‘Lessons I Learnt From Blindness’ – Cobhams Asuquo
Cobhams Asuquo gave the talk below
recently at TEDxEUSTON where he was one of the speakers.
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.’
Of course
my response to such a rebuke was to scurry off and catch up with my
friends and hide whatever stray bruises I had sustained away from my
mother’s disapproving eyes.
Initially,
scoffed at other people’s well meaning concern and pity, because I do
not understand what the force was all about. As I grew older and I
gained more understanding of the intricacies of living as a sightless
person in a world designed for sighted people, I was faced with the
looming possibility of failure in my life. But what I actually
considered to be much worse was people were ready to excuse my failure
because of my disability. Which brings me to my first lesson.
Do not Excuse Failure, for any reason on
any account
Now, I don’t mean
we should be unmerciful and impatient towards those who are either
less-able or weak or disadvantaged because I believe that we should
share one another’s burden, because we’ll all face low points in our
lives. What I’m saying is this. That failure will come. But the same
way that it comes that we should see to it that goes. Instead,
what I’ve observed is that whenever there’s a larger than life seemingly
insurmountable flaw, in a system, in our cities, in our leaders, even
in our own character, we tend to excuse the failure. We overlook it. We
pardon it. We indulge it. And become even comfortable with it.
Sometimes, we even find different terms for the failure. In my country,
we sometimes call it the Nigerian Factor. So, if something isn’t working
the way it should, we shake our heads, and we automatically blame it on
the Nigeria Factor. And then we move on with our lives.
But see by excusing failure, and blaming it
on some systematic flaw, we miss the opportunity to scale through those
seemingly insurmountable obstacles. To elevate ourselves and elevate
others.
When I turned 10, I was
enrolled in a Primary Boarding School for the Blind, fast forward to
graduation day, teachers and other well wishers were giving us advise on
going into the outside world. We were forwarned that we would come
across people who be genuinely mean to us. People will snatch away our
guide canes, pull out our typewriter ribbons, not give us the correct
change, and generally just take advantage of us because we are blind.
And from my experience, and I’m sure
most of you must have discovered, not all public opinion is correct
opinion.
So, I personally decided
that I didn’t want to want to worry myself about Guide Cane Snatchers,
Ribbon Type writer thieves, and the likes. I decided not to take that
advice. I don’t know if it was conscious, but decided to just trust. I
figured that there was so many unfortunate things in life that has
happened to you regardless of whether or not you were blind. So, why
should I heap on an extra burden of worry on myself just because I’m
blind.
This is my second lesson,
and it’s a tough one, to Trust.
I
have learnt this from blindness to trust. Sometimes, even when I have
no reason to. And as you can imagine I have learnt this lesson over and
over again. now, as a child I was quite a Kid to have fun with and play
little pranks on. My older brother taught me how to jump over open
street gutters so anytime I was walking with friends and they inform me
that we were approaching a gutter, I would jump – No questions asked.
Pretty soon, I discovered that my friends were telling me to jump even
when there were no gutters. Just so they could have a laugh. But even
after I found out, I still continued to jump. I chose to trust them
because quite honestly, staying out of the smelly sewage gutters was
very very important to me.
Now some
people might ask. Can’t a person be too trusting? But I think trust has
no expiration date. Blindness has taught me to keep trusting. To keep
hoping. To keep believing. And by the way in case you haven’t heard,
technology came along, thankfully. And not only did it take the rhythms
from the typewriter, it also took away the typewriters themselves and
replaced them with computers and screen readers.
And as for my guide cane story, I’ve yet to
meet one friend of mine whose had their white canes snatched from them.
As a matter of fact, at some point I
got too desperate and I went ahead in my first year in the University
to buy myself a Mercedes Benz Wagon. It broke down on the first day I
bought it. And I remember my friend, we were trying to change the tire,
and anyone who called me I will say, you know what, I’m having a little
car trouble. And thankfully, we can afford better cars and I have a
faithful driver, and he’s under the watchful eyes of my wife. So no
guide cane ‘stealers’ and all of that.
Be blind to be focused
So speaking of my wife. My wife sometimes go shopping
together. Now note, I stressed the word, sometimes. Because while most
men would share my sentiments towards shopping. I really feel the same
way for a different set of reasons. Because shopping, as a female sport,
and I do believe it is, it is about feasting your eyes on goods and
things of assort. So you can generally imagine how quickly I will lose
interest.
Now some time ago, my wife
and I, we walked into a duty free shop at an Airport. We wanted to buy a
bottle of water. Before I knew it, she had stopped by to browse through
a magazine, had picked up a book… seemingly normal actions for her but I
found it quite alarming.
Now, here
we were. We went in to buy an item but ended up browsing for other
stuffs. And that was when it hit me. Sight, sometimes, is a distraction.
Now, I have to say that when my wife goes shopping, no matter how good
her intentions are to purchase only the items on her list, she somehow
manages to come home with extras.
Good
Deals! She will like to call them. She knows a lot about good deals,
and sales and half sales. And I have to say my wife is a fantastic
wonderful woman.
Now don’t get me
wrong, sight is a precious gift. But on your way to your destination,
what you see, can also be a big distraction from your goal. So, I have
learnt that you have to be blind in order to be focused. Focus is
blindness in a sense. I'm sure you can relate to this because you have
been focused on your goal and attained your successes by being blind to
several things in your life.
Now, we
live in a culture that esteems sight over blindness. And associates
blindness with weakness. Yet, blindness in all of its weakness, I have
drawn some key strength in my life’s journey.
When I love the veil of childhood innocence, the brutal
reality of blindness stared me in the face. Self pity, and failure
loomed over my shoulder. Some, I’m sure would have excused me if I
became a failure. But I found it more fulfilling to break away from the
expectations of mediocrity. To successfully navigate and negotiate my
way through life. Even if it ruffled the feather of those who genuinely
cared about me.
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