The Transplant Girl

By AKUA KEZIA

A deeply emotional true story containing a series of traumatic experiences when a young, troubled schoolgirl must face the harsh reality of life vs death. Akua undergoes life-threatening surgery that changes her life forever. She begins to shut herself away from the world and drowns in her deepest darkest thoughts. Her world comes crashing down until she meets a young man who begins to fill her empty life with meaning. He knows nothing about her past so she must choose between keeping her life a secret and letting him in... Which does she choose?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Akua Kezia
• Release date: Jul 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781788081306

Book preview

Table of Contents

The Transplant Girl

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Born in North London, Akua Kezia is the youngest child of three. Growing up, Akua Kezia was a peculiar young girl with many different talents. She often found herself in the wrong places at the wrong times just to fit in. However, she was given a chance to redeem herself after having a liver transplant. After graduating from University, Akua Kezia is now an entrepreneur and published her first book, The Transplant Girl, to inspire many young people worldwide who are battling ill health.

The transplant girl

I am so in love with this book, it’s very relatable yet so beautiful.

-Rae Levine

This is truly an emotional book. I definitely cried a few times. Every chapter was emotive, shocking and educational all at the same time. Brilliant read!

-Kathy Menigham

The Transplant Girl was totally addictive, I couldn’t put it down! I can’t believe this is a true story... captivating, emotional and inspiring.

-Christabel Ngozi

The Transplant Girl digs into the lives of many of the younger generation today. Akua Kezia has a fantastic story to tell. Brave young lady.

-Eden Ladirvers, Bookers (5/5)

A DEEPLY EMOTIONAL TRUE STORY

THE

TRANSPLANT

GIRL

WRITTEN BY

AKUA KEZIA

THE

TRANSPLANT

GIRL

Copyright © 2018 by Akua Kezia

The right of Akua Kezia as the recognized author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or used in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher expect for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is based on a true story. All events, locations and incidents are real. However, names of the characters have been changed to keep their identity confidential.

First published in 2018

Cover Design by Kate Covers

Edited by Flora Brown

British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data: a catalogue record for the book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978-1-7880-8130-6

Printed in the United States

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Without the Lord, I am nothing. With the Lord, I am EVERYTHING. I thank the Almighty God for blessing me with this incredible story to tell. I give Him all the praise and adoration. I pray that God will continue to favor me and shower me with blessings, abundantly. I pray that I shall dwell in the house of the Lord, forever and ever, amen.

Dear Mummy Minka, I want to thank you for looking after me. You taught me how to be strong and overcome my worries. You showed me how to live life again. You shielded me from pain and troubles. You guided me into adulthood and made me into the women I am today. Any female can have a child, but it takes a real woman to be a mother. I thank God that He gave me to you.

To my two beautiful big sisters, Sarah and Ivana. You always treat me like your little sister. Yes, it gets annoying, and yes, we fight sometimes, but our moments will remain priceless. I wouldn’t trade you two girls for anything in this world.

To my Ohene, you taught me how to love, how to be successful and how to love myself. You showed me that there’s a whole life outside of my bedroom and took me there. You gave me happiness when I thought I never needed it. You gave me stability and helped me back on my feet every time. You were a friend when no one else was. Most importantly, you’ve been a friend indeed. I am forever grateful to you.

To my readers, I thank you for opening your hearts wide enough to read my book. I can only hope that my book inspires you all to go on and do great things in your lives. I know that life is not easy, but success is never too far away, and nothing is impossible. I wish you peace and prosperity.

So, where should I start? Should I start with the constant nightmare I had of my mum trying to kill me repeatedly? Maybe I should start with the first time I tried to kill myself? Oh, or perhaps I should start with the time I had my first seizure and nearly died? Okay, maybe I am jumping the gun a little bit. Let me just start from the beginning.

1

I CANNOT BE TAMED.

––––––––

July, 2009.

Finally, the last lesson of the day. English. School kids were always so fidgety after lunchtime. Everyone was just doing their own thing. We were reading Dracula. This class was always so boring, I could never focus. School was out for the year in two weeks anyway, so I didn’t care about any of my lessons anymore. I wasn’t the smartest kid, but I definitely wasn’t the dumbest.

