What If?

This is just a brief post to cause us to THINK. Yeah, I know; most of my posts causes people to think but this one's sort of different. It'a a rhetorical question sort of post. But you can choose to provide answers anyways.

So, I'm currently in the office where I run a 9-5 job, I'm creating graphic designs and marketing content for the company, listening to Travis Greene bless and empower my spirit woman with his gospel melodies and then a thought struck me like lightening. I had to pause my roving mind to ask myself; Glory, what if you were deaf? Would you be able to listen and appreciate the gifted voice of Travis Green? What if the only way you can hear is by reading lips? What if you can't see? Would you be able to see the smile lighting up your face as you appreciate the lyrics of his songs?

You see, I couldn't answer my questions. I still can't. I'm overwhelmed with so much gratitude for completeness. You see, I have someone really close to me who's deaf and dumb and growing up in the same family, sharing the same blood running through our veins, sharing the same surname, sharing the same parents and siblings, I found it difficult to understand why my sister couldn't hear the things I heard or appreciate the noisy environment we grew up in. I found it difficult to understand why she could only sign to me in quince English and not pidgin as we enjoy using for communication among ourselves as kids. Even when I finally learnt sign language so I could communicate with her freely, attend her Jehovah's witness meetings with her just so I could understand the peculiarities of her world, I still found it sometimes frustrating that she couldn't give the level of enthusiasm and excitement I would give to an experience or situation. And when she got really mad at me or any of my siblings, I got angry and felt she had no right to get too pissed but she could be pissed just a lil bit.

Ah! Those years, my naive little mind lacked understanding and even though we were best of friends, I still didn't understand why she was deaf and we weren't. I'm not deaf and dumb now. I don't pray to be but today, for the first time, I'm picturing myself in that situation, having that sort of struggle, that sort of life, that sort of foreverness to deal with and I just keep asking myself,;

 Glory, what if?

My sister is married with kids, she's alive and well. Yes! She has a life of her own and I'm thankful for that.

I just want us to take this few minutes to ask ourselves these questions, ponder on them and use well what we've been given freely.

1. What if we couldn't speak
2. What if we couldn't hear
3. What if we couldn't feel
4. What if we couldn't breathe
5. What if we couldn't walk
6. What if we couldn't touch
7. What if we couldn't see
8. What if we couldn't eat or drink
9. What if we weren't male or female
10. What if we were animals
11. What if we were plants
12. What if we were objects
13. What if we didn't exist at all
14. What if we had no love
15. What if we had no family
16. What if we had no friends
17. What if we had no kids
18. What if we had no hope
19. What if we have no future
20. What if we had nothing at all?

WHAT IF?

Use rightly what you've been given freely

Cheers!

(Sorry, it turned out to be a bit lengthy. I write too much)

SOPHIA'S 1,000 VOICES

The cold tiles of the room sent shock waves up her bum to her spine and then her brain but her mind was just too numb to feel anything. Her mind was crowded causing a standstill traffic for her nerves to feel anything; her head was a symphony of a thousand voices, all of them talking at the same time. She could hear all but she couldn't listen to what each was saying.

She wanted a life for herself, a not so luxurious life but just a life that she could define as one befitting of a young single woman. She wanted a life that didn't require her to sell her sanity in exchange for comfort. A life that didn't demand of her to trade her self esteem. A life that didn't cajole her into the den of lecherous ogling eyes and tongues.

Sophia stood up and walked to her mirror. She loved her mirror. She loved it because, whenever she looked into it, she saw her mind. It wasn't just a mirror; it wasn't mystical either. It was indeed a mirror to her soul. She loved it because it knew how to comfort her with the fact that she wasn't ordinary. Without words, it told her that she was unique, different and weird.

Standing there, she thought about her major problem; regaining sanity.

She thought out loud to herself, "Sanity is priceless, sanity is expensive, sanity comes at a price and sanity could be lost if not secured" In her case, she was at the verge of losing hers and she was fighting so hard to protect what remained of it. "How exhausting" she sighed.


She dragged out her shisha pot from the side of her bed. She added her usual mixture, lit it up and took a long drag from it before puffing out the aromatic substance. With eyes half closed, her senses reeling with gratitude for finding release, she sank to the floor again; her pipe in her hand. She took another drag, exhaled, another drag, exhaled and another and another again until the only thing she could see was the fog that had clouded the room. Then she started smiling. It wasn't a smile of contentment; it was a smile that came in place of the tears that had maliciously stayed stuck to her tear glands, teasing her eyes but refusing to let go with dignity.

Sophia looked at the pipe which had turned her companion overtime and said to it;

"For every human is a being with a thousand voices saying, telling, yelling, soothing, warning, cajoling, advising, scolding, sweet talking but rarely listening because we do the listening. We were created to be the listeners"

The pipe slipped from her grip and slowly, she crawled into her bed  and held on tight to her pillow like the sanity she's fighting to secure.