I Wanted to Quit School Because They Said My Head Was Too Big

I was a tiny girl with a noticeably big head. That combination became their favourite joke. They called me names like ‘etiri’ and ‘ti kelenkele’, laughing as if it were all in good fun. But it wasn’t fun for me. It chipped away at my self-esteem, especially during adolescence when my peers were blossoming and attracting attention. I believed my head scared men away. I believed I wasn’t beautiful.

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My grades sank. The girl who once topped her class was now buried somewhere in the bottom fifty. My dad noticed. He sat me down and asked what was wrong. I told him everything was fine. I even said I wanted to drop out after BECE and learn a trade. But he pressed gently until the dam broke. In tears, I told him everything. I told him how my teachers and classmates mocked me, how even the adults who were supposed to protect me joined the crowd and made fun of me. They stopped using my real name. They called me what the bullies called me.

When school reopened, I returned with a different spirit. My confidence had been patched together with my father’s words and my own quiet resolve. The moment I walked into class, a girl shouted, “Eeeei etiri aba. Welcome!” I looked at her and calmly replied, “Nti na medi first aaah daabi wo di last no.” That’s why I’m always first in class and you’re always last. The class burst into laughter. I sat down quietly.

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Later, a teacher entered and asked a question. He called me “etiri.” I didn’t respond. He repeated it, louder this time, then tapped his cane on my desk. “Can’t you hear I’m calling you?” he barked.

I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Sir, I came to this school with a name. That name is Abena. That is the only name I respond to. If you can’t call me by it, then please don’t call me at all.”

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You should have seen their faces. The silence was so thick you could slice through it. By break time, the entire school had heard what happened. That was the end of the bullying. No one dared call me “big head” again.

Even now, I tear up when I remember it. But I thank God for my dad. His words helped me reclaim my confidence, embrace my big head as a symbol of wisdom, and rise above the pain. I graduated with flying colours. Today, I hold a job I’m proud of. And yes, I still carry my big head into every room I walk into.

—Abena

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