“Fear is the polio of the soul. Faith is the life based on unseen realities; it is the word become flesh.” - Clarence Jordan
While many of us were asleep with dreams and waking up with ambitions, our mouths salivating at the prospects of our future endeavours, someone somewhere is being humbled by life. Such a person can’t dream or, let’s say, their dreams are limited. They don’t want to become anything or want anything. Instead, they want a good night rest, a filled stomach and clothes on their back— a Trinity of all their needs. That’s all they may ever want from life to be happy and fulfilled. Your mediocrity is their contentment. Investments are for the rich and unhungry people—the rich don't have any problems money can't solve. What does a poor man have to invest, his poverty or perhaps his hunger? But life is unfair, we wage war against poor people, and we set them ablaze, expecting more than they can offer. We blame them for their misfortunes and break their backs while pushing them to the limits of every human endeavour. Their only crime was being poor.
He was 16 when the deadly poliovirus struck him. Before that, he was the fastest runner in the entire town. Everyone compared him to a Gazelle, all the fathers wishing he was their son, and the girls hoping he would stare at them while he ran past, but he didn’t. He never did. Instead, the wind from his speed hit them like the January harmattan breeze. When the tragic incident happened, he had been running, it was a regional competition, and just as he was about to round the curve towards the finish line, he fell. He wriggled on the ground in pain, like an Earthworm on wet concrete. He was taken to the health centre where he was diagnosed with Polio which was on a rampage. He was fitted with iron lungs and legs, and he stayed that way for months. Some people said he had been cursed. Others would suggest that he had dared run faster than life, so the god of smallpox Ṣọ̀pọ̀nastruck him with the fatal disease. Eventually, his lungs could work correctly by some miracle, but he wasn’t as lucky with his legs. The virus had eaten deep into his spinal cord, after that leaving him paralysed, and so was his dreams.
He always became angry—life had been unfair. Running was the only thing he had. His legs were his sole possession, and life cruelly took them. The once cheerful boy was filled with sorrow. His happy parents became encompassed by grieve. He was often secluded. Many times he attempted suicide, and so, he was never left alone, every morning he was wheeled to the front of the compound to the spectacle of the whole town, while they passed by, some were nice they spared a bit of prayer, others weren’t, they laughed openly, mocking him as if he had been the cause of his affliction. And so, to keep himself busy, he began to prepare to write the certification exams. Everyone told him it was impossible, and he should just let it go, but he was as stubborn as a tortoiseshell—rough and rugged. It wasn't easy, but he managed to see it through, and he eventually became the best in the entire town. It was as though the gods had finally looked towards his side once more. His dreams became valid again, his life began to take shape and have meaning—he started running again, this time with his goals, faster than his legs could ever.
He won a scholarship to study abroad. The doctors warned him that the journey could kill him. It was going to be too rigorous for his health. But he was determined. He didn’t come this far to give up. And so he went through with it. The doctors were right, the journey took a toll on his health, but he persevered. He was eventually getting to his destination. Life abroad came with its challenges. A disabled man, living alone was almost impossible, but he found a way to cope. Giving up wasn’t an option. There’s a limited amount of second chances. After all, if the gods gave you one, be sure to use it wisely. After three years, he graduated with honours. The whole town was pleased. Everyone crept down, listening to the radio in the king’s palace. The disabled boy had finally made everyone proud.
He no longer felt a need for his legs anymore. He wouldn’t even consider himself a disabled person because he stood tall on the shoulder of giants. Everywhere he went, he was respected. He was one of the best in his chosen profession. The virus that had afflicted him in the days of his youth no longer defined him. He was no longer a little person with minimal possessions. He was a big man with plenty of possessions.
Daring to believe against all odds. Faith, Guts and Sheer will. I love this story.
If this isn't beautiful, then what is? Nice one