LIMB LOSS TO LIFE GAINED

We met in one of the stalls outside the catholic university where she studies. Her smile was still pretty and her enthusiasm would draw anyone to her. She was gorgeous. She was my high school prefect before the accident that forced her to move to some other school back in 2019 when we were in form four. Before me, she sat and I adored her. Despite the accident that changed her life she still held a lot of beliefs at heart, like believing in God, like believing in love, believing in fate, and much more.

I was out to interview her and this is what she had to say;

“I wasn’t born this way. I had limbs, I ran around, I would run and dance. Three years down memory lane and I recall that day crystal clear. It was on a Tuesday, April 16th, 2019 where it all happened. Being a candidate who would do her national exams later in the year I had pressure to read. I didn’t want to disappoint my parents. The government had banned tuition during holidays so I used to go to a friend’s house whose dad was a secondary teacher and he would help us revise. So on this particular day, we finished revising early and I was supposed to head home. There were six of us so on our way I tried convincing my friends we use the highway route instead of the shortcut that we all were used to. Highways were dangerous. Especially Naivasha where there is bustle and a lot of trucks but who were we? The youth spirit craving for adventure overwhelmed us if that’s the right thing to say. Two of them were against the idea but since the majority won they had to follow suit. I of course led the way with a lot of excitement being the happy teen that I was. Upon being asked why I didn’t want to use the shortcut I stated “kuna vumbi”.Tol date I still question of all the years I’ve used that path was that the only day I realized it had dust? We were then at the main road on the right side where the chief’s office was located. There were many people taking huduma numbers at the chief’s place. A friend of mine was closer to the tarmac road than I was. Then the trailer came. People behind us saw it earlier and screamed the trailer was losing control. My friends together with other people jumped to a ditch that was nearby and the one closer to the tarmac told me to move away. The last thing I heard him say was “Joy toka”. I don’t remember if I moved. Or I did. Apparently, the trailer got to me before I could save myself. I fell on the people who were in the ditch and now my legs were hanging on the walls of that ditch and the trailer went ahead and hit a tree that was nearby.”

I look at Joy with sympathy. I really didn’t want to cry in front of her. My eyes got watery and wanted to give way. I wanted to ask questions but I couldn’t. I just didn’t have the right words to say and sorry wouldn’t even help at this point.

She then continued her narration.

“ I turned and look up and I didn’t feel any pain at the moment. I looked up and my concern was my trouser was hanging. I laughed and tried to pull it but I couldn’t . I then wanted to stand up so that I could be in a better position to pull. Little did I know my knees had been smashed and I couldn’t feel my legs. I wish I had pictures to show you but I know my dad has some and If I ask him he will think am stressed or depressed. I looked at my friends and I saw them crying and I though aiii why are they crying whats wrong with them they didn’t seem injured and they were making phone calls. Later I learned they were calling my brother. I continually asked what was up but apparently they saw how bad my legs were. It was dislocated and literally a part of my skin was holding the knee part and the lower part. That was the left leg. The right leg was completely dislocated and the femur part was visible on the ground. The guy who I had fallen on him in the ditch said “heeh huyu amevunjika”. That wasn’t as bad right? I didn’t go unconscious so I was beginning to realize what had happened. Ooh it was an accident. So if my legs are broken I will just need plaster and that’s it. I tried to stand up to see my friends properly but I couldn’t. I turned and all I could see were pieces of flesh. It was gross. One of my friend’s hand was bleeding but nothing serious and another one was wounded on the back but she is now healed completely.”

I was now crying. I couldn’t help it yet Joy was there narrating how the events happened as she giggled at some point. This lady is strong. “So what happened next? Were you taken to the hospital?”

