I’ve known fear since I was a child.
And now, as adulthood adorns my inner child, fear still lurks in the shadows.
Sometimes it even dares to dine with me.

The memories of a childhood experience still haunt me to this day.
I was not even up to 13 then.
But it must have been the first time I thought I’d die.

Alone in the front yard of my maternal grandparent’s mission house,
I munched on boiled sweet corn.
Everyone was inside the house.
After eating the corn, a voice whispered a silly idea to me.
I thought it would be nice to chew the cob.
Well, it wasn’t my first time.

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As I bit a chunk of the cob and chewed it, the juice felt like honey in my mouth,
All was well for a moment. Not until tragedy took a ride in my mouth.
Like a troublesome child bent on tormenting his mother with mischief,
A tiny cob got stuck in my throat.
It was like a tiny bone of fish lodged in my throat.

Tears formed a puddle in my eyes, as one tiny hand flapped helplessly in front of me like a bird prepping to take flight
While the other slapped my head as if to force out the cob.
I called out to my sister and my aunt,
But my words barely came out as a whisper.
I was shouting and screaming for help in my mind.

Right there, as young as I was, the fear of death crept in.
My soul flashed and flew before my eyes.
I imagined my epitaph:
“A corn cob killed her while she was on holiday.”

I saw fear in vivid colours as the thoughts of death besieged my corncob-clogged throat.
I don’t remember how or when help came.
But I lived to tell the story.

You’d think I’d stop eating corn or the cobs after that day.
No, I did not.

***

I wish I could handle my adult fears the way I treated the fear of corncobs.
If the errant tiny cob that sought abode in my throat could not stop me from eating corn to date,
Why does fear hold my adulthood to ransom?
Why does the fear in the shadows and the one that feels no shame threaten to shatter my dreams?

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Why does my life feel like an endless struggle with fear?
The unknown. Life. Death. Purpose. Career. Family. Legacy. School. Afterlife. Faith. Fate. Destiny. Passion. Wealth. Work. Poverty. Money. Goals. Dreams. Friendship. Relationship. Marriage. Children. Siblings. Family. Fame. Depression. Mental health. Me.
This fear, this long list of fears that lays a tireless siege on my adult spirit, is boundless.

I want to be that child again,
That child, who refused to allow an ugly event to deprive her of the beauty of creation.
I want to be that child whose fascination with the beauty of roses couldn’t be paused by the prick of thorns.