About Bem Akaanane: Spinal Cord Injury Survivor & Advocate for Inclusion

Life can change without warning, peaceful today, unpredictable tomorrow. I am Bem Akaanane, a spinal cord injury survivor from Benue State, Nigeria, whose life was shaken by a terrible accident but rebuilt through hope and determination. Like a tree that loses its leaves yet stands firm, I remain rooted in faith, strength, and courage.

My story is not about setbacks, it is about survival, healing, and purpose. Each day, I rise with determination. Each moment, I choose to live with meaning. I believe that even in brokenness, there is beauty, and even in pain, there is power.

As C.C. Scott said, The human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it. That truth is the light that guides my journey.

I stand not only for myself, but for others.
To raise awareness around spinal cord injury.
To advocate for disability rights, accessibility, and inclusion.
To speak hope into spaces where silence has stayed too long.
So that every life is seen, valued, and empowered.

My Early Life and Dreams.

I grew up with dreams that extended far beyond any limit. I wanted to be educated, to build a joyful home, and to walk beside my loved ones through every chapter of life.

My childhood was filled with laughter and light. Everything felt possible. I believed, like many young men do, that the future would always be better than the past.

The Turning Point

Unfortunately, life doesn’t always follow the plans we make. As the elders say, “the road is not always straight.” that day, [9th Aprail, 2012] everything changed!!!

A ghastly motor accident shattered the world I knew and left me with a C6–C7 spinal cord injury. Behold, In a single moment, the life I had imagined slipped through my fingers.

Walking, something that appears to be ordinary, so easy and is often taken for granted, was gone. It felt like watching your bird fly away from your open hand, knowing it may never return. From that day forward, the wheelchair became my new reality. My body was weak, but my heart was loud with questions. Why me? What now? How do I live with this?

I didn’t have answers. But I had a choice: to give up or to fight. And somewhere deep inside, I chose to fight.

Fall seven times and stand up eight.
— Japanese Proverb

My Struggles and Challenges After Injury

Life after the accident was very hard. I spent many months in the hospital and went through skull traction for six long weeks. It was stiff, painful, and slow. Afterwards, physiotherapy followed, and it was tough. Every small movement felt like climbing a hill.

Simple things like turning in bed, sitting up, or reaching for a cup of water became big challenges. Tasks I once did without thinking now took all my strength. The injury didn’t just affect my body; it changed my home too.

I was separated from my wife and son, and that hurt more than anything else. At times, I felt alone, sometimes forgotten, and the future I once dreamed of seemed to disappear. Yet in the middle of this pain, my father, mother, siblings, friends, and mates stood by me. Their love, prayers, and support gave me strength to endure, even when life felt unbearable.

Another unpleasant experience was [is] dealing with pressure sores. They hurt every time I moved. Rest became very difficult, and I worried about infection and slow healing. Taking care of the sores was tiring and humbling. I had to depend on others for things I used to do myself. The sores weren’t just painful, they brought fear, shame, and long nights of discomfort. But even in the middle of all this, I kept looking for small signs of hope. I didn’t want these struggles to be the whole story. I chose to believe that pain could teach me something, and that strength could grow even in broken places.

“When the sun sets, it does not mean the end of light; it only means the moon must rise.” — Proverb

Note: I will share more about the pressure sores, what they felt like and the care they needed, on my Gallery page. If you want to understand that part of my journey in more detail, please visit the Gallery where I explain and show more.

How I found Strength and purpose in The Silence.

In my darkest hours, I lay in silence. At first, the silence felt extremely heavy, but soon I found it was not empty. In the quiet, I heard a deep voice in my heart. The silence gave me strength and showed me a reason to live.

Nature spoke to me. The sky stood wide, too vast for any man to measure. The wind touched my face like a friend and told me that life still moves. The tall trees stood firm and told me that storms come and go, but strong roots remain. I did not choose this life, but I came to love myself too much to keep hating the condition I could not change.

That moment became a crossroad for me. I saw two paths before me: one was filled with anger, regret, and self-pity; the other was filled with acceptance, courage, and purpose. I chose the second path. I said to myself, “If I must live, then I will live with meaning. My pain will not define me, my purpose will.”