“my friends stopped a passing car and I was rushed to Naivasha district hospital. Did I mention in this particular car I was put in the boot? On the way I wondered how did I even fit in a boot. I gave them my dad’s number and he was called. Upon reaching the hospital, I saw a nurse I knew since my dad worked in the hospital I knew a few people there. I saw a woman who i knew and I pleaded for help. I could then see my brother from a distance he had already arrived. I asked him a lot of questions because at that time after seeing my legs condition I started feeling pain. Pain is funny. I wasn’t feeling it before I saw my legs but after seeing them the pain was severe. It how kids fall down and laugh but after seeing themselves bleed they start to cry. I tend to think its an illusion. The nurses would carry me from one stretcher to another and let me tell you Caro it was another level of pain I can’t define. When the doctor came to see me he did this test asking me if I could feel the toe he had touched. I knew about this test. Having my dad working in an hospital I knew a lot of things. If I gave the wrong answer this would lead to amputation because it meant I wasn’t feeling anything. I stopped imagining I would be plastered. All I saw now was amputation. I needed to act fast to ‘save’ my legs. Then he started asking what toe he had touched and I said the big toe to show him I was okay. He had not touched any toe. He tried again and again and I kept giving the wrong answers.

My mum had arrived and my friend’s dad who was teaching us also came. Both of them were crying. At this time I had lost a lot of blood and I was transferred to Nakuru level five hospital. My dad had ceased to work in Naivasha hospital for years and was working in Nakuru but he still wasn’t around that day. He had gone to Nairobi that day to see my uncle who had cancer. He knew even if he came he won’t be allowed to treat his daughter. It doesn’t work that way.

In Nakuru, I found orthopaedic surgeons waiting for me. I asked my brother a lot of questions whether I could walk again, if I could dance, if I could swim; not that I was good at any of the latter two but it was a hobby. He hugged me and said everything will be fine. That’s the tightest he has ever hugged me. Before entering the theatre room, my mum was supposed to sign a document stating she accepts the surgery and incase of death the hospital is not liable. I don’t know if you know those surgery forms? So my mum wasn’t okay. She was crying, she was weak, she wasn’t even in a position to sign and we had to wait for my dad who was on his way. Upon his arrival, I cried out to him saying whatever you do please don’t let them cut my legs. My father seemed shaken. He is a man who always doesn’t promise if he can’t deliver. The last words he said before I entered the surgery room was “I need you alive Joy, you will be fine.”

I woke up at around 1 am in a ward. My mum was there and some family members. My eyes felt heavy. I tried to sit up but I was in pain. I peeped and my legs were in bandages. I was amputated, Caro. I was amputated. I looked at my dad and cried screaming he was a liar. No one could comfort me at the moment. I kept saying how he promised I will be fine. He then had to make everyone leave the ward(it was a private wing) so he could talk to me. “listen, I needed you alive and that’s what I said.” He then went ahead and showed me the x-ray pictures of how my bones had been powdered and there was no way to save it. I then calmed down.

Wednesday many people flowed the hospital including our church pastor and even my best friend from school came. I was literally laughing with people and some were astonished. After dad had talked me out, I saw no need over crying about what transpired.”

My heart sank every moment she spoke. “How many times have you retold the story? Do you feel bad for telling it each time? Do you remember when we used to walk down the pathway on Wednesdays after discipleship club? Do you regret anything or blame yourself? Being a candidate, how did it affect you?” I was bombarding her with questions. Joy used to be this girl in class who was my main competitor, an A straight kind of student. My schoolmates can testify.

“I have retold it so many times I can’t even count. I’ve been featured in TV interviews like ktn and appeared in magazines. At first I used to tell the story and before I could finish I would cry. With time that went away but every time I retell I feel some type of way. I regret using that path every day of my life especially when I remember am the one who suggested we use it. God however gives you what you can handle. I am happy now. I am okay. Yes I remember every single time we walked and talk something deep or discuss what the patron, Mr Minene, had preached about. The accident affected me a lot. I missed school the whole of second term because I was in so much pain and I had to process trauma. At the end of the year, I still did my exams. All glory to God am alive.