"Oh, that I had the looks to take me far. My head is overworked."
Chioma Onwudiwe
"Intellectuals solve problems, geniuses prevent them." Albert Einstein
"I am not good at joining the problem, that is because I am busy brainstorming for a solution." Chioma Onwudiwe
A seemingly concerned reader/spectator, wrote to ask me the other day. Howbeit, respectfully and in jest. If maybe I had been dropped on my head, as an infant. She said she had never met anyone, who made her laugh and then stop herself long enough to wonder. If maybe, she should not be laughing. But rather taking the situation seriously ,in all its entirety. Then with all the seriousness she could muster, would fall back again into fits of laughter. I told her that by all means possible, to go ahead with feeling and experiencing whatever emotion was stirred up in her. She was pleased and thankful, I was intrigued and thoughtful. Well somewhat....
Afterwards, I spent the rest of that day, searching for any hidden bumps on my head. Bumps or cranial fractures, that may or may not have depleted important brain cells. A crack or laceration, buried under that bushy and kinky mane. Something that I may have missed, all these years. There was no bulge, that was unaccounted for. Three days after a wear, tear or bruise. I could never prove the enormity, of the accident and/or incident. Almost everything, goes back to normal. I guess that is just another reason, to be thankful. I really do not know of anyone, who can afford to go under the knife. For life saving purposes or cosmetological ones, while hustling. Once I indulged a close friend, of an incident that took place earlier in my life. She peered closer to look at me and said it was hard to believe, that there were no scars littered all over me.
Strangely enough my father and I, had had this similar discussion. For a very different reason, when I was fourteen years old. I had given him a really stupid answer, to a question that I should have known. He shook his head in bewilderment and said, that he wondered who my 'thinking faculties' were starting to take after. He said it did not sound like, it came from him. And it definitely did not sound like, it came from my mother either! He observed that I seemed not to be present sometimes and that got him worried. Truth is I chose not to be present sometimes lol, for both our sakes! That truth was unconventional and most could not handle it. So I kept it to myself. Planet beyond the clouds, here I come.
As my father later explained, my head never really had to go through any expected trauma at birth. And after birth, he held on happily and firmly. No one heard a loud and resounding thud, as I stood upside down with legs still curled in fetal conditioning. And also there was no record of any female infant, rushed to the emergency room. With a cracked cranium and a tumid cortex. All was well, that is until first grade. Another story another time. Hint; It involves being hurled against a wall....
So as I squinted laboriously at the luminous mirror in front of me, I broke down in gratitude. I remembered the time I had walked into an open glass cabinet, in an Advertising firm. Nobody even went there, or opened it. It was full of award figurines and recognition frames. But somehow that day, it was hanging open and waiting for me. Sure enough because it was glass with the edge facing me, I never noticed. I walked right through it head first! It sliced across my forehead. The impact had my head swollen three times its size, within seconds. Three days later, the swelling and gash was gone. A month later, there was no trace or evidence of anything ever happening. A CT, PET and MRI scan, registered nothing amiss. I was free to roam the streets without restriction.
Two years later (after aforementioned incident), while going down a flight of stairs in a high rise building. I would feel a nudge behind my back and then subsequently roll down three flights of the concrete and iron staircase landing head first. I was so indignant at myself for tripping, that I immediately jumped right back up. Then ran all the way back up the stairs, to see if I could catch whoever gave me that nudge. There was no one... As I crumbled to the ground. The shock and pain registered the next day, yet no injury or trauma was detected. But here is the incident from this particular head 'survival roster', that shook me to my knees even as an un-impressionable youth.
I could have taken the bus or the metro, that cool and crispy evening. In fact, I loved taking the bus or the metro. But the time was 6:33pm and I had to be at my destination by 7pm. The only choice was to take a taxi. Taxis were very expensive in this European city. Therefore, as a college student who was travelling for vacation. Any act of frivolous spending, would leave a dent not only in my finances, but in my furlough. I called the taxi company and in about six minutes, the driver was at the front door. He was the combination of friendly and efficient and I was the definition of content and relieved.
And the streets were narrow indeed. Attention; College girl cruising.
As he deftly and familiarly wound through the narrow streets of this bustling and crowded city, he regaled me with tales of his homeland. His place of birth and origin, so to speak. It was interesting, it was informative and I could not wait my turn to tell my very own tales of a wilderness trek. Whose ending did not appear to be anywhere, in sight. It must have been about fifteen minutes into our trip, when I felt my body lurching forward head first (again). Slamming heavily, into something really hard. then everything went blank....
Some minutes later, I slightly and groggily came to. As three emergency workers, struggled to fit my neck into a brace and prepare me for lifting. I blanked out again. I spent two days, with my feet suspended in the air and my head immovable. I would later find out, that we had a head on collision. And unfortunately, the driver never made it. Eerily I still remember the name of that taxi company, even as I write. Again after days of examination and observation, nothing had shifted from its original position. Just a few cuts and scrapes. I lived to tell and blog it!
So my dear precious reader and spectator woman, no I was not dropped on the head at birth. And every deadly physical impact, was miraculously abated. Nevertheless, there is more to this crazy story, than meets the human eye. I might tell, if I feel like it. Or I might not tell, if I do not feel like it. I might 'spill-the-beans', if you are nice to me. Or I might just eat it, the beans of course. If you are not so nice.
Either way, I shall now and always. Zealously guard this head, that protects a very beautiful and phenomenal mind.
Thank you for being in my head.
.