From that moment, my heart opened wider to the truth I could no longer ignore: a greater power exists. The stars shine without falling. The seasons change by themselves. The wind moves without human control. All these prove the hand of God, the One who rules over all.

This truth lit my night. Where I once felt lost, hope rose again.
It was like a seed pushing through hard soil to reach a sun it had never seen—yet somehow knew was there.

Slowly, that hope began to replace the lonely, silent, scary, and uncertain thoughts with beautiful imaginations of the future.
I started to see not just what was broken, but what could bloom.

To stay integrated with this new light, I took note of my courageous moments, those quiet victories, and made sure they shaped my true existence.
Each brave step became a reminder: I am still becoming, and I am still worthy of joy.

“Out of difficulties grow miracles.” — Jean de La Bruyère.

My Mission and Advocacy

In 2024, with the support of Hajia Amina Audu—CEO of Rebuilding Hope on Wheels Initiative (RHOWI) and Chairperson of the Board of Trustees, Spinal Cord Injury Association of Nigeria (SCIAN) , I was honored to join the Nohor Initiatives (2024) in Bangladesh.

That experience gave me a stronger desire for change. It deepened my commitment to speak up for better healthcare, inclusive education, fair employment, and dignity for people with disabilities.

Bem Akaanane Nohor Digital Fellowship (2024).

Since I can’t connect, the way I used to, I’ve found a new space, a community through the internet. Social media has become my voice. It gives me a way to reach out, to be heard, and to speak for others who feel unseen.

I share my story not to be pitied, but to help people understand. I talk about spinal cord injury, disability, rejection, healing, and the quiet beauty of inclusion. I speak for those who live with pain, who face barriers, and who are still waiting to be accepted.

And slowly, people are listening. Some open up about their own struggles. Others say my words give them hope. That’s why I keep speaking, because even when life takes a different turn, it can still lead to something meaningful.

My journey continues with one clear goal: to keep raising my voice until no one with a disability is left behind.

Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are.

— Benjamin Franklin

My Spirit Is Not Disabled

I still dream, love, and believe. Everyone deserves to be seen, heard, and included—no matter their situation. My greatest joy is seeing people with disabilities rise above shame and silence to live freely.

“Inclusion is not a matter of political correctness; it is the key to growth.” — Jesse Jackson

To spinal cord injury survivors:

Your story isn’t over. You matter. You have value and something powerful to give.

To everyone else:

Why You Should Keep Fighting

There are nights that feel endless—nights when your pillow is soaked with tears and you wonder if morning will ever come; nights when the weight in your chest feels too heavy and the silence screams louder than words.

If that’s where you are right now, hear this: I know the feeling, because I have been there too. And I need you to understand—you are not forgotten, and this is not the end.

“Whatever you’re facing, if your heart is breaking, there’s a promise for the ones who just hold on.”
— Britt Nicole

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”
— Psalm 30:5

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
— Rumi

When life shatters your plans, it can feel like it has shattered you too. But even broken pieces can be remade into something beautiful. Your scars can shine like a roadmap, guiding others to hope and showing them that survival is possible.

Why You Must Not Give Up

The pain you feel will not last forever. Nights may be long, but dawn always comes.
Your story matters. Someone, somewhere, needs the strength they will find in your survival.
You are stronger than your breaking point. The fact that you’re still breathing is proof the storm has not defeated you.
There is hope beyond what you can see. Even when clouds hide the sun, it is still rising.

“Sometimes you don’t realize your own strength until you come face to face with your greatest weakness.”
— Susan Gale

A Final Word for You Who Are Hurting

If your heart is bleeding, if your hands are trembling, if you feel too weak to take another step—hold on. Do not let despair have the last word.

The night may be fierce, but it is not forever. The sun is already rising. And when it does, you will see that you are still here, still standing, still breathing.

That will be the proof—you are stronger than the storm that tried to break you.

Let's talk more

If my story has touched you, I would love to hear from you. Whether you wish to share your thoughts, connect, or explore ways we can work together for inclusion, please reach out through the form.

Together, we can make the world more inclusive, one step at a time.