Pictures From the Official Cheque Handover to S.A.M.I.

October 4, 2011 at 7:08 PM (Sickle Cell)

At the end of the fashion sale fundraiser, V14 Ventures realized N155,000.00 from booth sales and donations from individuals.

A lot of gratitude goes to:
*The SS Lounge Bar for giving us access to their facilities and patrons
*The Best Southern Hotel for also giving us access to thier facility.
*Soggy’s Couture, Awolowo road, Ikoyi.
*House of Tara
*Ovation Magazine
*LTV
*The Sickle Cell Journal
*Timeless Magazine
*ThisDay News

*Pst. Ituah Ighodalo
*Mr Sunday Ngegu for his amazing philanthropy
*Mr Bayo Omisore
*Yemi Alade
*Mr Amatare Oki
*Mr Ayoade Oyebade
*Ex Miss Lacasera – Ugochi Ogugbue and her friends
* @glamofficial for all the tweets
*Mr Henry Dafe

And finally all gratitude goes to the SGC event board of trustees:
*Chief Dele Momodu of Ovation magazine
*HRH,Igwe Patrick Acholonu
*Dr Oluwole Kukoyi of Medicare

And then to the amazing SGC team of planners. God bless you all.

*

SGC FOR S.A.M.I. Still Standing

V14 Ventures handing over the cheque to S.A.M.I.

Ms. Toyin Adesola, Still Standing

SGC BY V14

Love is All That Matters

Valentina Chimonez, Ms. Toyin Adesola, Theodora Chimonez

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SGC for S.A.M.I… The Fashion Sale Fundraiser

September 5, 2011 at 7:30 PM (Sickle Cell)

The SGC for S.A.M.I fashion sales fundraiser was a success and we would love to share the pictures with you!

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YOU SEE MY GLORY, BUT YOU DON’T KNOW MY STORY

July 27, 2011 at 9:02 AM (Sickle Cell)
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YOU DON’T KNOW MY STORY, ONLY MY GLORY. 

I’m living the life I always dreamt aboout. When I look back at where I’m coming from, how thorny, sandy and bumpy the road was. Hmmn, waaay worse than the alpha beach backroad is, I can’t help but give a satisfied smile and say my thank you prayers. When people look at me, they see my glory and criticise, some constructively, some with a lot of envy. But, they don’t really know my story. 

I was born in a very backward village in Yala Iga local government area, Cross River. In my village, children who become orphans, are sickly or have sickly relatives, or whose parents are very poor are branded ‘WITCHES’. They are either mutilated or burnt alive. Such, was my fate for I was a very sickly child and my younger ones were sickly too and all died before they reached their fourth year. Hence, I became the only child. By the time I was 9, I had been taken to several witch doctors, been through countless rituals, had several marks carved onto my feet, back, chest and forehead. 

We have a general clinic that people hardly go to. School was 20 miles away and parents didn’t really let their children go for fear of them being kidnapped for rituals or getting initiated by the other kids into witchcraft. 

After my mother had buried the 5th child, my father’s 2nd wife accused me of witchcraft. She claimed she saw me dancing under the plantain tree at midnight and it was I who ate up all my mother’s other children and sealed her womb. Having such strong allegations against me, my mum snuck me out in the middle of the night to the corpers lodge which was about 50 miles away. 

That night, she laid out flat on the ground begging the corpers to give us shelter and save our lives. That was how I met Miss Tamuno Boma Hart. She was my turning point. The next day, she took us to Lagos where she had us tested, found out I had SCD and then took me to The Kayode Olabode Taiwo Foundation. They helped make my life the success it is today. 

You see me on tv, in newspapers and magazines, hear my voice on the radio, always upbeat, always on the go. But, you don’t know my story. Now, you know my background. 

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RANTINGS OF A BROKEN WOMAN

July 11, 2011 at 3:37 PM (Sickle Cell)
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I don’t want to cry, cos my tears may never stop. I don’t want to scream, cos I might never stop. I don’t even want to talk about the things I’ve gone through. Though it’s history. Though I did my best.  They were in my arms, I had hope. Though I was a fool, playing by the rules. So, why should I cry, why should I talk?  No one would hear me anyway. I can only rant in my head. 

Both children gone. What am I living for? There’s nothing more to say. Nothing more to fight for. The winner takes it all. I have no song of victory. The Nigerian medical system wins it all. I can only wrap myself, holding it all in. 

