At 17, she survived a tragic road accident that confined her to a hospital bed for months. Her legs, stomach, and arms were severely burned in the blaze that erupted following the crash. While her body eventually healed, the emotional scars lingered for years. The stares, the comments – all of it was unbearable until she chose to embrace her scars.
Without question, Bibi Babatunde-Ikotun knows exactly who she is. Her identity is firmly planted in her faith.
“I’m a child of God. Jesus Christ is my life, literally,” Bibi told The Weight She Carries. “I’m also very warm and loyal, and I would describe myself as a ray of sunshine.”
Raised as a pastor’s kid and now married to one, serving the needs of her community is ingrained in her being. By day, she works as a fundraiser and digital creator; at home, she is a mom and wife.
Working on behalf of someone who needs your assistance can put you in a position where you have to fight really hard to get the services and help that person needs.
Growing up in Nigeria as the third of six children was both fun and chaotic, Bibi said.
“I use the word chaotic because we are all girls! I don’t have a brother,” she said. “So, as you can imagine, six girls in one home is chaotic.”
“I give my parents props because they did a good job raising us. We were sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, but at the same time, we were equipped to go into the world and be awesome individuals.”
At 19, Bibi moved to the United States alone to pursue a master’s degree.
Perhaps one of the reasons why Bibi has such a heart for helping others is because she has lived through some dark moments.
In March of 2012, while in university, Bibi was involved in a car accident. She was 17 years old.
She was a student executive and secretary of one of the school departments. Every year, her department planned a field trip. That year, the school traveled to the coastal town of Badagry, one of the major slave trade ports.
“A lot more people showed up than we had planned for,” Bibi said. “There wasn’t a lot of space on the bus, so as a student leader, I gave up my seat.”
The long bus ride was very uncomfortable for Bibi and others who had to stand, so on the way back, she opted to ride in a different vehicle.
“I remember that day vividly. I was so tired and exhausted. I sent a text to my then-boyfriend because I hadn’t spoken to him all day… ‘Hi, how are you? It was a very busy day, and I didn’t get to talk to you today. Will call you tomorrow.’ I put my head on the window to take a nap. Before I knew it, all I could remember hearing was a loud, ringing sound in my head. I went unconscious.”
When Bibi woke up, she was being transported from her school to a teaching university.
“Keep pinching me so I know that you’re awake!” a lady kept saying.
That was weird. Confused, Bibi obliged but couldn’t comprehend what was happening.
Once at the hospital, a medical team attended to Bibi as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She later learned what happened from those who had witnessed the accident.
The bus driver had been intoxicated. When he tried to overtake a car on a two-lane road, his judgment was flawed. There was an oncoming vehicle. The bus driver swerved into the thick bush by the side of the road. The oncoming car flipped several times before catching fire. With no seatbelts in the bus, Bibi was thrown from the bus and landed on the burning car.
“They found me under that car,” she said. “My legs were burning, my arm got burned, and I have a big burn scar on my stomach.”
It was a miracle she had been spotted in the flames that surrounded the car. In addition to the burns, Bibi had injuries to her forehead, eyes, and a crack on her cranium.
“I was in and out of consciousness for the next four days. My body had gone through so much trauma that it didn’t know what to do. My body was severely swollen. When my mom first saw me, she fainted. Not knowing how bad things were, I was more concerned about not being able to wear shorts anymore.”
The pain after Bibi’s first surgery was excruciating. To prevent infection, her wounds had to be cleaned and rebandaged every other day. The process was grueling.
“That was when I went into depression. Back then, in Nigeria, we didn’t have a lot of psychological care. I didn’t have a therapist to help me process the trauma. As a result, I was often mean to my mom. She paused her career to be with me, but I mistreated her sometimes. I didn’t even realize that until I was an adult.”
For the next months, Bibi’s life was on hold. She missed her friends. They were all carrying on with life while she was stuck in a hospital bed.
“Why did this have to happen to me? My phone got lost during the accident, so I didn’t even have a phone to stay in touch with anyone. It was my mom and me all the time. She was always there.”
Weeks turned to months, and Bibi remained bedridden. A second surgery followed, then skin graft surgery.
“I spent five months of my life in a room. There were no windows. Not only was I boxed in physically, but I was also boxed in mentally. I didn’t even know what the outside of my room looked like.”
Every morning, her mother would wake her up, bathe her, and brush her teeth.
Being bedridden for so long, Bibi had gained a significant amount of weight. When she finally left the hospital, she tried to resume normal life as a teenager but couldn’t. Life as she knew it was over.
“I didn’t feel beautiful anymore. I tried to overcompensate with makeup because, at least, if you were looking at my face, you wouldn’t be looking at my legs,” she said. “Growing up, my sisters always told me I had the hottest legs. Now I didn’t anymore.”
Ultimately, the stares and comments got to her. Strangers would tell her she had scars like they were telling her something she didn’t already know. Their words cut deep. No one knew how much courage it took for her to step out of the house each day.
