Differently-abled!

A large glass water jar; crystal clear as the water it holds, sits majestically upon a long table layered by a green  floral-patterned table cloth. The jar's devoid of its previous occupant; a bubbling gold fish.
13 empty glass bottles which I fathom previously held liquor stand neatly filed on the table's edge. In one of the glass bottles; a potted plant grows, it's serpentine roots float aimlessly within the glass confines like an ensnared Medusa.

A crimson carpet covers the tiled Lumumba Boy's Hall floors. Clean cream walls enclose the room, green curtains shield the two wadrobes from prying eyes. Two neatly dressed metallic beds fill up the little space inside the room, in addition to the two wooden chairs wrapped in chair covers.

Upon the snowy white ceiling, the words imploring one to "ask but not steal"  line the ceiling. The neatness of Alex's room is startling.
Alex Lukwago is a visually impaired law student at Makerere university. He's one resilient fellow who refuses to let his total visual blindness impair his vision.

Born to a polygamous political father and business woman on the 30th day of November in 1993, Alex is the fifth child to the couple.
A quiet fellow who I later learn is Kigundu Wilson, Alex's helper walks in and eyes me suspiciously, Alex introduces us. Wilson mumbles his greetings.

Alex heaves deeply and asks whether I'm ready. He tells his tale.
"I wasn't born blind, I was a normal child till the day that has remain etched in my life; the 25th day of the 1997 December. Christmas. I was rushed to Mengo Hospital, Kampala where doctors predicted doom, a life of gradual sight loss. I held on unto my sight till 2003 when pitch darkness made my eyes their place of rest. Before then, I still could make out blurred objects before me.

We were devastated by the news. The frightening realisation that my life would soon be a sea of darkness was immense on my timid soul."
"The whispers turned steadily into songs, every one was certain I had been bewitched.  Doctors failing to identify a specific cause intensified the rumours. I've personally never been a believer in the existence of sorcery. My condition is wholly medical." he continues.

Alex speaks with a refreshing honesty, there isn't an iota of emotion detectable in his voice.

I ask whether he ever feels vulnerable. An emphatic "not in anyway" is uttered in response.
"I'd only feel vulnerable in the Gordian knot that Kampala city is. I can ably do as others. I can cook, peel matooke, read Braille, do my laundry, run my facebook, use my computer, have my own bath, find my way around familiar ground like any other." a sly touch of satisfaction embraces his words.

Alex adds, he used his remaining days of sight to identify the world around him. He remembers his parents faces, he remembers the description of beauty. He remembers the striking red colour. When night falls, he imagines the sparkling light of stars. He remembers all.
"It's a bit strange, some faces of the people you love, you hardly can recall. Those who came after you lost your sight you can only imagine what they look like." he says.

Inspiration.

"My parents! Mugerwa Robert and Kyalisima Prossy are my sources of inspiration. My mother is a mother of the Nation; a primary school teacher and Social worker in a Community Development Organisation. My father is a politician. His passion for farming contributes towards the food basket. He grows Cocoa and Coffee. In my eyes, they're a success story their own little way."

Passions and pleasures.

"I find loads of pleasure in pro- disability rights advocacy. I equally pride in extending a hand to those I consider more needy than I! I personally know what it means to live without!"
"I love music. I love novels, Julius Ocwinyo's Fate of the Banished is a personal best."  (mellow music plays off his cracked screen laptop while we talk.)

I carefully choose my next words and ask.
"Do you miss anything from the days of sight??"
" I miss riding." his voice trails off.

"Besides that, don't miss much. No I don't. I would have missed seeing  faces of people but somehow my imagination comes to my aid. I often make use of people's voices." he continues.
"The voice is a powerful tool. By their voice, I can tell someone's kind. I can discern one's height by their voice."

Bad moments?

"Losing my sight definitely. After I lost my sight, the 18th day of February 2016 haunts me, the fact that my vote somehow didn't count is one terrible thing. I feel I was robbed of my civic right. I left home that day with the assurance that I'd cast my vote. My name wasn't in the Voters' Registry, I've never been more embarrassed!"

Blame Game.

" I initially heaped blame upon God and my parents for my condition. I blamed my parents for not doing enough. I was angry and bitter.  I however was sadly wrong, my parents tried more than they ever could. The Good Lord has a purpose for which He took away my sight. "
" I equally blamed society for being unkind, inconsiderate, judgemental. My exploits must have changed the society's outlook.  I believe society 'feels me' when I return to my village. The news spreads across 7 hills!" he jests cheekily.

Fears.

" I haven’t any doubts that I'll get a job after here, no I don't think I'll
flop.  I however have a soul gnawing fear within me. Shall I be treated like the rest. Shall I suffer from the pains of job market discrimination based on my lack of sight.
What if after all this hustle I fail to find a job???  This is one honest fear I have."

Challenges?
"I'll personalise the challenges we face. They're of two kinds, mobility and accessibility. I personally find it difficult to move around places,  to which I'm not accustomed without requiring the need of another. A tinge of guilt flows through me when another helps me even out of the goodness of their heart, I feel I'm somehow an inconvenience to their life's schedule.

I bleed for my friends who use crutches and wheelchairs as movement aids. The Makerere University terrain is effortlessly frustrating."

Of the heart's cravings.
"I'm in relationship. I however won't mention names. The lady is in first year (will be in her 2nd year soon)" Alex chuckles at my relentless probing.( I tried people, chap wouldn't budge an inch.)

" We met way back in High school, at Iganga secondary school."
When I ask whether she's equally visually impaired. He responds in the negative chipping in that Iganga SS has a special needs section but it's a normal students school!

"I'm a man! I made the first move, we became friends and out of that innocent friendship, passions blossomed. She's understanding, caring, loving, infectious! "

Parental pressure.
Alex knows her birthday. His parents don't know about this relationship. He says they've been exerting slow but consistent pressure on him to get a girlfriend. Alex and his anonymous woman have been in a relationship for close to two years now. His face lightens up when he speaks of his girlfriend. His words are riddled with a certain mirthful quality. You don't need the finest spectacles to know he genuinely likes the girl whose name he won't say.

Last word.
" I don’t seek pity, my dignity won't let me. Empathy I might appreciate but I certainly won't welcome sympathy. I am human, normal like any other, with feelings and dreams. I hope society understands that. I
dream of getting married, passing the bar, becoming an advocate and
serving society."

Alex offered his thanks to me. And added.
  I also wish to thank all lecturers at Makerere University School of Law for their friendly policies towards we the differently-abled folk. Bless you."
"My Law class is living testimony of the goodness of society! My closest friend Malunga Acidri, is a gem. He leads me to and from class every single day! Bless that boy! It's difficult to imagine life without Malunga.

Ps. Alex read the Readings earlier this year during the Pope's visit at Namugongo. Close in tow was the rather noble Malunga!


Photos by Zahara Abdul!