Read This If You Have A Family Member With a Disability

Being a sister to a boy with Autism has been one of the most beautiful and terrifying things I've ever experienced. Before you freak out, let me tell you what I truly mean. I got introduced to Autism, not by a standard and heartfelt conversation with my parents, but by observing with my eyes. When I was 9 years old, I noticed Tobi was truly different. Tobi wouldn't stay in class for lessons; he wouldn't sit down during Sunday school; he used to walk on his toes; and one of the most terrifying things ever was that Tobi used to hit his head on the wall during his meltdowns. I never really understood the 'weird' behaviour because I was young and confused. When I was in secondary school, I told my friends that my brother couldn't talk because something was stuck in his throat. I even went so far as to tell them that he needed surgery to get the "thing" out. But little did I know that it was Autism, and Tobi could talk.Fast forward to when I figured out it was ASD, there were feelings of inadequacy, fear, sadness, relief, embarrassment, and mostly anger. Anger because Tobi didn't deserve to be Autistic. He was such a beautiful boy who deserved the world, and it felt as though the world wasn't giving him what he deserved. I had friends who had junior brothers who were in the same age bracket as Tobi, and they were doing big things as teenagers, some even had girlfriends, but here was Tobi, spinning things with his finger, unable to keep a conversation longer than five minutes. So, yes. I was sad, upset with myself, Tobi, my parents, and God. I felt embarrassed anytime my friends came over to the house, and Tobi would have a meltdown, which I basically thought was a "tantrum" back then. But Tobi was different, and it wasn't a bad thing. I'm going to narrate a story that felt funny when I was small, but now I cringe at it. My parents travelled to Dubai for a holiday, and we were stuck at home with our aunties. Tobi had a habit of jumping on the bed, and unfortunately, this time, his head hit the fan. Imagine the fear when I saw Tobi's face drenched in blood. I laughed like a little silly girl. My aunt had to alert the neighbours to take Tobi to the hospital. I look back at that moment, and I nearly cry because Tobi would have lost his life, and I wouldn't have my best friend with me.Undoubtedly, Tobi is one of the best things that has happened to me. Now, I'm moving to the beautiful part of this experience. If Tobi hadn't been born, this version of Toyin wouldn't have been born, and Your Safe Space, a support group created for other neurotypical siblings, wouldn't be here either.I wouldn't have learned patience. Sometimes I tell people I'm very patient, but they don't realise how useful that skill is. Imagine dealing with your brother crying over the back of the remote controller because he has a way it looks, and it must be that way. I usually tell people that there is nothing that anyone can do to upset me; I've seen worse at home. And let's talk about empathy. Being a sister to someone with Autism has made me very sensitive to other people's feelings, especially those who are neurotypical. I think deeply about people before I make a decision, and sometimes I make sacrifices to my own detriment. Now, let me go spiritual. Do I believe that God can take away Autism from my brother's life? Yes. Am I going to hate God because he has let this go on for 24 years? No way. This experience has also strengthened my relationship with God. Tobi has many milestones, from stopping walking on his toes to saying words like 'I love you,' and while many, many people credit success to therapy, I give God the praise. I often tell God,' You gave me this boy as a brother, you never make mistakes, and therefore this boy is for you, so let your will be done.' That's it. Now, this doesn't mean that life isn't hard with Tobi. I cry and fight for stable mental health. It is mentally and physically exhausting, but I love my brother too much, and I'm so intent on making sure that prophecy can be fulfilled in both our lives. My struggles were what led me to start Your Safe Space, a place for siblings to catch a break and rant. I'm a firm believer in expressing my feelings, and I found how healing that is, so I thought about how I could change other people's lives. And I'm so intent on making sure that every sibling, mother, or father is good as they navigate special needs, and, most importantly, that they have a personal, beautiful relationship with those who have special needs. It is not their fault.Tobi still has Autism and is still doing wonderful things; it is not a hindrance. Tobi sings beautifully, and one of his superpowers is learning songs after hearing them once. We love to sing songs by Nathaniel Bassey and Dunsin Oyekan together. Not to mention our many, many selfies together! He may have to pick a photography course because of me. He is so precious, so precious, and I wouldn't trade him for anything or anyone. So, that's my story. It gets tough, extremely tough, but I wouldn't question God or my role in Tobi's life. I tell myself this, and I hope you're inspired by it also." Please, trust in God. Everything will be okay."

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