My name is Gbenga and I am going to tell you my story in two parts. In these two parts, I will share two sides of myself: the first part is what people say about me - what it looks like from the outside, and the second part talks about who I really am.

For all intents and purposes, if you want to get to know who I am (the real me) skip to part two. As many of you know, there is a stark contrast between who people see you as and who you truly are.

Part 1: About Me

First, to get it out of the way, I have diplegic cerebral palsy (‘queue the hmm’s, and oh no's). That means there is an issue with the communication between my brain and my legs, causing me to walk differently. Not abnormally... just differently.

This is a disorder I was born with and that I’ve had to live with all my life. As you can imagine, it has come with a myriad of challenges. Would you like to know the most difficult thing about having this disorder? It’s not the pain, not the internal feelings. It’s other people.

Growing up with this disorder fills you with guilt; guilt in such a way that you start to believe the community around you believes you have little or nothing to offer. I have felt this guilt for the majority of my life and, sometimes, all that I have wished for was for someone around me to provide me with comfort, inspiration, guidance, or simply just tell me it will all be ok.

In my home, I was the second of five children. My extended family members treated my siblings with kindness and compassion. I had thought I would receive the same care. I had always hoped that I would find someone to lean on, to give me encouragement and confidence that this disorder had ripped away from me. But that person never came. I can say today that there is not a single extended family member who has been this for me. What’s more painful is that I grew up seeing the same family members shower my siblings with gifts and quality time while I was led to feel like an outcast.

With external friendships, it’s almost the same story. In my 30+ years of living, I can tell you that I have never had someone to call my best friend (queue the hmms again under your breath).

Alongside the obvious difficulties my disorder brings, connection with people is one of the worst. Making and/or keeping friends has been difficult all of my life. So much so that I have tried to push myself into a group of people having a conversation just to see if I can develop a friendship or two, but in the end, it’s been to no avail.

I would see people who needed help but never ask me because they thought "this guy with cerebral palsy, what would he have to offer?” You could see it written across their faces. For years I have tried to fight this notion, this belief that I could not do what other people could do.

For this reason, I vowed that whenever anyone asked me for help, I would go the extra mile for them hoping that when they see the extra value I have to offer, they would come back with open arms in friendship.

But even then, it seemed that no matter what I did - it wasn’t good enough. Having these experiences led me to develop and believe in a theory that has helped me get through life.

People only help those who they know can give them something equal or more in return.

Let me give you an example. At University, during the first year of my MSC., I had an apartment with room for one more person.

I was not particular about the type of person I wanted to share a room with, but there was someone who I knew I didn’t want to be my roommate. Yes, we were both Yoruba and came from the same city, however, our lifestyles didn’t fit well together. But when push came to shove, I welcomed him in without issues because no one deserves to be stranded. This wasn’t my first time letting someone stay with me like this. When others were stranded and needed a place to stay, I’d always offer. I did this so often that the security guards of the complex would send stranded people to my room to ask for shelter.

As God would have it, I was the one looking for accommodation towards the end of the school year. So, the guy who let people stay, who the security guards would send people to, should have no problem getting shelter with somebody, anybody, right? You already guessed it. I searched and searched for accommodation, but no one was willing to have me stay with them on a temporary basis. I ended up having to sleep in classrooms or common rooms. I even had to sleep in someone’s car to get by. In such moments, all I had to fall back on was that theory, to give me the strength needed to continue my life’s journey.

I know that I skipped talking about my parents and siblings earlier, and it is a bit difficult to do so as you can imagine, but, just like this story, it’s in two parts. Now, my parents and I get along quite well, especially after the death of my brother who was the firstborn. This was not always the case. Sometimes, they found it hard to look past my disorder and I’ll be honest to say that I can’t blame them. And truth be told, sometimes, having this disorder and knowing the ways I’ve been treated my whole life, led to how I think I view life when certain negative things happen.

Case in point, I went to the University of Ilorin to study medicine. In Nigeria, if you are not a doctor, lawyer, or engineer, you’re nothing in your family, so it meant more to me that I should study medicine and become a doctor. At the end of the first year, however, I got kicked out of medicine and was sent to anatomy. Why? Because I failed 3 courses.

Side note: Don’t lie, you believed that it had something to do with my condition yeah? No, I just failed actually, e dey happen.

You can imagine how my parents felt when I got kicked out of medicine. Here, they had a child who had a disorder, and now he’s not smart enough to be a doctor, to have a worthwhile career. Their disappointment showed, and it got to me.

Back to the guilt I spoke about earlier, it’s that theory that keeps me going. It helps me get through the emotional pain of having this disorder. I have lived my life knowing that no matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough.

