STOLEN CHILDHOOD

I used to think a child is a gift from God, the psalmist mentioned it in the Holy Scriptures. My being, is worse than a gift, my mum made me feel she had a spell cast on her when she conceived me. My dad on the other hand, chose to neglect that I exist.

Whatever is true about my being is only known to those in the medical field.

“Do you have to sleep all day?” my neighbor asked me.
“Most times!” I smirked, I hated been asked questions that could lead to the discourse around my health.

I walked away, few meters away, then I saw the same sign, the tremor, the sweat, confusion. I wanted to shout that my neighbor helped me, but I had to keep my health history. I collapsed, a big bang on the floor attracted my neighbor towards my direction.

With teary eyed, “Thank you”

The consultant who saw me explained better to him, he mentioned that I had always convulsed as a child. Apparently it has affected a part of my limbs and brain.
“that is why she is placed on powerful antidepressant and nerves relaxing drugs” I heard the doctor say.

My neighbor informed my mum that I was in the hospital. She never came visiting, she believes that I chased my dad out because I am sickly.

She believes I stole her marriage, yet I am the victim whose life, and future has been traumatized for 16 years now.

I walked home thinking of all that happened in my life. I chose to have an oblivion about my parents, my life is far from being a gift perhaps my disease was the gift