The giants of Africa, with one of the worst Health Care systems in the world. My angels writhing and screaming in pain. Those useless doctors giving them anti-malaria drugs, telling me it’s nothing serious. Not caring, not carrying out tests. And I, the fool, playing by the rules, listening to them, listening to all the ignoramus. Kpissssh!!!!!!! 

They say I’m mad. What do they know? WHAT DO THEY KNOW????? What do they know about watching your only children suddenly start screaming in pain, you trying to help them and unable to even touch them? Unable to make them talk to you, standing helplessly by and watching them slip away. 

And after everything, the useless doctor comes to tell me he was too late. That they had a ‘CRISES’. What the hell is a crises? Why didn’t they treat the CRISES immediately? He says he wasn’t consulted on time. 

Ah!!!! I can’t blame them. I blame Nigeria. 

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DISTRAUGHT AND BROKEN

July 6, 2011 at 10:14 AM (Sickle Cell)
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Dear Anugo,

My name is Similola and my wedding is in two weeks. I heard your story through my cousin Gloria Oluwole. She told me your story to help me make a more informed decision. 

You must be wondering why I need to make an informed decision, why I am writing you. My fiancé or do I say husband (seeing as we have done the traditional rites) is SS and I am AS. You see, we had no idea that I was AS. I had been under the illusion that I am AA. I mixed my genotype up with my brother’s. So, when I met my husband eight years ago, (we started dating in our 2nd year in the university) and I found out he was SS, I felt we were in no danger. 

We have been through so much together, endless stays in the hospital that almost ruined my chances of graduating because I always had to be with him in the hospital. Even when my father almost disowned me for getting an extra year in school because of William, I stuck to him. 

I found out I am AS when I went for my ante-natal. I am five months pregnant and the thought of an abortion at this stage is almost unbearable. 

How do I abort this baby whom I feel moving in my womb? How do I snuff out this life that I already cherish so much? This little and most intimate companion? How do I leave Williams after all that we’ve been through? How do I start again?

Your story tells me that it would be for the best, but right now, I don’t have the courage. Help me please. 

Distraught and broken,
Similola Oluwole.  

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STUPID IN LOVE

July 1, 2011 at 11:20 AM (Sickle Cell)
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Dearest Kube,

How are you? How are your boys doing and how are you coping with this global economic meltdown? I hope it’s not as bad as it is here. Dunni Kandi had a baby boy last week and she is over the moon cos ‘her position’ is now guaranteed. LOL. You know she was beginning to receive a lot of flak from her husband and his people. The child dedication is in two months. You should call her. 

Kube, it has been far, very far from easy here. Financially, emotionally and psychologically. The strain is so much that each day, I sometimes wish I could sleep and not wake up. But then I think of Victor and the other kids and my husband and I scold myself for my selfishness. Go ahead and say it. I can hear you thinking it. It was my selfishness that put me in this position in the first place. 

In retrospect, I am amazed at how stupid I was. Despite everyones best efforts to stop me from marrying Dan. Even his parents had reservations. But we believed in the superiority of our love and plans. We had heard that when two AS people have kids, it is usually the first or third child that is SS. We decided to do tests in my 5th month of pregnancy to find out the child’s genotype and if it is SS, we abort. You screamed bloody murder at me telling me I was ‘mega stupid’ to believe I’ll actually abort a 5 month old pregnancy. 

Kube, maybe I’ll have been able to do it. But Fate played a trick on me and made my middle child a SICKLER. It’s not supposed to happen that way. 

Victor is so delicate. Any little thing can trigger a crisis. He commands all my attention. I don’t have time for the other kids and I even find it difficult to love Dan now. This week alone, Victor has had TWO crisis. I wish I could really understand how he feels and what he goes through. But, I’ve never been where he is and I have met anyone like him. Each time I look at him, I ask myself how I could saddle him with such a burden? Once when he was pulling out of a crisis, Ebiye and Clara ran into his room to see how he was doing. They were literally shining with good health. He turned to me and asked ‘Mummy, why am I different from them?’   

Kube, I couldn’t stop crying and apologizing to him. I know he doesn’t understand why I kept saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. But someday he will. And I hope he’ll forgive me. 

I am searching for a good Sickle Cell foundation to enroll him in. Being with others like him might be a big help to him. I just wish there was a personal platform where I could meet different foundations so I can pick one. 