‍You see, that’s the life of someone who lives with a disorder. Before you start a race, you’re already behind.

And while sometimes it can be hard to deal with, those are the odds I have to live with and that is why this theory is so important to me.

For those of you who decided to read this part, who felt something in their hearts when reading one of my short stories above, who are invested in knowing who I am, I say thank you. I know your feelings are genuine. I have good news for you. Reading part 2 will be a lot better. So, without further ado, let’s get into it.

Part 2: Who I am!

Inspiration can come from Anywhere

For those of you who are here after reading part one, I know that some of you would have felt something for me so I hope this fills your heart with light.

Spoiler alert! I am doing very well. 

So, who am I?

I could start with parables of how I overcame adversity and how I broke barriers. I can also tell you that I am currently a PhD student in the ABU, Zaria. And, this would be especially pleasing to those who read part 1, that my concentration is Human Anatomy.

In fact, I have 8 publications to my name so far, with 2 more to be published before the end of 2021. The truth is, it sounds like a lot but, I know I can do a lot more. The publications have been for local journals.

It’s always easy to start with the highlights. To begin with the end of the story. But to share fully who I am, I’d have to also tell you how personally I struggled with rejection and depression from dealing with cerebral palsy.

I have been depressed twice in my life.

The first time was when I got kicked out of medical school. I failed. I disappointed everyone. I thought to myself, I was born with a disorder that already posed as a disadvantage and now I wasn’t smart enough to become a medical doctor. Sighs. I was broken, depressed, and had suicidal thoughts. It was tough. But with God on my side, and determination in my heart, I was able to conquer it all. Faith played a vital role in my life during this period. Although I previously prayed for death to come, I understood that death was sure for everyone so I decided to choose life and make an impact with my life before death comes.

The second time was different but equally as painful. You probably have a story of your own like this, that you can relate to. During my National Youth Service Corp (NYSC), there was a lady I liked and I moved to her to see if she would be interested in me. I made my intentions known, and put in a lot of effort, but she wasn’t taking me too seriously. I did everything I could, but it didn’t work. That’s not what depressed me. What depressed me was the guy that she actually went for. Hmm. Not to brag, but I believed I had more to offer; it was clear. Maybe I was wrong, but the only feasible reason why she did not take me seriously was because I have a disorder.

That was it! I was not good enough not because of anything I could control, but the one thing I could not. This caused a lot of frustration and heartbreak for me. It’s funny now, but that is the genesis of my drive to develop myself and impact society. I decided to channel that energy into making myself better.

Shortly after my NYSC, I began my postgraduate degree.

I can tell you these things and more, but still, who am I?

You may have asked the question at the beginning, or even at this point: what's the difference between who someone is and who people think he is?

When someone is being spoken about, it’s usually what their eyes can see. So yes, I have cerebral palsy and it has affected my life greatly; the stories I have told you are just a microcosm of my life.

But who you are, is what you believe you are, and that defines you. Cerebral palsy does not define me, it may limit me in one way, shape or form, but it does not define me. I will not let it!

Yes, I have searched for people to motivate me, but I could neither find a friend nor family member who could step into that role. Yes, I have done many things for others and others have not helped in the same vein. But that is because the majority of the people are only concerned with things about me, not about who I am.

I am a man who is scared not of my condition, but of dying empty, living a life without touching others in some way.

I am a man who no longer yearns for the love or validation of others, but one who wants to spread the love he once yearned for.

I am a problem solver. I am a Research Assistant, a PhD student in Human Anatomy, with 8 publications and 2 more on the way, whose goal is to find a solution to a problem, just one problem, to make a difference in people’s lives.

I am interested in making a difference in the world by understanding the different reactions people in different parts of the world have to infectious diseases, be it malaria or COVID.

I am now the first child of the house. After losing my elder brother to sickle cell anemia, I now support and act as a guide to my younger ones.

I am Gbenga.

These are the things that are important to me, these are the things that give me the feeling of fulfillment, and these are the things that DEFINE me.

I hope in reading this, you have been able to understand the reason I decided to tell my story. I do not want to be pitied, it’s not something I desire in any way. I am a success story, even in Nigeria. 

I am a success story not because of the battles I have faced due to my disorder. 

Not because I have not had as many friends as I would have loved to have. 

Not because I haven’t felt love the way I would have liked. 

But, because through it all, I have been able to find where I fit in life. 

I have been able to find a pathway to fulfillment. 

I have been able to find what I love.

The purpose of telling my story is to give you what I never had when I needed it the most. Motivation!