Somewhere in March 2010, I had a secure funding from the Barclays Bank of Ghana to train 220 boys and girls at Winneba. The project aimed at training young people between the ages of 15 and 24 to acquire skills in areas such as plumbing, masonry, carpentry, driving, hairdressing, sewing, among others.
I had formed a steering committee to run the project. I bought 58 sewing machines and accessories; 32 hairdryers and accessories; 10 sets of carpentry tools; 12 sets of plumbing tools and many others; as well as paying for the apprenticeship fees for all the 220 selected beneficiaries.
The steering committee of the project had organised the launching and introduction of the project at the A. M. E. Zion Church, and all the beneficiaries and their families had gathered for the occasion – a packed auditorium – and I had been invited as a keynote speaker.
While giving my speech, I noticed I was losing my ability to speak, with my lips failing to cling. I attempted to drink water, thinking my difficulties were as a result of dehydration. But the water poured out of my mouth in an embarrassing manner. It then became obvious that something was wrong with me, especially since I realised one side of my face had started to droop, and I was at this point unable to pronounce any meaningful word, so I ended my speech abruptly.
I immediately left for Accra to the Holy Trinity Hospital. After a series of questions, the doctor concluded that I had been hit by Bell’s palsy! This was the first time I had heard of this disease. I was then referred to the 37 Military Hospital for further examination and treatment.
Bell’s palsy is a condition that causes weakness of the muscles in the face. It impairs speech, and it can occur when the nerve that controls your facial muscles becomes inflamed, swollen, or compressed. The condition causes one side of your face to droop, creating difficulties in smiling or closing your eye on the affected side.
At the 37 Military Hospital, the doctor booked me for a six-week physiotherapy, beginning the following week. Meanwhile, I had only eight days left to leave Ghana for a four-week speaking tour in America.
Flying 11 hours direct from Ghana to New York became unusually the longest and the most painful head-aching experience I have ever had. The left half of my face became completely paralyzed, with the left eye unable to close or blink. As the flight dragged on, every single air-condition was breezing, every single particle flew directly into my eyes and into my mouth, with destabilizing dryness.
I had a connecting flight to Washington so upon arrival, I had alerted the Delta Airlines agents that I was unwell, and therefore I needed to sleep at the boarding area, and that I needed them to wake me up during the ‘boarding on the connection’.
Unfortunately, it turned out the agent I spoke with was actually closing her shift, and she did not pass the information on to the next agent. Long story short, I missed the flight.
My friend, Jeff, was at the airport to fetch me. But the flight arrived without me. He called Ghana to check if I, indeed, travelled. It was confirmed that I was on the Delta flight that left Ghana. How then did it happen that I was not on the flight upon arrival, and there was no record to show that I was ever on the flight?
Jeff then initiated a search for me. He called our FBI friends to seek advice on how to look for me. Meanwhile back home, I had been declared dead already, with my family initiating the bereavement process.
By the time I arrived in Washington on the next regional jet, enough had been said to my memory by those who love me. Even Jeff had cried, for they all knew the condition under which I travelled, and for some reasons some of my family members had thought that I had died on the plane, and somehow the crew had thrown me into the sea. It was scary, and it was humbling.
Jeff took me straight to a Washington hospital, and the doctors did their best to save my eyes from total blindness, for my face looked like a patient suffering from terminal stroke.
It was initially very difficult to accept my new self, but I had to confront myself, and to accept the reality that the healing would take some time, especially since the situation became very bad before the improvement began.
I am sharing my story with you because I have realised that not many people are aware of this disease called Bell’s palsy, and how it affects our families. I have had many occasions when some people have politely asked me whether I have had stroke before.
The worsening of my condition and the subsequent slow recovery is due to my ignorance of the disease. If I had known what it was, and how it is managed, I would have prevented it from getting worse, and subsequently would have not gotten to the level where recovery has become slow.
I have mentioned posterity more than often, but I don’t think you get me. In the next two hundred years, none of us alive now will ever live again. No matter how scary it looks, we will all die sooner. We therefore have a choice to make, to think about ourselves only, or to think about others too, including those unborn.
Do not wonder why I write the way I do. Without personal experiences, I do not have any interest thing to write about, for I write the way I write because I am determined to pour my experiences, my heart, and the experiences of others in order to edify, inspire and guide others from experiencing worse things.
As regards the very few talents God gave me, it has been my written and verbal communication that puts food on my table. I am neither a minister nor an MP. I hold no public position. I am a mere private person who begs with my NGO to get money. I went out there doing something to help my people, and I was hit by this disease. I lost my speech – the talent that puts food on my table, and I lost my left eye too. But the most important thing is: God has preserved my life. God is good!
By James Kofi Annan