We’ve done it for years, decades even, haven’t we? From the time we were old enough to walk. No matter what we were wearing, we pulled up our underwear.
Sometimes we've done it in the dark, half-asleep, while rushing to work; other times, we've done it lying on our backs or in the air with that weird vertical high-jump we do when we put on underwear that's too tight.
But in 2002, I couldn't pull my underwear up anymore. It showed me how much people who are healthy take it for granted.
So I had to take care of things myself. Literally.
Back then, my husband and I had moved from the UK to Dubai so I could work in IT and live there. For my job, I used to go to and from London a lot.
Work was life, and life was work, until one day it wasn't anymore.
My blood pressure was way too high when I was pregnant with my second child. At 17 weeks, I was told that the neck of my womb was tight, and was advised to seek medical help back in the UK.
There, I was told I had preeclampsia, which is a high blood pressure disorder that is common in pregnant women and kept an eye on.
Funmi Lawal on a street corner
It took a year for me to get better (Picture: Funmi Lawal)
I also had preeclampsia with my first child. My first child was born early, and there was worry that this one would be harder and that, since I was older, I would need special care from a UK hospital.
In November, I had my daughter. Seven days later, on the day before her naming ceremony (in Muslim culture, a baby is called "baby" for the first seven days before the father-in-law gives the child a name), I woke up with a terrible headache. I thought my head was going to fall off, and paracetamol didn't help.
I woke up my husband to ask for help, and then I lost consciousness for 24 hours. I had a stroke, and then my brain bled badly.
During a CT scan, my heart stopped, and my family was told I didn't have a good chance of living. If I did survive, I'd be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.
I was taken to the Atkinson Morley Hospital near Wimbledon, which is one of the most advanced brain surgery centers in the world. There, I had emergency surgery to open my skull and remove the blood clot from my brain, which saved my life.
When I woke up again, I could no longer talk, walk, or move my right arm and hand. It was scary, and I felt like I'd lost everything, including my life.
How was I going to handle being a new mom?
It took me a year to get better, and I needed a lot of help with being a parent. Even now, over 20 years later, I'm still partially disabled.
Funmi Lawal was happy and wearing a blue t-shirt.
Having any kind of physical disability, it's very important to be able to keep your independence (Picture: Funmi Lawal)
As part of a long process of getting better, I started using crutches to get around the hospital. When I needed to go farther, I was given a wheelchair.
After being on my own for 35 years, I had to use a wheelchair for six months. My job abroad was over, I couldn't talk in a logical way, I couldn't walk far, and it hurt to bend down. I was stubborn and still wanted to do everything on my own, so I often turned down help when I needed it the most.
Every day, putting on underwear felt like a battle. I'd done it without thinking for years, but now it was exhausting and embarrassing, and I saw a chance to help people who couldn't move around easily.
I was upset and angry when my online search for help didn't lead me to any accessible underwear. Why were there no options that worked for people with disabilities like me? Why didn't anyone want to spend money to make my life a little bit easier?
I wanted to switch the subject. Prove to myself that my brain was still working, even if my body was slow to catch up.
But first, I had to deal with my health. In 2007, I had kidney failure that was so bad that it was almost over. I was on dialysis for about 19 months. It wasn't until 2011 that I got a kidney transplant that worked.
The transplant didn't change how much I could move around, but I had to do dialysis, which made me very tired on dialysis days. I can't write even now, so I scribble. It made me feel weak and worn out.
I used what I had learned in the past to help me get better, and I kept living as full a life as I could. Finally, I brought Clip Knix to market to help people who, like me, have limited mobility.
After losing both of my parents within a year of each other in 2018, I started my business on a whim. I had no money and could only get a loan.
How Clip Knix work
How Clip Knix work
Clip Knix is the first product of its kind to help people with mobility problems keep their dignity (Picture: Clip Knix)
Clip Knix took a year to make, and it took me another year to make prototypes that I liked. Now, we do business in the US and Australia, and we're on six Amazon marketplaces, including one in the Middle East.
With Clip Knix, you don't have to bend or stretch to put on your underwear. Instead, you can stand, sit, or lie down (whatever is most comfortable), put the gusset through your legs, and hook or button the knickers on the side.
Clip Knix was the first product of its kind. It helps people with mobility problems keep their dignity and, more importantly, gives them a boost of confidence that makes life happier. They're made of organic cotton and lace, and they're also sexy. They feel like a luxury that people with limited mobility deserve.
They are great for people with limited mobility, the elderly, people with catheters or Colostomy bags, pregnant women, people with back problems, and more.
When you have a physical disability of any kind, it is very important to be able to keep your independence. It's good for a person's mental health as well as their physical health.
Over 14 million disabled people live in the UK, and one billion people around the world are thought to have some kind of disability. So why should 15% of people go without the things they need?
We need a world that gives people with disabilities more options and is willing to put money into their health. It shouldn't have been hard for me to make a simple, life-changing product for people who value and enjoy their independence, even when I was at my worst.
Still, I'm glad to be a part of it and wouldn't change it for anything.