To avoid the attention, Bibi decided to just cover her legs with long skirts. She decided she would rather deal with the hot Nigerian sun than insensitive and mean comments. So she changed her wardrobe completely. On occasions when she did wear shorts, she wore tights underneath.
During the summer, Bibi returned to school to catch up on classes and write the exams she had missed while in hospital. She passed, but soon rumors began circulating that her professors had simply passed her out of pity.
“It was hurtful. I didn’t feel beautiful, and now I didn’t even feel smart.”
From time to time, Bibi would test the waters and leave her tights behind when she stepped out of the house. On those days, her bravery was met with negativity. People wouldn’t just stare, they would look at her as if she were repulsive. Her family tried to assure her that her scars were not a big deal, but strangers convinced her otherwise.
Feeling unworthy, she dated guys who treated her poorly.
“I was dealing with so many self-issues; I was open to dating people I had no business being in a relationship with. I dated this guy for a very long time, but it was unhealthy,” she said.
Some friends told her she was lucky to “at least have a boyfriend.” They meant well, but such statements were demeaning. They implied that she should be grateful someone, anyone, was willing to love her.
Things took a turn for Bibi when she moved to the USA for graduate school. It was an opportunity for a new start. She arrived in winter and made some friends. The cold weather was perfect because she could cover up without looking out of place. As summer approached, she began to feel anxious.
“I started having palpitations. I had promised myself when I moved to America that I would no longer hide my scars. The first time my church friends ever saw my scars was at a 4th of July barbecue party. I’d bought a short dress and was determined to wear it.”
In the car on her way to the party, Bibi second-guessed her decision. Was this a mistake? But when she arrived, no one batted an eye.
“My new friends treated me the same way they had for the last eight months. None of them cared about my scars! They didn’t look at me in disgust. They saw me for me; they loved me for me. It was so liberating. Now I knew I could wear a shirt dress without feeling embarrassed.”
The acceptance was refreshing and marked a significant point in Bibi’s healing. She could finally be herself and not feel self-conscious about her scars.
After university, Bibi returned to Nigeria to work for a year. One day, she chose to wear a blazer paired with a short skirt that revealed her scarred legs. She felt confident, but someone made a snarky comment about her scars and the need to cover her legs. Instead of caving in to the pressure, Bibi stood her ground and simply said, “Nah, I think I’m okay. I think my scars make me really interesting. People will wonder what my story is.”
“When I responded like that, I knew I had come a long way. I was so proud of myself in that moment,” Bibi said. “Before, I would have run and cried and been so sad, so broken, and so defeated. Now I can stand and say, ‘This is me. These are my scars. I own them. They are mine.’”
The days of dreading the stares were behind her, and Bibi stepped out confidently and unfazed.
Reflecting on her healing journey, Bibi acknowledges a key element that made a world of difference to her.
“My healing was truly complete when I reignited my relationship with Christ and saw, through the Word of God, that I was complete. Nothing was missing, nothing was lost, nothing was broken. My scars don’t define me. I am not my scars, they’re just scars. It’s no big deal. It’s not who I am. I didn’t arrive here overnight. It was a long, difficult journey.”
Encouragement to women struggling to embrace physical imperfections:
- Be kind to yourself – Your journey to healing is not linear, so don’t be hard on yourself. Some days you may feel you have accepted yourself and are confident. On other days, you will really feel like crap. That’s the journey. You have to be kind to yourself. If you’re not kind to yourself, you’re giving other people the ammunition to be mean to you. If someone told you your story as if it happened to them, how would you respond? A lot of us would respond with empathy. So why can’t we internalize that empathy?
- Don’t minimize your experience – You went through something major; no one can take that away from you; it happened. Don’t diminish it. It’s a huge deal. Saying, ‘At least the scars are not on my face,’ is diminishing the experience. Whether it’s on your face or your legs, something major happened.
- Stand up for yourself – Even if you do it scared, be scared, but still do it. Do it! If someone says something rude about it, stand up for yourself and say, ‘Oh, you don’t like my scars? Well, I like them.’ It might be a lie, but standing up for yourself is one way of reminding yourself that you’re there for you. We have to learn how to be there for ourselves.
- Affirm yourself – Stand in front of a mirror, look at the scars, and say words of affirmation to yourself. Some days you may not feel it’s true, but look yourself in the mirror, tell yourself you are beautiful and worthy, and accept yourself. Many times, we wait for people to accept us. Well, before they can accept us, we must accept ourselves. Pull up a chair and bring yourself to the table. Stop waiting for the table to call you, bring yourself. It’s so key. It’s so important.
Vimbai E. is a content marketer, ghostwriter, and the founder of The Weight She Carries. With hundreds of articles and stories publishing online, in print and for broadcast, her love of language and storytelling shines through every piece of writing that bears her name.