Child Of A Blind Man Poem by Preston Mwiinga

My life style makes me to be daddy's boy on the same hand it qualifies her to be mummy's girl.
On the contrary it should have been otherwise but because of my daddy's status, I am what I am.

My growing up is not a pleasing life as I have no Childhood. I do not have proper time to play with my friends as I am like that fellow on a pilgrimage. I am my blind father's guide. I am his pillar as well as his eyes.
I am his best companion as well as his voice, l am my daddy's special envoy to the society.

I hear parents encouraging their children to learn so that they have a bright future, I meet them driving and walking their children to schools, together they always look happy.
I see them stopping over cream land and hungry lion for meals and snacks, it is mostly true that they always look happy even as they communicate in the modern language, English

I again not accidentally meet them at Levy Mall at the jumping castles as I walk my blind dad with our cracked lips, weakened bodies, torn clothes begging for money.
If being educated is a solution to being responsible then education is a stranger in my life. At the tender age, I am already a bread winner.I can not beg in the modern language like their children but I can say, Nipempako tandizo

If no one is ready to help us, we follow them, touch their garments even as we beg.
The good Samaritans do help us but others really get frustrated if we touch their garments, it is like we are the carriers of cholera.

When walking back homeafter the long hustle, we see people looking at us like total strangers.
I even hear some of them uttering Mwana wa mpomfu na mpofu uyo
It is as if my dad chose to be blind or as if I chose to be his fresh and blood.
When we go to church, some members move away from seating next to us, it is as if we stink, when we shake their hands after the service, they don't forget to clean their hands with a sanitize.
We are never allowed to go for any joyous public gathering because of our status.
But even as we face these things we always look at that great man who made the blind to see, the crippled to walk, the dead to rise. I am looking up to that man who welcomed everyone to his side, be it the rich or the poor.

I am a child of a blind man but I am not ashamed to mention my unending love for him.
He be blind but he is the reason behind my existence.
He may not be able to take me to any school but still he is my best teacher because he is always teaching me ways of life.
I may not be able to utter any word in English but atleast I can explain about the norms of life.
He may not be able to take me to cream land for ice cream and a bottle if mineral water atleast he is able to get me a freezit, chitumbuwa and water packed by the locals.
Life is fun with us because my blind dad and I have chosen to accept what is before us.
I love my blind dad because I a product of love.
Laugh at me if you want,treat me like a total stranger if you so wish, call me all sorts if names but remember my daddy and God love me. We may be like this poor but our situation is not final.We are following that light of hope.