In the summer of 2009 I returned to Nigeria for the first time. A few days into the holiday I was at my Aunt’s house watching a cartoon called ‘The Wild Thornberry’s’ while doing a headstand on the couch. Back then, standing on my head seemed to make every activity more enjoyable. At some point during the episode that I was watching my grandma called to say that breakfast was ready. Now, I love food, but I was also very engrossed in the episode, so I tried to gracefully dismount from my headstand whilst keeping my eyes fixed on the television. Sadly, I was not 100% successful, and I gracefully dismounted into a glass coffee table, cutting my leg open. What a way to start a holiday!

Many things came as a result of my clumsiness that day (one of which being, me no longer enjoying watching ‘The Wild Thornberry’s’ in the same way) and out of the situation I got a small introduction to two important parts of life: priorities and consequences.

Firstly, I learnt a bit about priorities. That day I was given a real Sophie’s choice: television or food. I still find it to be a tough decision today. But even with me deciding to get food, my inner fool was still urging me to keep my eyes fixed on the TV. Looking back now, my decision to give in to that little voice was very ill-advised and caused many problems. The only real consolation is that I’m not the only one with prioritisation issues.

In 1588, Spain was on the verge of war with England. King Phillip was tired of Queen Elizabeth’s provocations and was finally ready to act.  So, on that fateful night, before his army was set to sail upstream towards the Channel, what was he doing? Rallying his men, giving them the world’s greatest pep talk? Doing final checks to make sure that everything was ready?

Nope. The king was making his final decision on the design of clerical vestments. On the verge of war, Phillip was deciding what type of gowns the clergy should be wearing. The man clearly had his priorities sorted.

I remember first learning of this story in a history lesson and thinking to myself how ridiculous Phillip was. His focus was severely misdirected. However, I too was guilty of misguided focus when smashing my leg into the coffee table. I was just fortunate enough to not suffer defeat in battle as a consequence.

All actions have consequences, that was the second lesson that I learnt that day. Before that day I was definitely aware of that fact (like I knew if I didn’t answer my grandma when she was calling me, I could be facing serious repercussions), but I think that was the day where I really witnessed the extent to which my actions could impact not only myself, but also others.

The first consequence I experienced was pain. The initial injury didn’t hurt, it just felt like any other scrape. It was the treatment of the large wound that was painful. Methylated spirit and stitches are not my friends. At the end of the whole ordeal I was also left with the lovely parting gift of a large scar which brought a tragic end to any dreams I had of being a leg model. However, though the experience had a significant impact on me, in many ways it caused far more issues for my parents.

I can’t even begin to imagine what I put my parents through. They planned on having a nice holiday to Nigeria where they could visit family and friends, sort out passports and relax. Instead, their ten-year-old idiot had them racing around the city to hospitals because the most important thing in her life seemed to be watching cartoons. Although the overall holiday was enjoyable, my actions caused a lot of people a lot of stress.

It’s funny how something as seemingly inconsequential as dismounting from a headstand can cause so much havoc. Even to this day, whenever my dad catches me doing a headstand, if I do not safely get myself into an upright position within 5 seconds, I am in trouble.

Gracefully dismounting into a glass table was definitely a memorable moment in my life, and something I would like to think I learned from, even if it was only in a small way. I wouldn’t say I became a different person as a result, or that I stopped listening to my inner fool, but it was a window into the wider world. It was one of the first times I remember personally experiencing the impact of the long words adults around me would talk about. It brought things like priority and consequence into my reality.