I didn’t need to learn this stuff, what would I ever need English for? It’s an everyday skill! Miss Bailer was staring at me as if I was supposed to read her mind. Well, two could play at that game. Ugh, I hated her with a passion! She was the most horrific teacher ever; she singled me out all the time. Most of the time it wasn’t even me that was talking or being disruptive!

It was just easier for her to pick on me because I was a loud mouth. Oh great. Now she’s stormed out of the classroom in hysterics because apparently, we’re all ‘too nasty and mean’ for her to deal with. Get over yourself, Miss! We’re kids; we’re supposed to be mean, duh. I turned to my partner in crime Brandy, to discuss the plan I’d just concocted to get out of this class. I was over Miss Bailer and her dramatic episodes.

Hi, my name is Una. I’m thirteen and... well, how can I put this nicely? I’m known to be a handful to deal with, to say the least. I was proficient in my job, and my job was indulging myself in trouble. My constant attitude about almost anything and everything was my specialty. No one could ever try and intimidate me or make me feel young. I didn’t care if you’re older or younger; if you disrespected me, I'd give it back ten times harder.

I was bullied for three years in primary school and my first year of secondary school, so I constantly had my guard up. It all started in primary school when a boy threw a glue stick at my eye in year five. I was bloodshot for days, and that’s when I became ruthless. I wasn’t the most popular girl in my year, but I was certainly known, you couldn’t miss me. My beady eyes and piercing laugh could be heard from miles away.

I was in year eight. My sister, Ivana was in year eleven and leaving secondary school for good. Oh, how I was going to miss her. My mum put us in the same secondary school so she could keep an eye on me. Ivana was three years older than me. We never really got on, but when push came to shove, we had each other’s back every single time.

When I started secondary school, she was still there and looked after me. She was extremely popular in secondary school, and all the boys loved her. She was the girl in your year group that you’d envy because she got all the attention. Her narcissism was her selling point. I remember after school, or on weekends I would hang out with her, her popular friends, and some of the boys in her year group. I felt like such a big girl.

I spent most of my time conversing on MSN. I had so many contacts, and half of them were Ivana’s friends. I remember one boy found out that I was getting bullied in school on MSN and he messaged me saying he would ‘sort out’ the bullies, whatever that meant. I just felt cool. Ivana was also very smart, so she gained brownie points from some teachers. All I’d ever hear was, Aww, you’re Ivana’s little sister! You’re so cute.

I managed to make friends with some girls a year above me because of Ivana. They looked after me in year eight when Ivana finished year eleven. Once she left, it was down to me to look after myself in school. Ivana had already frightened off the bullies that bullied me in year seven, so I felt a little more secure.

2009 was the year of the swine flu epidemic, so I thought that it would be a good idea to be a Good Samaritan. I had a big tub of anti-bacterial and let my whole class use it every time anyone coughed or sneezed. How typical of me. Well, I guess I was very unlucky because I ended up catching the swine flu three weeks after finishing year nine. Don’t ask how.

When school resumed in September, all my friends and classmates laughed at me because I was so melodramatic about swine flu only to catch it myself. Christmas time that year also wasn't a great time at home. My granddad passed away the day after Christmas day. Mummy was completely deteriorated, and the family just wasn’t the same after that fateful day. I remember there were times when I would just lay in bed, cry and talk to myself.

I used to feel my granddad around me after he passed away, so it was a crazy experience. I would just sob and pray, then suddenly feel a strong presence right beside me. I just always assumed that it was my grandad, although I never told anyone. Christmas holidays went on for what felt like forever until January approached and school resumed. I wasn’t so keen to go back because of grandad, but I didn’t have a choice. I also wasn’t keen on going back to hanging out with the completely wrong crowd either.

I spoke to nearly all the girls in my year group, but I had six main friends that I talked to and hung out with every day. My best friend Eliza got yanked out of the school by her mum because she thought that I was becoming a bad influence on her. Story of my life. I never did half of the things my friends did, yet I was the bad one, psht.

Most of my friends just liked hanging around in parks while smoking and drinking. We would occasionally have sleepovers and just wander around at night talking about our crushes at school and other surrounding schools. I had so many friends on Myspace, so I knew quite a few boys from the schools, but I never really fit into the girl group and everyone knew it.

