In the late ’60s, one impulsive decision changed my life. We were teenagers with the world at our feet. One of my best friends arrived at our home in his dad’s brand new car. I knew he didn’t have a driver’s licence but the offer to go joy-riding in a sparkling new machine was just too tempting to refuse.
My brother and I jumped in — he in the back and me in the front. Nausori Airport was our destination. Just before the Nasinu Teachers College (now FNU Nasinu campus) our car swerved across the road and I saw my life flash by me.
The sound of the crash roared in my ears as the twisted metal and glass of the car slammed into the hillside. I felt the windscreen smash into my head and face. As my face hit the dashboard with a sickening thud a light inside of me seemed to go out. I didn’t know whether I was alive or dead.
When I came to, I was still sitting in the car wondering what had happened. My best friend and brother were nowhere in sight. I tried to open my door but it was jammed. I tried the driver’s door but it wouldn’t open either. I somehow managed to climb into the back seat and tried both rear doors. They were also jammed. I decided to wind down the window. I did this and as I crawled out of the window I saw crimson red splash against the side of the white car. It was at that moment I fell on to the road only to sit there in a daze not knowing where I was.
There seemed to be wetness all over my face and I thought it was the rain. I could barely see out of my eyes as something wet and sticky seemed to be getting in the way. With the corner of my one good eye I saw the look on my brother and best friend’s face and fear gripped me. I learned later that, even though they were in shock and suffering severe concussion, they were horrified when they looked over at me.
I can’t remember too much afterwards except that one SCC van had stopped to help. They loaded us onto the back of the truck and raced us off to the CWM Hospital. While my brother and best friend had minor injuries and were sent home I was admitted with serious injuries. The next few days were the bleakest of my life.
Two days after the accident my close friends visited me in hospital. I couldn’t speak because my mouth and face were heavily stitched. When they came to see me, I noticed that they walked back out of the room. I was puzzled yet I wasn’t to know at the time that they had left the room because they thought that the guy they saw lying on the bed was someone else.
When they came back again they were crying and it didn’t help me because I could see the sadness on their faces. It choked me inside as I wondered whether I would ever have a normal life again.
My recovery was slow and painstaking. Every time I looked into the mirror something inside of me died. It got so bad that I wouldn’t go anywhere and stayed indoors for most of the time because I was so embarrassed about the way my face looked. Frankenstein looked handsome compared to me. If we went to a party, I stayed in the darkest place and never ventured into the light. Not only was my face shattered but so was my self-esteem and confidence.
In those days there wasn’t any counseling for trauma. I had to fend for myself. When I returned to school I couldn’t cope with studies yet I didn’t know why.
It got to the point where school seemed to be a useless exercise as I couldn’t remember simple things. When I studied for an exam I couldn’t retrieve the information to answer questions. It was not only frustrating but it caused me so much angst and grief. I had nobody to talk to and share what I was going through. I beat up on myself regularly never understanding why I did this. It was as if I had become a no-hoper because, I think, I literally had lost hope. I internalised all of my grief, anger and bitterness and I became a prisoner of my pain.
I remember during my University Entrance examinations I walked out midway of two exam papers. I wanted to follow my dad and become a lawyer but it seemed that all of my hopes and dreams were stolen on that fateful day.
In time, I turned to alcohol and drugs to try to soothe my pain. It became an escape and I seemed to be spiraling downwards into the abyss. All the while though I pretended that nothing was wrong partly because I couldn’t understand or explain my problem to anyone and partly because I was so ashamed of my grades at school and also because I thought that I needed to be “tough” and not show my true feelings let alone speak about them.
When the University Entrance results came out, my brother passed becoming the dux of his school. All of my friends passed with flying colours except for me. I pretended that I didn’t care and that my result was nothing to worry about. Sometimes when I would be alone at night I would cry myself to sleep hoping that I wouldn’t wake up. I contemplated ending my life but somehow I never took that step. My physical disfigurement became a talking point and people would visit me at home just to see my face.
