At the age of 13, Ovey Friday was accused of witchcraft by his stepmother and taken to a traditional shrine in the central Nigerian state of Nasarawa, where he was tortured.
By the time a neighbour alerted police and he was taken to hospital, the damage was irreversible.
The herbalist brought charcoal, put something on my hands, tied my hands [along] with my leg, put pepper there inside the charcoal, then covered me with a bedsheet, recalls Friday, now aged 19.
Doctors were forced to sedate him and operate on him. Friday woke up to find his left hand amputated, while the fingers on his right hand were either amputated or permanently scarred.
I cried and I cried, Friday tells the BBC.
In the years that followed, people stared at him on the streets or taunted him.
I wish they knew me, like, when I was born, he says.
Yet alongside his grief was a steely determination to keep going.
His academic ambitions were nearly interrupted two years ago when he tried to sit Nigeria's university entrance examination, run by the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (Jamb).
The system's biometric fingerprint process could not accommodate someone like him, as it could not capture his scarred thumbprint or the prints of the other two scarred fingers.
Thankfully, he got lucky as one of his guardians, along with disability rights campaigners, pushed officials to accept his toe print as verification of his ID.
Friday is now studying English and literary studies at a university in Nasarawa, a state which borders the capital, Abuja. He is the first in his family to enroll at university.
Not everyone has someone to push for them, he says. Some people will just stop trying, Friday says.
His story is not just about resilience but also a stark illustration of the barriers faced by people with disabilities in Nigeria, pressing the need for systemic change to accommodate all students and ensure equal opportunities in education.
