The worst disability in life is a negative attitude

A contribution from kenyan journalist Olive Munyi
Carol Nderitu the famous poet has a competitor in Janet Wawira. At five years only, Janet has a deep clear voice especially when she is on stage doing what she loves best-to recite poems and read aloud to an audience.
She doesn’t know what audience. Or how many they are; neither does she know if they are frowning or smiling back at her; because she is blind.
On this particular occasion, Janet has waited a whole day, to entertain an audience that by now seem to know her by name. An audience she only trusts exists. She is a nursery school pupil at St Lucy’s School for the Blind in Igoji- Meru.
It is minutes to 5pm, patiently she seats on a bench outside room 4 where the adjudicators are busy listening to the ongoing category of public speaking. Amazed by her determination and patience, I slowly find my way and take the seat next to her and hold her tiny almost fragile hand. She smiles and asks my name, of which I remind her that we had met earlier.
There is a wise saying which states that the worst disability in life is a negative attitude. Looking at Janet one could be a fool to dispute.
She seems pensive as if in deep thought, so I try to inquire whether she is cold since the weather was rather chilly. She shakes her head, signaling that she is okay. After a few moments of silence she asks me where her teachers are, and I assure her that she is in safe hands and has absolutely nothing to worry about.
I try explaining to her that they were inside the room pleading with the adjudicators on her behalf so that she would be allowed to perform as soon as possible.
In this category Janet had only one competitor, both of whom were reciting poems.
Janet’s poem, ‘Lazy Lucy’, talks about a house help who likes to eat a lot and as a result, has grown so fat like a pig, yet continues to eat more food, doing no work and waiting to be paid.
“…she eats like a pig and she is just as big, she is very big, big like a pig…” she narrated, stretching her little arms.
She shifts on her seat and I notice that she is nervous and somewhat no longer certain of her surroundings. As if she read my mind, I feel her squeeze my hand in order to gain my attention and whispers, “Nashindana na nani?” (With whom am I competing?) She asks me. “Unaona kama nitashinda?” (Do you think I will win?) She asks with a giggle and I feel as if she is testing me.
For a moment am afraid, fearing that perhaps she knows more than she is willing to reveal. Because just next to her stood her sole competitor, a Meru Junior Nursery school pupil in tears and determined to go home tired of the long wait, the sooner the better her gestures seem to say.
After waiting for quite a while it was finally her turn to perform and her teacher aided her to the front. The room was already getting dark, but the silence was almost deafening as all waited to hear what Janet had for them this time round.
A little while later the signal to start goes and Janet turns to face the adjudicators and the audience. Unknowingly this time she turns away from them and faces sideways. Nobody, attempts to guide her, which was a good thing because she was enjoying herself immensely, telling the story of lazy Lucy.
Gesturing with her little hands, loud and clear she was pronouncing every vowel as if her life depended on it and before the adjudicator would digest what Janet was saying a loud clap of applause engulfed the room. It was the end and Janet was off the stage.