I am sited on a small wooden chair with my knees high above to my chest, my arms crossed just in between them staring above at a panel filled with horned glassed middle aged panelist staring right back about to seal my fate in this world. The first questions were easy and they had already skimmed through my application just a formality, so the words easily flowed through my mouth exchanging smiles and serious stares with the dexterity of the question. Then in came the self-analysis question and they put one out there, though easy but also a solid question “could you express yourself to the panelist?” I paused for a while and asked for a reiteration. I gaped back in amazement to create an illusion of understanding then ask if I could be handed a piece of paper and pen to put my thoughts together and wrote.
I am listening to Stevie wonder hit song on a Saturday afternoon with my girlfriend, whilst sipping a glass of wine by the couch and his lyrics cross my mind “No summer’s high, No warm July No harvest moon to light one tender August night, No autumn breeze, No falling leaves. Not even time for birds to fly to southern skies” and as I stare into my ladies eyes lip syncing the lyrics to her ears expressing my deep heart felt for her, I also enter into a trance of momentary thought thinking of the Motown hit Wonder composing this song. Fact is Stevie Wonder was born prematurely which along with the oxygen rich atmosphere in the hospital incubator resulted in a condition the eyes’ retinas detach causing him to be blind. So Stevie Wonder has been blind all his life but in return he set himself to understand music, also known as the musical genius of Motown, understand to play as many instrument and using this tools to express his vision of love, life and his existence.
I am sited outside my bedroom balcony staring at the ridge below the terrace in my compound. I am fascinated by the green grass covering the ground, the trees providing shade to the wooden gazebos placed just underneath them and how the sun illuminated the terrace providing a warm beam toward the porch and both lighting and shading the view, capturing a slow photo that changes with the season of the year. The small rose garden at the end, close to the brick wall fortifying my house. This was my gardener’s expression of my backyard beauty and how he maintained it.
I take a knee for a moment, and a sudden feeling of déjà vu arises. I am placed as a young boy on the school doorstep as my father walks me in to class, I notice my laces are untangled and I look up for his assistance. He smiles and says, who will assist you when am not around. He takes a knee and tells me to observe carefully, he picks up the right lace and left lace and ties them over the other, he then take both laces and makes a loop with both ends and ties them over each other again, and pulls them tightly in the opposite direction. He calls it a bunny knot. He stands up and says, this doesn’t mean you don’t have to tie your laces again. A stretch of one lace will untie your knot, but the trick is to make it as tight as possible so as to make it difficult for them to come apart. I remember that day clearly like the blue sky every morning this was my father expression to learning new things.
Dear panelist I might not be the most articulate of all your applicants, I might not be the best at expressing my thoughts through words at the panel. I take a pause to breath before I state, time to envision my thoughts, strategy and self-description. If I was a musician I would answer you in a song because that how I know best, if I was an architect all take time to build a building and present to you and if I was a teacher all take time to make you understand a concept. You would not call a mug a mug if there is no tea on it, it might just be a souvenir. You cannot call a spade unless there is a hole dug beside it.