Helping Ifeoma: A Nigerian Christmas Story

When Flashback Girl came out, I achieved the smallest amount of fame possible to fit within a loose definition of “famous.” I used to joke with my husband Doug. “I’m big in Yardley, Pennsylvania, and in the burn community. That’s it.”

He’d tease, “You’re big in Yardley, huh?”  At a local Halloween party, a woman  met me, and praised my book, which pleased me. Then she turned to my husband, and exclaimed, “My God, that means that YOU'RE DOUG!”

He replied, “Well yes I am.” His bemused smile made me laugh. What fun.

One thing that wasn’t fun, though, was receiving requests for money from burned people around the world. Every one of them gutted me. It was hard saying no but yes wasn’t an option. Being a less-than-famous author is essentially a money-losing proposition, and I couldn’t afford to help all these strangers. But then there was Amy.

Amy wrote me from Nigeria. She’d read my comment on an online burn support forum, and she requested help for her daughter. Ifeoma had second and third-degree burns, which were healing poorly.

Ifeoma in Nigeria

 My first reaction was mixed despair and annoyance. How could I possibly help this Nigerian girl? But Amy was a compelling woman, with little money, trying to help her daughter in a country with limited resources.  She wrote, “Every day I look at my child and I am helpless and confused. The other day she came back from school crying, and she told me she wouldn't want to go to school again because the children are laughing at her.”

Gut-wrenching, but what could I do? Then, I wondered… Do Shriners help international children? When I was burned in 1967, the Shriners saved my life and paid for all my surgeries. I am one of thousands—millions?—of burned children who survived due to their generosity. I investigated whether Shriners ever take international burned children—and they do.

I encouraged Amy to apply to Shriners. But this meant completing a 12-page application. Amy wrote by painstakingly pecking on her phone. She didn’t have a computer and she had terrible internet access.

At my suggestion, she called Shriners, but the audio reception was terrible. So, I called them myself and got bounced from one number to the next. But, thanks to my connections, I knew the actual head of Boston Shriners and I contacted him. He connected me to the person in charge of international admissions, who sent me… yet another massive application.

 The saga continued for months. Sometimes, I felt annoyed. Amy would ask me to complete forms for her. She would ask me to send emails for her. I would write back, “Can you find an internet café? Can you ask someone very nice there to help you? Amy, I don’t work for Shriners, so I don’t know the answers. I’m just trying to help.”

 Sometimes I’d mutter to myself, “Why am I even doing this? This is not my problem. I don’t know this woman and I don’t know this child.” But then I’d look around my warm house, with my comfortable life and think…good Lord, I have everything. This is the least I can do.

Then, a new issue arose, a big one… Amy wrote, “When I take her to school or church, people always stare and children point at her. As her mum, it kills me inside. That is why I want better for her.”  

My heart broke reading her words. Then, Amy wrote that she needed a sponsor. I looked it up. Sponsoring Ifeoma would cost hundreds of dollars.

Feeling sad, guilty and conflicted, I replied, “Amy, I am sorry but I am not able to sponsor your child. I have limited time and finances, and I must use them for my own family. I do hope that you call Shriners, because maybe someone there can guide you on this problem. I wish you the best of luck.”

Amy despaired. Ifeoma’s application was set up correctly, but it was hopelessly stalled, between the Nigerian doctor’s delays, the red tape, the Shriners’ application, the connectivity issues. She wrote, “This is the only opportunity I have ever gotten for her, but it seems everything was only but a wish. I am pained as a mum seeing my child this way. I don't know what else to do. I just want her to have a better life. That's all I want for her. She's a very sweet, kind and cheerful girl. Dr. Lise I am very sad.”

Then I heard nothing.

Years passed, years in which I flew around the country, presenting about burn issues. I keynoted major events. I did a virtual presentation in New Zealand. I spoke to the Security and Exchange Commission. I spoke at two Shriners events. It was exciting.