I just wanted to feel like a part of something cool in school, so I used to follow whatever they’d say and do. Little did I know what my ‘friends’ had in store for me. I suddenly began to feel ill from time to time, but I never let it stop me from hanging out after school with my friends; that was very important to me.

Your reputation in secondary school is everything. However, there was one particular day that refrained me from hanging out with my friends or anyone for a while. I was at the bus stop with one of my friends after school, when this African lady stood right in front of me and screamed.

‘AYE! YOUR EYES ARE YELLOW! NO, YOU NEED TO SEE A DOCTOR PLEASE. YOUR EYES ARE VERY YELLOW!’

If I wasn't a dark-skinned girl, I swear I would've gone red at that moment. Bearing in mind that there was only one bus that stopped at the bus stop and almost every kid from my school was there to witness the humiliating scene. As soon as I got home, I found mummy in the living room relaxing.

Mummy! Are my eyes yellow? Seriously? She turned to me, and her reaction said it all.

Oh, my goodness! How did I miss this? No, something is wrong! When did you notice this? She bent my head back and forced my eyes to open as wide as possible.

I was telling her about the embarrassing event that had just transpired. She giggled a bit at the thought of the African lady making a scene. That was so typical of my mum; she was never on my side. My mum would stand behind anyone that was not one of her own.

Whenever I got into trouble, she never allowed me to explain what really happened! I mean, there are two sides to every story you know. Sheesh! Anyway, back to mummy. I really love her. She was truly one of a kind. She wasn’t your ‘typical’ African mum. She was so reserved and lenient and was always with the times. She taught primary school kids, so she definitely knew the latest trends. She always loved kids. I think I got my love for kids from her. Every day, I’d dream of how many kids I wanted, their names, and how the baby rooms would look like. I was obsessed.

Mummy was so beautiful. She has the most youthful face I’ve ever seen. She just doesn’t age. She looks even younger than how she looked in her pictures twenty years ago. I’ve never seen a spot on her face nor have I ever seen her get any facial treatments to keep her skin looking young. She sure was blessed. She had a petite frame, so she was often mistaken for my older sister whenever we were out together. She used to call me her handbag when I was younger because I would follow her everywhere. Now that I’ve grown up a little, I could now fit her in my pocket.

We’re from Ghana, in West Africa. It’s such a beautiful country filled with beautiful people, but they’re too traditional, I think my mum was just an anomaly. Mummy and her sisters were close, but her sisters were the opposites of my mum. Especially my Aunty Layla. I found that so strange because they all grew up together. They were loud and exuberant like me and mummy was just, quiet.

Well, not at home with my sisters and me anyway. All she did was shout. Shout, shout, and shout from morning till night. I think it was all the hormones that were being extricated between four females living in one place. We weren’t well off. Heck, we lived in a small council flat with two rooms. It was cramped, but it was what we called home. Mummy worked her butt off to make a life for herself when she moved to London, but I always seemed to dismiss that.

Okay, don’t panic. We’ll go to the GP first thing tomorrow morning; we need to get to the bottom of this. I’m just praying that it’s nothing too serious. Mummy ushered me out of the living room to change out of my school clothes and get some warm food in my tummy.

Sigh... the GP. I hated injections, and I can't swallow tablets to save my life. Mummy always had to cut my paracetamol tablets into quarters. Even then, I still couldn’t swallow them without acting out a dramatic movie scene. Bring on tomorrow then.

Mummy and I woke up early to get ready. The GP was only up the road, so we decided to walk. We checked in at the reception; to tell you the truth, I was tensed. I just kept thinking of the last time I was here before I was stricken down with swine flu and was prescribed paracetamol. Mummy had to cut it up with a bread knife only for me to refuse the whole tablet and go to bed with a massive headache. Such a silly move. I didn't sleep a wink that night.

My name appeared on the board in big bold red lights to go to room fifteen. Mummy and I proceeded to go into the doctor’s room.

I hated going to the GP, but I loved my GP doctor, Doctor Morasett. He was extremely sweet and nonchalant about everything and always made me feel at ease whenever I came to see him. However, mummy was acting like a mad woman.

Look at my daughter’s eyes! They’re very yellow, she’s been sick and has not been going to school. Why was she lying? Doctor Morasett took one glance at me.

