HOW GREAT IS YOUR DARKNESS?

On the 8^th of January 2016, while  on a 4-day retreat to a relatively calm and peaceful town, I met a certain man named  Temitope. He was a charming young man in his mid to  late twenties, about 6 ft tall, with dark brown hair & a pair of bright eyes. He wore a warm smile that slightly exposed  his beautiful dentition, and had a pleasantly infectious attitude from the first moment you met him. Fate willed our meeting in a most unprecedented manner that soon left me pondering  the imbalance of life itself.

On the eve of my departure, following a refreshing time spent in solitude, I decided to take a stroll around town. After a long walk  from my lodging, there stood a church building just ahead, so I went in  to whisper a few words to God for an amazing time well spent. I had not paid much attention to the few other persons who came to pray as well, and just as I was about to leave the altar where I was kneeling, a gentle voice  beckoned on me. 

“Good evening Sir, I’m so sorry to bother you. I was hoping you could kindly assist me back to my place”, he said.

“Aha! The very familiar line! Alas the menace of street begging had now subtly crept into the body of Christ too, I thought to myself in disdain and turned to leave. Uttering no words, I made for the exit.

As I walked away, I momentarily looked over my shoulders only to realize that he still remained at the exact spot where he had spoken to me, and had not moved an inch away from the pulpit. I stopped in my tracks; there was certainly more to his request than meets the eye. I was curious, so, I turned and walked back towards him.

“What’s your name”, I asked

“Temitope sir”, he replied as politely as ever

“So you want me to assist you back to your place right?

“Yes sir”, he replied

“And where is your place? I continued

“It’s a few row of seats away at the left section of the church. I have a mat laid on the floor”, he gestured with his left hand while his right clutched tight a bulky bible.

This wasn’t the response I expected, I had certainly judged him wrongly.

I tried to look in the direction in which his hand had pointed earlier but I couldn’t seem to trace what he was talking about.

“What’s the colour of your mat? I asked, curious and almost confused

“I do not know what colour it is sir”, he paused. I cannot tell, because I’m blind” he said.

It was at that moment it hit me! It was only then that I took a good look at him and realized that although his eyes were wide open, yet they were fixated, for he really was blind. Immediately, like a pack of crashing cards, my heart melted in submission.

“How then do we get you to your seat if I do not know what colour your mat is, for there are many mats on the floor scattered around and…”

“I know how to get there, he interjected. All I need is some assistance to the walkway where the smooth and rough floor section intersects. From there I will be fine”, he described.

He really did know his way around.

So I proceeded to lead him to the point he had requested - where the tiled and interlocked floors met, and watched him find his way to where he was previously seated totally unaided, save for his  walking stick. He counted steps, made turns, and checked with landmarks, touching pillars until he got to a row of seats. He paused and motioned that the mat should be somewhere along the row. I had been following closely so I looked up in the direction of his leading, and there the mat was - laid on the floor, as he had said. A  Green Mat.  After I watched him lay  down to take a nap, I carefully walked away and couldn’t help but feel so much empathy for him. I had loads of questions; mostly for  God, and a few for him. He appeared vulnerable, exposed and totally unprotected from any sort of danger. Overwhelmed by this experience, with emotions welling up, I fell on my knees and wept profusely.

“Appreciate the beauty of life and the ability to see them, because some are visually impaired, and would give absolutely everything, to behold only a fraction of what you see. What do you see? ”…Akinyemi Fasanmi