“I was conscious while they cut me open,” she recalls quietly, eyes fixed on a distant memory. “The spinal injection didn’t work, but the doctor began the surgery anyway. By the fourth cut, I held his hand and screamed.”
That experience, she says, became the breaking point that rebuilt her. “It made me realise how women’s voices are often ignored in spaces that concern their own bodies,” Blessing explains. “I stopped being silent that day. Pain made me speak.”
What began as a routine childbirth became a turning point. When her anaesthetic failed during surgery, Blessing endured what no patient should. “I could hear everything, feel everything,” she remembers. “And when the nurse finally shouted that the spinal didn’t work, they had to give me general anaesthesia.”
The trauma stayed with her long after the operating room lights dimmed. But out of that darkness emerged a new awareness — one about women’s autonomy, maternal health, and the unspoken emotional toll many women carry.
“We are often told to be strong, to endure, to keep quiet,” she says. “But I’ve learned that strength also means speaking up.”
Her second pregnancy brought more lessons — this time about control and cultural expectations. A nurse once questioned her decision to have another C-section, asking why her mother-in-law hadn’t approved.
“That moment shook me,” Blessing says. “It made me realise that too many women’s bodies are treated like community property. My body is mine. I get to decide what happens to it.”
Now a mental health advocate, Blessing channels her experiences into creating safe spaces for women to talk about trauma, depression, and emotional recovery. Through her work, she urges society to listen to women, believe their stories, and respect their choices.
“Many women go through pain in silence,” she reflects. “They smile through it because they think nobody will understand. But if my voice can help even one woman seek help, then that pain wasn’t wasted.”
Today, her tone carries not the bitterness of suffering, but the conviction of healing. “I’ve learned that healing doesn’t mean forgetting,” she says with a faint smile. “It means owning your scars — and helping others find the strength to face theirs.”
Blessing’s story is not just about survival; it’s about transformation — a testament to how one woman’s voice, born from anguish, can echo hope for countless others.