Do you drink water, Una? He leaned into his chair, awaiting my response.

Erm, not really, to be honest. I detested water. Why would anybody want to drink something that had no taste what so ever?

Yes, mum. She just needs to drink water, that's all. You know these young kids of today only like sweets and fizzy drink. Get her to drink warm water every morning, and she'll be fine, he responded while reclining back into his chair and peering out of the window. He seemed exceptionally calm today. Mummy turned to me with a very disapproving look on her face. It's like she wanted to insult him, but she was keeping her cool.

Okay but get her booked for a blood test. I want to check if she is fully alright. Nope! No blood tests! I shot right up.

Mum! Come on the doctor is always right. I just need to drink water. I'm just a young kid that loves sweets and fizzy drinks. Come on, let’s go and put the kettle on!

If looks could kill, there would have been a murder scene there and then. She didn’t find that funny in the slightest. Nonetheless, Doctor Morasett got a blood test booked for me, and I was due for it the following week. Of course, mummy wanted to attend the appointment too because she didn’t trust that I'd actually go. I wouldn’t trust me either.

It was my first time having a blood test, and I swore that it would be my last. I was so queasy afterwards, I couldn't even stand straight. The nurse that conducted the blood test informed me that I would feel lightheaded after and I should eat something sweet to get my energy back. My oh my, did I milk the 'eat something sweet' part.

A Mars bar had never tasted so good until that day. The nurse informed us that the hospital would send the results in the post and if there was anything wrong, they would refer me to a specialist doctor for a proper examination. Blah blah blah, I was fine. Anyway, I needed to get to school pronto. I had to tell my friends what I was planning for my fourteenth birthday!

P.E. was the first lesson of the day, and we were on the trampolines. This was the perfect time to tell my friends what they were going to help me with. We were all in the same P.E. class, so I never missed a lesson.

Girls, I’m piercing my navel myself, and you’re all going to help me. Come to mine after school and let’s do it. I was a piercing fanatic; I did all my piercings myself. I did my first piercing in the school toilets with one of my friends in year eight. I felt like such a badass that day.

So far, I had five piercings, and they were all on my ears. Mummy freaked out every time, but nothing was ever done about it. I did whatever I wanted, and she knew that. As soon as school finished, the girls and I boarded the school bus all the way to my house. They all crowded around the living room and watched me prepare to pierce my navel. I heated the needle with one of the girls’ lighters and jabbed it through my stomach. Uh oh, this didn’t look right. Just as the needle tore through the last bit of skin, I heard keys rummage through the door. Shit, mummy’s home.

2

Something’s wrong.

––––––––

So, my fourteenth birthday went tits up. I ended up falling out with all my friends. They all kind of tag-teamed against me, and all decided to stop talking to me because I didn’t want to smoke and drink with them. They started telling everyone in our year that I crochet baby clothes and I was weird for crocheting, so nobody should hang out with me. I had yet another strange and sick episode, so I went to school late that following Monday.

The first lesson after break time was geography, and everyone was in that class. I walked in feeling so awkward because everyone was staring at me. One of the girls snickered and whispered something. I didn’t even care anymore. Don’t be my friend, whatever.

It was just too coincidental that I began to feel very unwell at the same time. I started missing certain classes just to avoid my ex-friends. I started attending my classes late or I camped out in the girls’ toilets throughout the lesson period. The hospital called mummy three weeks after my blood test and said that my blood test results were inconclusive, and I would need to come back for another one. Inconclusive? What did that even mean? I thought blood tests are meant to be accurate? Isn’t it lie detector tests that are like 96% accurate? No way was I going back to do another test; they had me fucked up.

Mummy said that she'd book another test in two weeks during the May half term because she couldn’t take time off work during a school term. Well, that was fine by me! Take your time sweet mother I am not in a rush. I definitely should’ve been because my ‘common cold' started getting worse. I had constant nosebleeds for two weeks straight. The yellow discoloring in my eyes was getting much worse and the discoloration was spreading to my palms. Crikey.

Mummy thought that I was just trying to skive off school because I was having problems with my friends. Heck, I even started to believe I was faking it. I came home from school one day and wrote a letter to my mum explaining why I decided to quit school. She simply looked me