospital and was later discharged.
I had P.O.P(plaster of Paris) moulded on my right leg; from my lap to my ankle. I started using crutches, it was a bad and sad experience for me. I couldn't walk, I crawled when I'm not with my crutches. I couldn't go to school for a while but I later resumed but I didn't go to school frequently. I lost friends, my broken leg began to smell after a series of changes to the P.O.P . My legs were getting rotten, I saw maggots inside the P.O.P. It wasn't healing. My friends were running away from me. I was irritated myself, I found my leg irritating.
My class teacher told my mom one day she came to pick me from school that she knows someone who can help me make my leg okay again and my mom by faith took me there. We entered a canoe. The place was a slum, Ajegunle is the name of the town. We went to the man's house and we later found out that he arranges legs with sticks and herbs.
My leg therapy with him was a horrible one, why? My legs were so disgusting and almost dead. He cleaned it and arranged it with flat sticks and squeezed in some drops of herbs and also massaged the leg. I was terribly in pain that day. That was the beginning of my healing process. I came every two weeks for those sessions with him and for every session: I had about eight to ten therapy sessions after which I later could walk again and that took a year.
That will be all for today.
Thanks for reading
Have a splendid day folks.