After some time I got used to it and it didn’t feel so bad. As I began to pick up the pieces of my life, I realised that university was out of the question. The reality shock crushed my spirit because I wanted to become a lawyer but it seemed that fate had dealt a deathly blow to my dreams.
My dad, sensing my pain, came to my rescue by speaking with one of his friends after which I got an interview at the Fiji Broadcasting Commission for a job as a copy trainee.
I had no idea what a copy trainee was and what the job entailed until I went for the interview. By some miracle, I was successful and so began a career in radio advertising.
I threw myself into the role and learned a great deal from some amazing and talented people along the way like the late Abe McGoon and Billy Allen. Many others also invested in me including the late Lasarusa Vusoniwailala. My love for music was probably one of the few things going for me and I loved the English language.
Therefore I began writing and creating advertising jingles and experimenting with all sorts of new ideas. Some worked while others failed. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was heading up the Copy-writing Department of FBC.
With the late Gary A’Costa and Alan Apted, we launched an experimental FM radio station called FM1089. It was our foray into a new frontier of broadcasting. The response was overwhelming and it was the beginning of a new era in FM broadcasting.
As I look back, I realise that despite a somewhat successful broadcasting career, I carried so many regrets and disappointments at a very tender age that the baggage weighed me down like a sinking ship. I came from a broken home and a body physically battered but it was the emotional “hidden” scars that created the most pain for me.
When I met a beautiful young woman in my late teens, who was later to become my wife, I think that it was she who became my saving grace. Because of the trauma I had suffered as a child in a dysfunctional family and the grief of the accident afterwards, I never quite knew how to be a good husband and father. I didn’t have the best role models around me either and so I made many mistakes.
They nearly cost me my marriage and family. My wife stuck by me even though I let her down countless times. She believed in me more than I believed in myself and she stood by me through the many challenges we would endure together.
When we came to Australia in 1983 it was a new beginning for our family. That God would meet with me in my car going to a meeting in an outer suburb of Melbourne a few years later was in itself the most amazing encounter I have ever experienced. What happened on that amazing day will remain with me forever. It was the catalyst for a journey that has since been the most challenging yet filled with adventure and miracles that can only be described as mind-blowing.
Together as a family, we have experienced the highs and the lows of life. However, through every challenge I sense that there has been a guiding hand and light to bring us out of the dark places. As I reflect, I can see the tremendous blessings of God on our lives. He has always been there for our family though, at times because of my pain, I thought that He had deserted us.
I have come to understand that He is a good and gracious God and His loving-kindness is just amazing and no matter how things may feel and look He never leaves or forsakes us.
I cannot take credit for where we are today — many good men and women have been there for us — counselling me through my tumultuous years and helping to set me free from many obstacles that hindered my growth as a person, a husband, father and friend. If it wasn’t for their love and compassionate guidance I may have taken a very different road.
A man whom I admire greatly as a preacher encouraged me one day that God did not hold the mistakes of my past against me. It was one of the most liberating things anyone had ever said to me because I had carried so much guilt and condemnation from the mistakes of my past. He told me that God wanted me to pursue my life with purpose and passion and not look back to a past filled with regret and disappointment. The power of those words freed me in a way that I had never known.
As I look around me today with eyes unblurred by the pain of my past, I am aware that God has many wonderful opportunities waiting for me even at this late stage of my life. I am buoyed by this and look forward to many wonderful years serving His purpose. I feel that I’m on a journey filled with promise, passion and adventure.
My reason for sharing this story is to give hope and encouragement to anyone who may need it and if only one person gets something from this then sharing it has been worth it.
* Colin Deoki was born and raised in Fiji and migrated with his family to live in Australia in 1983. A keen musician/songwriter he wrote the lyrics for “Fiji My Beautiful Fiji” which was a song the late Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara commissioned to be written to mark Fiji’s 10th Anniversary of Independence in 1980. His late father, Andrew Deoki, was the Attorney General in Ratu Sir Kamisese’s Government in the late 70s/80s.
Mr Deoki is a frequent writer of The Fiji Times. The views are his and not of this newspaper.
