The story

I don’t remember getting my scar. I fell out of my cot. I was two. I was always a climber. I only know what I was told later on. the doctor was called, and he came to the house. My God Mother held me while he stitched me up.

My scar is on my face, over my eye and down my left cheek.

I fell on a cup which was on the floor.

It doesn’t bother me now. I’ve grown up with it. It bothered me more when I was school age., but there was another boy at school with a worse scar on his face, and if anyone teased me about mine, he’d just hit them.

I wouldn’t change it now. It’s part of me. Some people don’t even notice it. It’s worse, I think you can notice it in cold weather. I’ve never ever tried to cover it up.

It’s all I’ve known. 

Commissioned by

Logo link to DaDaFest website
Logo link to Arts Council website