Beyond the scars

As I walk around with my prosthesis, I often notice people staring, their eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and pity. Many assume I was involved in a horrific road traffic accident, and I don't blame them. The scars I bear tell a story of their own, a story that I'm about to share with you.

It's been 11 years since I lost my left lower limb due to carbon monoxide poisoning. Yes, you read that right – carbon monoxide poisoning, not a road accident. It's a topic that's often overlooked, yet it's a silent killer that claims thousands of lives every year. In fact, carbon monoxide poisoning is one of the major causes of toxin-related deaths, resulting in at least 5,000 deaths annually.

So, what is carbon monoxide poisoning? It's a life-threatening complication that occurs when you breathe in carbon monoxide fumes. This colorless, odorless gas binds to hemoglobin, displacing oxygen and forming carboxyhemoglobin. It's a deadly combination that can lead to severe health consequences, including death.

My story began 11 years ago, when I was living with my family in a small, single room in Pipeline, Kware, located in the populous Embakasi area of Nairobi. I was preparing supper using a charcoal jiko, a common cooking stove in many African households. As I cooked, I unknowingly inhaled carbon monoxide fumes due to poor ventilation in the house. The next thing I knew, I had lost consciousness and fallen to the ground, my left leg landing on the scorching hot jiko.

My small sister, who was only 4 years old at the time, was asleep and had accidentally locked the door, trapping us inside. It wasn't until two hours later that I was rescued after concerned neighbour’ broke down the door on noticing the smoke and fumes wafting from the dwelling.

Sadly by then, the damage had been done. I suffered severe burns, and despite multiple surgeries, my leg couldn't be saved. Amputation was the only option.

The road to recovery was long and arduous. I struggled with low self-esteem for over six years, feeling like a burden to those around me. I was diagnosed with chronic PTSD, and the nightmares and flashbacks were a constant reminder of that fateful day. The worst part was returning to the same house where I had almost lost my life, reliving the trauma every day.

The aftermath of that accident is a mixed bag of positive and negative outcomes. As an amputee, I face numerous challenges. The cost of a good prosthesis is prohibitively expensive, and many amputees in my country rely on well-wishers and donations to access one. I'm no exception; I haven't been able to afford a new prosthesis in over 10 years. Access to public transport is another hurdle, and the stigma surrounding disability makes it difficult to find employment.

However, despite these challenges, I've achieved something remarkable – confidence. I've learned to rewrite my story, to see myself as a resilient and capable individual. I've gained a new perspective on life, one that's taught me to appreciate the little things and to never give up.

My journey with carbon monoxide poisoning and amputation has been long and difficult, but it's also been transformative. I've learned to embrace my disability and to use my story to raise awareness about the dangers of carbon monoxide poisoning. I hope that by sharing my experience, I can help prevent others from going through what I've endured. So, the next time you see someone with a prosthesis, remember that there's often a story behind the scars, a story of resilience and determination.

Faith Mutunga