Crawling to safety with a broken back
Bonnie Singh would like to forget about the earthquake that broke her back and left her with a serious head injury, but each day these injuries serve as a painful reminder.
It is eight years since the magnitude-6.3 earthquake struck Christchurch at 12.51pm on February 22, 2011.
Over these years, Singh has struggled with survivor’s guilt, battled ACC and has fought to rebuild her life.
She still remembers moments from that terrifying time.
An apprentice tattooist at Southern Ink, she’d been washing the floor beside fellow apprentice, Matti McEachen.
When the earthquake struck, the pair bolted for the front door. ‘‘But, in that split second, I ran back to get my phone . . . it was my mum’s birthday . . . Matti got out the front and then the rubble fell . . . I just remember getting knocked on the head and collapsing.’’
When she regained consciousness, she was briefly unsure if she was alive or dead.
She knew she had to get out. With a ‘‘broken neck and back’’, she crawled to the front entrance of the Colombo St shop, where she saw a small gap.
‘‘I could see light through the dust.’’ She pulled bricks and rubbish away and eventually climbed over the rubble.
‘‘I started screaming for someone to come and help Matti. People came running and started digging . . . I got pulled away.’’
A stranger comforted Singh. She remembers her voice but not her face.
McEachen, 25, and American tourist Rachel Conley, 27, who had just left the studio after booking a tattoo with McEachen, were killed by the falling masonry.
Another stranger helped Singh into a car and drove her to Christchurch Hospital.
She sat outside in a wheelchair and, when she tried to get up, she could not move her legs.
‘‘When the concrete slab hit me on the head, it compressed . . . breaking six vertebrae in my back and two in my neck. Luckily, the vertebrae were stable enough that they didn’t need to operate but it was painful.’’
In the bed next to her was Ann Brower. ‘‘There were people screaming . . . I remember Ann as being really brave and still smiling.’’
‘‘But, in that split second, I ran back to get my phone . . . it was my mum’s birthday . . . Matti got out the front and then the rubble fell . . . I just remember getting knocked on the head and collapsing.’’
Quake survivor Bonnie Singh
Two years later, Singh – with two other women from Southern Ink – opened an allfemale tattoo parlour, Maid Of Ink, in Lyttelton.
‘‘We opened the shop before I could even tattoo . . . I just thought, ‘let’s just do it’.
‘‘I got the girls to teach me slowly – Jak, Matt Parkin’s former partner, and Emma, is from Southern Ink too.’’
It is not, she says, a ‘‘typical shop’’.
‘‘It is more like a studio or a co-op.’’ Maid of Ink operates around the needs of their families and health issues.
Singh works part-time. Eight years on, brain fatigue is still a problem. ‘‘I have learned to live with my head injury . . . it’s a lot better but sometimes I can’t even talk at the end of the day. I stutter, I have to think harder to get the words out.’’
Her passion is transforming scars into ‘‘something beautiful’’.
‘‘I get a real thrill out of giving people their confidence back and by creating something pretty."
‘‘When I started at Southern Ink, three months before the earthquake, I remember feeling ecstatic. I did say to Matti ‘I got my dream job, the building will probably fall down in an earthquake’ . . . I held on to those words for years.’’
For Singh, tattooing is ‘‘therapy’’. ‘‘People come, sit in the chair and they open up about their traumatic experiences. It really gives me a passion and a drive for my work, what I create for them helps. They’re not alone.’’
As she heals, she’s grateful for the support of the Lyttelton community.
‘‘I have my peace. I actually feel like I deserve this peace now, everything calm.’’