By Toyin Falola

 

Trauma is not always recognizable

dragging bloodied baggage behind it.

Sometimes it creeps in disguised

as a quiet voice reminding you

of the thing your nightmares forgot.

It becomes intimate with the body—

how it is a language of distress;

the sharp clench of a rib cage,

a quivering fingertip,

a heart suddenly racing.

It transforms memory into quicksand,

and every loud noise

will threaten to swallow you whole.

The past floods back to you

not as reminiscence,

but as nightmares you remember waking from.

Trauma educates the mind

to never let its guard down.

It breeds anxiety into joy,

cats out trust,

turns safeness into a question.

It will make you apologize

for hurting when healing can’t be seen.

But underneath the rubble of broken,

something inside will scream:

Stay

Alive

A tiny flame inside battered hearts,

soft but mighty—

refusing to burn out.

It will whisper loudly,

I am still here.

The pain may build a home

in your mind you’ll live inside,

but eventually, you’ll learn

how to throw open the front door,

comfort the ghosts,

breath and face the world

without terror gripping your lungs,

How to leave that house

without shame clinging to your skin,

only survival.

Shot, wounded, battered

Drained energy from the gash

Body and mind scarred

I’m looking for the best way to introduce you to this episode on life challenges. But haiku poetry will do just fine because while trauma has different ways of expression, it has just one simple meaning: it is just trauma, no matter how deep or quick. I do not know if I will be right to say that we have all had our share of trauma, bred from pain, despair, regrets, and unfavourable experiences, either from what others did or where we had found ourselves. In fact, this is a central theme of life challenges, as trauma is the mark that some of these challenges leave on our soul and mind.

Trauma, an invisible monster, is usually a deep shock or injury that impacts heavily, psychologically, emotionally, and sometimes, physically. It is a mark left by a memory; it haunts the present and scars the future. It is sometimes the reason for fear, depression, reservations, and erratic ness. It is like a dagger planted in the mind; while we bleed out hope and courage, we are left with emptiness, shallowness, and erratic ness.

Different versions or experiences leave marks on the mind and shape our personality. The first is childhood. It takes a lot of time for childhood trauma to heal. It is a silent killer that becomes a permanent dot on the mind. It is often overlooked but has a subtle yet definite effect on a child’s character development. It starts with a little thing: the way we speak to a child or hit them. The experiences they are exposed to and the scenes they see are untimely.

From classroom bullies to teachers’ unprofessional statements and reactions to every act by a child. It moves to the absence of parents, and the rude attitude of siblings and house helps. It goes to the experience of a child who lost her father and had a poor mother and so had to live with her aunt in the city. It goes from the sexual abuse by Madam’s husband to the smacking and restless days and nights. It is reflected in the unequal treatment of children because of the circumstances of their birth or the status of their parents. It leads to poverty, which drains the household and influences the child’s mind.

The child wears these things as a badge; they form his or her identity, personality, tendencies in life choices, understanding of situations, and reactions to them. It is the gateway to lost souls and the vulnerability that creates future brutality, hatred, bitterness, and all sorts of personality traits and results.

Ada, 10 years old, had never seen her father during the day, let alone talk of his coming to his school. One day, Ada saw Adanna’s father at school to pick her up. What she saw was fascinating: not only did Adanna’s father hug his daughter wholeheartedly, but he also placed a kiss on his father’s forehead. When Ada got home that evening, she was ready to hug her father that way, but she received only a reluctant, tiring hug and her father’s handbag. She felt unseen and unappreciated. She was a child but lacked parental love. When she tried to engage her father, she met her mother’s slap, whisking her to the kitchen to prepare dinner. That was what broke Ada; she lacked love, and she sought it desperately. Ada today has relationship complications not because she is not beautiful, but because she did not know how to love. She became harsh and sometimes unloving. She became another source of some people’s trauma.

Trauma has different faces; it stings in different ways. Trauma is experiencing the death of a loved one, or even sometimes the death of anyone at all. It is even more traumatic if the means of death is rather unfortunate, painful, and with a lot of suffering. What do you think is left of an 8-year-old whose last sight of his parents is the gunshot by kidnappers or armed robbers? What do you think of a parent who lost their child to an accident, terminal sickness, or even another unfortunate death? It is trauma; it is painful and definitive.

Trauma can stem from persistent failure, especially when what you fail at seems easy to those around you. The story of one Timilehin Faith Opesusi, a 19-year-old girl who killed herself in 2025, comes to mind. Timilehin was reported to have scored 146 in the 2025 UTME and became depressed, and she took her own life. According to the reports, she had scored as high as 286 in the previous exam but still could not get into her preferred institution. Getting as low as 146 was the traumatic experience she could not overcome. She might have seen her friends leave her, or someone might have said something that summed her up to zero. But the trauma took the best of her. She took poison, and she died from it.

Trauma knows no age, gender, strength, or status. You could be as brave as a soldier or have seen it all like a doctor. You could even be a counsellor. You could have it all sorted out or have a tormented background; no one is beyond it. You see, I have a particular interest in the security officials of the different forces and agencies in Nigeria. In advanced countries, or even average countries, there are mechanisms to debrief and rehabilitate those who have traumatic experiences or have seen the worst human eyes could see. These security officials are left unattended, without a therapist or counsellor to help them through their experience. They continue the way they are, and the infection takes their hearts till they become trigger-happy individuals, becoming threats to those they need to keep safe.

Should we also talk about the general trauma we experience in Nigeria in different forms? The lack of electricity and basic amenities to help maintain basic sources of income? The potholes that are death traps. The corrupt officials who would not let you succeed, and the insecurity that becomes a snare to you. The trauma in Nigeria awaits everyone in different ways. Like Gbemisola Adeoti said in his poem, “The Ambush”:

The land lies patiently ahead

awaiting in ambush

those who point away from a direction

where nothing happens toward the shore of possibilities

Apparently, we have all had our shares of trauma in one way or another, no matter how little or grave. While the experiences that form trauma may differ, the result is often the same; it takes us away from ourselves and transforms us into things we do not know we have become. You see, we must learn to take control of our experiences and what we have gone through. If you have the means, it is important to have a therapist and purge all to him or her. Whether you have the resources or not, it is also paramount to have a community or a person who listens to your experience.

Mental health could be affected too. Sickness sometimes is not an infirmity of the body; it is also an infirmity of the mind. You might not know it, but when you notice disturbing feelings, it may be necessary to seek help. Otherwise, it could turn to addiction, suicide, or some other state of things.

Where the trauma is recent, do not be alone; go out, play games, and be around people who care. But you must also know that many of these things are beyond your control, and if you think you should have done things differently, then you should know that now nothing else can be done. You must understand that when there is life, there is hope, and situations can be controlled again.

We need to be good neighbours; within the boundaries of modesty, we must look out for others and be there for them. When we know that someone has a traumatic experience, try to invite them over or pay them constant visits to help them through the phase. When you know that they need help, advise them to do so without imposing and help them through their journey. Maybe Timilehin would still be alive if she had someone to identify with her problems and engage her mind compassionately. There are many walking dead, and a smile on our faces and acts of kindness could be the difference. May all who are distressed be comforted!