Cobhams: I might be Blind but i'm a dreamer

I’m a dreamer, and I don’t mean that in the literal sense or in the literal context of going to sleep and dreaming even though that’s very nice because that’s when I get to drive and play golf.

But a picture of an average guy who lies down and faces the ceiling and just dreams away. Fortunately for me, a lot of things I have dreamt about in my life have come true. I believe strongly that one of the strong elements that fuel my very strong sense of imagination and my ability to dream is the gift of blindness. And I’m going to share with you, a couple of things that I have leant and a couple of life lessons that could be invaluable to you as well that I have learnt from Blindness.

So to start with, I will state the obvious fact that I was born blind. No one else in my family of six children is blind. There’s no known cause. No links. No explanation. Just the reality that I cannot see with my eyes.

I was born and raise in the military barracks. I don’t mean the great side of the military barracks but the other side of the military barracks. I lived in a small block of 18 two bedroom flats. I shared a flat my two parents, my three siblings and whatever stray pet came out way at a time. As well as my father’s Honda Roadmaster 180 Motorcycle, which slept in the living room with me and my siblings for fear that one of its mirrors might be stolen by morning.

In my neighborhood there were always something  to look forward to. My mornings were characterized by news of whose pumping machine had been stolen by morning or squabbles between neighbours over who had eaten their chicken. Actually some people try to resolve the chicken situation by tying to attach a piece of red things on their chicken legs. I don’t know how well it works…

Now, blindness does not have any physical, psychological or social meaning.  Since I’ve never experienced sight, I wasn’t aware that I was without sight. And so, I indulged in the innocence of young boyhood. I ran downstairs, jumped over gutters, played hard. Fought even harder. And got into any imaginable trouble that a Skinny young child could get into.

On a number of Occasions, I ran into walls. Ran into people. Ran into furniture’s so hard that that observers will shake their head and say in Pidgin English:

‘Person wey we dey feel sorry for, e no dey feel sorry for himself.’ - InformationNG