These are two true stories of children with eyesight problems. The first is narrated by the parent, the second is narrated by the child, now an adult.
Seeing in twos
This is a dog.
This is a dog.
For the umpteenth time, my child had copied each sentence from the blackboard two times instead of once. The previous day, he got punished by his class 1 teacher. Junior was neither lazy nor mischievous. Perhaps he was just tired? I queried him.
“I saw it twice, Mummy”. Junior was almost in tears. But the teacher had told me that she had written each sentence once, and Junior was supposed to write it once as well. She had asked me to speak to him about it.
I went to bed not too disturbed. After all, motherhood was tough and little boys can be full of pranks. One had to try not to make mountains out of mole hills. The next morning though, while preparing Junior to go to school, I had a brainwave.
“Junior, dress up quickly and come and show me how nicely you can write at school”.
My son had a frown on his face when he came to sit down to write. He wrote ‘a lion has a tail’. Then he wrote it again. I was shocked. I had written it only once for him to copy.
“Mummy, is it nice?”
“Of course, my darling! You write so beautifully”.
I started to sweat. Something was wrong. However, I knew where to go for help. My sister was an ophthalmologist. I decided then to let Junior have his eyes checked. A week later, she told me Junior had double vision. His was correctable with spectacles. Which Junior began to use. The only problem was that he tended to lose it every few months, but ‘how for do’? Anything for my baby.
Front row student
For as long as I could remember, I recognised my dad in the distance by his gait. He was a tall man with a confident stride and a booming voice. I recognised him long before I saw his face, and his smile. I only saw his smile when he was quite close.
There was something else about me that I did not know was interesting. I sat in the front row everywhere-school, church, catechism. It was never a problem for me. There was not really a clamour for the front row. People preferred to leave those seats for the teachers’ pets. And teachers’ pet I was!
This was just who I am. People said I wasn’t friendly. They gossiped to others that they would wave or smile at me, and I wouldn’t return the gesture. Mostly, they lied. No one would wave at me that I would ignore. They lied but I wasn’t really bothered. If people chose to dislike me for no reason, it was their business and not mine. I had my very small circle of friends, an extremely loving family, lots, and lots of storybooks. My world was complete.
This was my life for several years until one day, a teacher in Secondary School asked me to sit at the back row to break up a clique of talkative girls in class. I complained that I was unable to see the writings on the blackboard from the back of the class. He was surprised. He suggested I got my eyes checked. I told my mum who took me to the eye clinic during mid-term holidays. I was referred for spectacles. I was told then that I was short-sighted.
My life changed the first day I wore my spectacles. Wao, could people really see from that far way?! I recognised my dad from a distance by looking at his face. He had a smile for me, a smile he had always had whenever he saw me while coming back from work. Only I had never been able to see it from so far off. It was amazing to see the smiles and waves of my classmates from a distance. I smiled and waved back. I still loved my books, and sat in front, but gradually, my circle of friends expanded. And I loved my life-changing spectacles.