Sometimes, though, it was hard. There were many disappointments. As a rough guess, there were 85% rejections for every 15% of acceptances. Organizations which didn’t hire me, even though I’d be a perfect fit. Magazines I’d submit articles to, which turned me down…repeatedly. Every one of those rejections stung.

I began feeling like what I was doing no longer mattered. It was a combination—professional rejections, hurtful people, my usual autumn blues. I wondered if anything I wrote or spoke about helped anyone anymore.

On November 13, in the middle of my funk,  I received a message from Amy. It’d been years. She wrote that Shriners had approved her daughter and that she’d finally secured visas. They would be coming to Boston soon, and Ifeoma would have life-changing surgeries. She thanked me profusely.  I was overjoyed—uplifted.  I felt like maybe some of my efforts mattered. At the very least, they would matter to Ifeoma.

A day later, Amy wrote that she needed airline tickets but couldn’t afford them. She asked me to pay for her tickets from Nigeria to Boston. Tickets that would cost $2,500. Despair.

Again, I was torn. It made me suspicious to be asked for things that cost considerable money, by someone I’d never met. My husband wondered, “Are you sure she is for real? Do you know anyone who actually knows her? How do you know this isn’t just a scam?”

“I have never given her money. I just help.”

It turned out that one thing that Amy and I had in common was wary partners. Amy’s husband had asked her if Shriners could be for real. “When I told my husband about Shriners, he was quite skeptical, and he said nobody does anything free for anyone.”

I wasn’t going to buy the airline tickets, but I had resources. I posted about Ifeoma on Facebook. Friends chimed in with ideas… Go Fund Me pages, donating airline miles. Some suggested charitable organizations such as Angel Flights and Children’s Flights of Hope. But the main suggestion was that Shriners would probably pay for the flights, if Amy asked. And indeed, as soon as she did, Shriners purchased the tickets.

I wrote to Amy, happy, but cautioning her not to expect complete medical miracles. As my surgeon used to say to me, scars are scars. You can improve them, but you will always be scarred. Amy responded, “Yes, I understand that scars cannot just go, but improving its appearance is enough for us. At school and even in church, people always stare and point at her. I want her to be brave and have a good and positive image of herself. I don't want her to have a low self-esteem.”

Amy and Ifeoma, arriving at Shriners Burns Hospital in Boston

Last week, I received a panicked series of communications from Amy. They’d arrived in Boston, but her phone stopped working and she needed a new one. Could I help her? They needed clothes. They were cold. She was lonely.

Only the accident of birth separated Ifeoma’s story from mine. I was born in the USA, with phones that work, internet access, great schools, financial comfort, and the luxury of knowing the right people. I could bring all these resources to help.

I emailed the head of BSONE (Burn Survivors of New England). I emailed the psychologist at Shriners. I posted online. I sent Amy links to organizations that raise funds for burned kids, who’d reached out to me, offering to help.

 Amy got her phone fixed. BSONE is getting them clothes and has taken this family under their generous wing. And, I’m happy to say that Ifeoma just had her first surgery at Shriners. She’s doing really well.

Ifeoma, recovering at Shriners from her first surgery

Amy said to me recently, “How can I even repay you?”

“You can help other people who need help some day. That is how I like to think of it. We help someone, then they help someone, then they help someone. And together we make the world a better place.”

That’s my message here, on Christmas time, this season of generosity and welcoming the stranger. Life is hard and terribly unfair. Who knows why we suffer, why little girls get burned, why we struggle?

I don’t know. But I do know it feels good to help people. I know it feels good to look past my petty annoyances and be part of a greater good. I know it feels good to share this story about a brave girl and her scrappy mom who toiled for years, overcame many obstacles, and shepherded her daughter across the ocean for stellar medical care.

 We can each make the world a better place in our own small way. We can smile. We can give. We look past our fears and fatigue and see the best in each other.

 We can help.

P.S. If you wish to donate to Shriners, you can help other children like Ifeoma.

Lise Deguire's multiple award-winning memoir, Flashback Girl: Lessons on Resilience from a Burn Survivor, is available for purchase on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Newtown Book Shop and The Commonplace Reader.