Oh well, thanks for always being there.you’re the best friend anyone could ever wish for. I love you

Anugo. 

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Thankful and hopeful

June 29, 2011 at 1:03 PM (Sickle Cell)

Dearest Journal,

I was probably born out of my parents selfishness and ignorance, sentenced to a life of pain, filled with physical, psychological and spiritual misery. Friendless in my early years until I discovered you. 

Sometimes, I walk back through the journey of my life, I look at my husband and healthy children and I marvel. I found love! I have built a home of my own! I have a wonderful career touching lives through my on-air personality! All I can say is; “BABA GOD NONI!” 

I feel very bad when I get a crisis though. My children, God bless their brave souls cry in fear. No matter how often I get a crisis, they never get used to it. Not even my husband. The other day, I was on air talking about the Jeans for Genes event when I had a bad crises. 

I had been having more pain than usual all day and I took more pills to counteract it, hoping to prevent a crises. Well, by now, Dear Journal, you must know that crises have a mind of its own. So, there I was mentally fighting the pain when suddenly my joints exploded into fire. My body was on fire. Hmmm, even though I’ve lived with this pain all my life, I can never get used to the crises pain. 

Most people don’t understand it and sometimes act like it’s a taboo to acknowledge my ailment. Other Sicklers find it difficult to associate with their compatriots. Hmmm. I wish people would recognize and appreciate the courage and strength we show each time we face people, survive a crisis and smile. 

I wish we would be celebrated just once. Made to feel special and not like ‘lab rats’ whose parents were not smart enough to not fall in love and have kids. That’s how I sometimes feel during the Sickle Cell Awareness seminars and events. 

Well, until then, I’ll remain thankful and hopeful. Living in each moment. 

Lovina. 

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WHERE IS ALLAH?

June 29, 2011 at 11:05 AM (Sickle Cell)
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Dear Miriam,

Isn’t Allah supposed to be merciful? Isn’t He supposed to lighten our burden as we go through life obedient to His will? Why then am I cursed with this burden of sickness? Why then have I been sent to be a torment to my poor parents?
Sentenced to a very short life, ridden with endless stays in the hospital. Forbidden from having a family of my own, a husband to cater to and children to love. 

Miriam, you must be wondering why I am so dark. Jibril, little Jibril, sweet little Jibril died yesterday. My little brother is dead. 

I see my mum look at me with so much fear. Probably wondering when I too would leave. Poor woman. Baba has gotten another wife and he tells everyone who would listen that this one would not curse him with dead children who pretend to be alive. I can’t help wondering how it is Mummy’s fault that we were born with Allah’s displeasure. 

The other day, Waribi told me not to ever dream of getting engaged, as I would probably spend my wedding night in hospital. Hmmm. 

I have buried my dream of becoming a successful business woman like my mum. It’s too expensive to dream. People like me don’t amount to much. We die early, like diseased chickens. 

Do not worry so much about me. As Allah willeth, so would it be. 

Allah be with you. 

Your darling friend,
Hadiza Bello. 

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LETTER TO MY UNKNOWN PAL

June 29, 2011 at 10:59 AM (Sickle Cell)
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Dear Pal,
(location, in my room).

It happened again. Maths teacher was teaching us ‘LOGARITMS’ when those needle pricks became sharper in my bones. Suddenly, my eyes started turning and my head felt like it was hit with a brick. I couldn’t breathe. I was so cold. The needles became razor blades. I tried to tear out the razor blades, but they kept tearing my body.

I know I was screaming at them to stop but they continued tearing into me. My head started swelling. (sob). The pain was so much, I think I fainted.

The doctor said I have Sickle Cell Anemia and that the bad pains when I faint are called ‘CRISES’. This is the second time it’s happened this week and I heard Daddy tell Mommy I would stop going to school and start doing home lessons because of my CRISES.

I don’t have friends in school. The teachers say no one should touch me because I’m a SICKLER. Everyone pities me and say I’m going to die if they play with me. I don’t like it because I am always lonely. I asked my mommy why I wasn’t as strong as Kolade and if I was going to die. She started crying.

I told God to make me as strong as Samson so I can go to school, grow up and become an ENGINEER like Daddy.

I wish I could see you because you make me happy.

Do you know if there are others like me? Maybe they’ll let me be their friend and we can plan our future together if we don’t die.

Your loving friend,
Mofe Lamido.

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