Dubai: Kim's courage speaks louder than words ever could.
Sitting shy on her mum's couch, 15-year-old Kim Oberholzer finally opens up about the tragic night that changed the course of her life forever.
In June 2010, Kim, and three other girls — Leena, Daniella and Fatima — were victims of a mysterious blast that damaged more than just a villa in Mirdif. While the walls of that villa have long been repainted, the scars on Kim's face seem here to stay.
"I used to be so impatient," recalls Kim, a South African who has been living in Dubai for four years. "I remember thinking I just wanted everything to go away, for the burns to miraculously disappear, and for my life to return to normal overnight. I'm more realistic today. I can wait for as long as I have to because regardless of what the doctors say, deep down in my heart I know that these scars aren't permanent. I believe in the power of my own body being able to heal itself without having to resort to any plastic surgery. And in the meantime, I'll cover myself up. I'll wear make-up and long jeans, instead of being a fancy-free teenager in short skirts."
Since her return home from the hospital in September 2010, Kim has come a long way. Although still covered in over 55 per cent burns across her body, Kim's spirit refuses to take a beating. Naturally, just like any other teenager, there are good days and there are bad days. On days when it all gets too much to handle, Kim turns to her mum for the comfort only she can give. "I still have some really close friends, but on the days when I just want to offload all my emotions, it's mum and dad that I turn to. In the last year, my parents have been my rock. They've been there when I need someone to talk to, when I needed a shoulder to cry on, when I wanted to lean against someone, or needed someone to hold me. I know I can go to them, and I'll feel better. If I want to complain, I can go to them. They tell me it's okay, that they'll fix everything."
Following stints in ICU, hospitalisation and skin grafts, all four girls are well and are today living their own lives. While none of the girls have any contact with Fatima Housee, in whose home the blast occurred, the other three remain friends, with Kim calling Leena one of her best friends. "Leena and I are still incredibly close, perhaps more so than before," says Kim. "Sometimes I depend on her for comfort. She tells me not to worry, that worse things could have happened. I've asked her so often why I had to burn so badly, and not them. She told me it's just destiny," says Kim.
And right there comes the first glance of the sadness that underlies a beautiful smile. A peak into Kim's bedroom reveals angst-ridden graffiti all over the walls, peppered with photos of Kim and Danielle in happier scar-free days; photos of Leena dancing in her school uniform; soft toys that lie forgotten on the far corner of her bed and large ‘I love You' heart pillows that pose a stark contrast to the pain and anger writ large on the walls.
For Kim, that's her outlet. That's where she unloads the pain. Just like any other teenager, Kim has questions. But unlike other teenagers, Kim's questions run a lot deeper.
Anger can be a very normal reaction, says Kim's mum Anneline Oberholzer. "There are times that I get emotional and angry too. Like I said to my husband Dino the other day, I don't think there's a day that goes by that the unfairness of this doesn't go through my mind. Kim spent five weeks in ICU, of which for four weeks she was in a coma. In total, she spent three months in hospital. For the first few weeks in ICU, the doctors told us that the burns on her face were superficial and would heal soon. But in time, it became apparent that those burns were anything but superficial. As a family, something like this can do one of two things to you: It can push you apart or pull you together. For us, it brought us all closer than ever before."
Despite the bravery of her words, there's an echo of sadness that lingers in the air. Keeping up a strong front for the world to see isn't always easy. "The only way I could deal with things was to cry them out. You'd think the tears would dry up eventually, but no… Even today, when it really gets to me, I'll still cry. And then it's Dino I lean on. I was only strong because of him. He knew that I couldn't handle my daughters getting hurt. Even as children, I wouldn't allow them little things like climbing a tree because I was afraid they would be hurt. So with something like this…" she trails off, no words necessary, the mind going back to the night the nightmare began. In June 2010.
One year ago, Kim had no memory of the events of the night that took away a large part of her life. Today, those memories are trickling back. "We don't really talk much about that night," says Kim. "It's the past, and we don't really care about the whys and hows any longer. But sometimes people will ask us about what happened that night. Sometimes old friends I bump into ask me whether I remember anything at all. I tell them what I remember.
"I remember that before going to Fatima's house, we hung out at the main park in Mirdif. Then we went to her house to get ready to go to Uptown Mirdif to meet more friends. The next thing I remember is coming out of the ambulance and seeing my dad. I don't yet remember seeing my mum. I also remember seeing one of my other friends."
And maybe that's all she'll ever need. "Talking to a shrink did her no good at all," says Anneline. "She saw one in December 2010 for two sessions and she refused to go back. They made her feel she was five, not 15! They would talk to her like she's a child, and especially now, after all she's gone through, she doesn't want to be treated that way. As parents, we didn't want to push her.
This was always going to be her decision, and she made the one that's best for her.
"We still don't know what happened. She doesn't remember anything. It was only a few months ago that she even remembered seeing the ambulance and her dad. She still doesn't even remember seeing me," says Anneline, admiration for her daughter writ all over her face.
Despite the scars that remain along the sides of Kim's face, her hands, legs, chest and back, the family remains hopeful for the future. "I'm ready to face my future," says Kim. "I know these scars will go away eventually. People tell me that they won't, but I know that if I keep believing in it, it can happen. A year ago, I couldn't even straighten out my arms. Now they are almost straight. The hospital had said that it could never happen and they would have to operate to make it straight. But my dad said no, no more operations, and now look, it's healed by itself. They said they would have to take skin from other parts of my body such as from my back and use that skin to transfer onto my face.
"But I don't want to do any operations. I want to heal naturally. My face is already better as are my arms. Surely, the rest will occur in due time," she says.
Despite her desire never to be operated on again, Kim says that the only area she would agree to have plastic surgery on, are her ears, which were cut away by the doctors due to infections. "I have agreed to start a series of injections which will help flatten out the skin and reduce the redness and swelling. My mum is getting pressure gloves for my hands and legs, that, over the years, will do what the steroid injections will do for my face," says Kim, clearly a much stronger woman than the child she was two years ago.
A long hard look at Kim today reveals more beauty than imperfection. There's a charm in her eyes that's undeniable; a coyishness that takes your breath away; a fragility that houses her strength; her long brown hair a testament that even a thing once badly burnt can be restored to its natural shine and beauty.
