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Mira had to go through this pain, leave her comfort zone, discover the endless possibilities that lay ahead of her, own her power, use her reversed desire to get over her situation to see her light again.

The pain helped her gain freedom from pity and self-victimization. At first glance, you could clearly see the world hanging on her shoulders.

Her zombie walk, ragged clothes, dirty bare feet, and stinking curly unkempt hair made the birds think the humans had upgraded their scarecrows and made them motionable.

What they could not put their talons on was why the scarecrow was not in the wheat field but kept roaming the city streets.

It also seemed like the humans had come up with a pungent smell put on scarecrows that made these amazed birds convinced that it was meant never to make them dare come anywhere near the scarecrows or to find a way of blocking their nose so that they would not have to smell that horrible smell that made even the birds want to puke.


What puzzled them, even more, was the fact that even the humans themselves seemed to run away.

But then I know what you are thinking. Mira was not possessed by the evil spirits, nor was she destitute or mentally ill, she had simply been dared by her therapist to do a one-hour experiment that would change her life for good.

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How It All Started

She was a shy girl, quiet, withdrawn at first glance, and even though talented and quite an intellectual as the therapist had discovered, she rarely showed it especially when in public.

She had attempted suicide severally. Her favorite color was black. She dared break the rules and color her hair. Her theme was Gothic, with body piercings and tattoos despite it being a rule that these were not allowed in school.

She had been referred to the therapist because she was going to be expelled if she did not change, for being unruly, seducing teachers to give her good grades, and for sneaking out of school severally.

She was also on drugs and had surprised almost everyone when she bit a girl’s fingers making them bleed and slapped her hard simply because she claimed the girl had messed up her clothes by accidentally tripping and pouring tea on her.

Mira was from a very wealthy family, but then the rich also cry sometimes. The therapist discovered that Mira was constantly raped by her stepfather but was too scared to tell her mother, whom she had tried to tell the truth once only to be slapped and sent to bed without food for being a liar.

She was also threatened by the stepfather that he would make the mother and her lose everything since it was because of him that they lived a lavish life.

Causes For Trauma

She knew her mother relished the wealth and worshipped the husband. These were not things she could just yank her mother away from.

Recently, in an outburst of anger, her mother had told her that Mira was a product of rape and she should even be thankful that her grandparents, who were devoted Christians convinced their daughter to keep the child.

In her own cocoon, she was alone, almost eighteen and never truly fitting in. But then she was also a fighter and knew that nobody could ever fully understand her pain.

With time she had come to trust the therapist though and was even encouraged to become a therapist, for she discovered she loved people as well and just wanted to help.

Her attitude and nonchalance were her way of dealing with the pain of rejection where she felt no one cared and no one wanted her.


She was in a girl’s boarding school. Seducing teachers was her way of proving to herself that she was attractive to males and that she was wanted, needed, and accepted by the males.

The experiment was meant to make her deal with rejection.

 “If you can pull this off, you can survive any kind of rejection and you will have conquered your fear” the therapist, Mrs. Mabu had explained to her during one of the sessions.

Undoing The Past

It took a lot of convincing but it surprised her when she agreed. Yes, this girl was vulnerable, but even in her vulnerability, she was still tough.

Mira looked and smelled like she had been vomited out of a crocodile’s stomach. Even she felt like passing out from the smell.

Seriously! Did it have to be this extreme? She did not know what witchcraft Mrs. Mabu had done to come up with such filthiness.

She was sure she would win the contest if flies were to hold a competition looking for the dirtiest and most unkempt human.

She did manage to walk head cast down along the street. The horror on people’s faces and the looks they gave her made her think she was a dog’s shit that had come to life.

Children cried when they saw her, and held tight to their mothers asking if they had seen a ghost, some took out cameras and clicked away, some took off running and clutching their bags tighter. Some called nasty names I would rather not say, and some fellow woman dared pour muddy water from a puddle of rainwater saying it was better than the rotting smell she emitted.

No one showed her kindness, no one showed her pity. No-one stopped to ask her if she had eaten.

At that moment she gained clarity and she was thankful, in fact, jovial which shocked her actually. Her life was in shams, but others had it worse.


She was only doing an experiment, but there are people who lived like this and still survived to bear it and see each day as it passed.

This pain made her brave.  If she could face this kind of rejection, she could face any kind of rejection. It would still be a journey, but she was now some steps ahead in the right direction.

She had a therapist and she had her grandparents who loved her. Thanks to her trust fund, she did not have to work for the rest of her life. Her grandparents had ensured it.

She would be eighteen in two weeks’ time and she wanted to move out, go study abroad and never come back to her family.

At least she had this option. Her grandparents were abroad and she could go live with them. There was hope. Others went through this pain and were not as lucky.

When she got to the car where her therapist was waiting for her, she had a smile on her face, odd as that may seem and Mrs. Mabu gave her a knowing look.

Mira was a smart girl, and she had learned the wisdom behind it. “You took me through hell,” she uttered, her words laced with humor and a hint of gratitude, “But thank you, I am never going to act like I am the victim again for now I know my power”

“Yes child, and you have seen nothing yet. You will change the world!” Skeptical as she was about those words, she had a feeling that that might just be true.


In The End

Mira had to go through this pain. Leave her comfort zone and discover the endless possibilities that lay ahead of her. Own her power, use her reversed desire to get over her situation to see her light again.

The pain helped her gain freedom from pity and self-victimization. What is your innermost fear?

Are you brave enough to face it? What if you looked at that fear or pain in the face and said “bring it on! I can face it! I love pain, pain sets me free.”

Try it today. Can you?

I send you love and light.