By H H Mohrmen
Living in a world of darkness is not fun. That is what one might assume about the lives of visually impaired people. What kind of life does one live when one cannot see anything? Their lives must be dark and dull one would think, but is it really so?
I consider myself lucky to have received the love and gained the trust of my visually impaired friends. It is truly a privilege to be welcomed into their lives. I feel blessed to have the opportunity to be part of their difficult journeys.
The first thing we realise when we engage with them is that they all want to be independent. They don’t want to depend on their parents for their needs. In fact, despite the challenges they face, they strive to earn a living on their own. To support what they had already started, we from the Society for Urba and Rural Employment (SURE) decided to provide them with some skill training. After due consultation, we conducted two training sessions on making brooms from natural broom grass. The first training was held at Moosakhia in November 2023.
They Are Vulnerable
During my visit to the centre on November 23, I approached the place silently, without speaking to anyone. We had engaged two helpers to assist them, but they were busy in the kitchen. At that moment, the entire space was occupied by the visually impaired trainees, and even Kelvin Suting the trainer we engaged is visually impaired. While everyone was busy with the training, two trainees were sitting outside.
It was winter, so Krishna Phawa and Riangmon Myrchiang were sitting outside, basking in the sun. When they heard footsteps, Riang turned his head towards Krishna and murmured, “I heard footsteps. Somebody is coming. Who could it be?” While I silently observed the scene, Krishna replied in a softer voice, “I don’t know, I heard it too.”
I stood there for some time and, without talking to anyone, I moved towards the centre where the others were busy making broomsticks. I stood at the door watching them work, saying nothing. Everyone sensed that someone was standing at the door, but they couldn’t see and didn’t know who it was.
They were suspicious. In their minds, they were probably wondering whether it was someone dangerous or someone familiar playing a trick on them.
Then Kelvin Suting, the trainer—who is also visually impaired—returned from the kitchen and walked into the room. He bumped into me as I continued to stay silent. When I didn’t speak, he became suspicious and started touching me to identify who I was. He felt my clothes, then my hands, my watch, and finally touched my fingers, where I was holding my diary. He exclaimed, “It’s Pastor, isn’t it?”
I burst out laughing, and they all laughed too. The tense moment instantly dissolved, and laughter filled the room. It was a memorable experience that also made me realise how vulnerable they are because of their condition.
They Enjoy Humour Too
Another interesting incident occurred during one of my visits when they were busy with the training. While Kelvin was teaching Iba a new design for tying a broomstick, Durka, who was sitting next to him, was also working diligently. While she was focused on her task, the tip of her broomstick nearly pierced Kelvin’s eye. Sensing it, Kelvin said jokingly, “Please mind your broom, or it might poke my eyes and make me lose my sight.” They all burst out laughing. Not to be outdone, Durka replied, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it. But imagine what will happen to us if our teacher becomes blind!” And they laughed even harder.
Later, while Iba was working, broom dust flew into her already vulnerable eyes. She cried out, “Aw, it hurts! This will make me blind!” To which I quickly responded, “If all of you become blind, then what will happen to the training?” Everyone laughed—because they were all already blind.
Another small anecdote happened when Mary, who was struggling with her broom, called out to Kelvin, the master trainer, “Sir, can you look at my broom and tell me if the design is right?” Kelvin responded, “Well, I’m sorry. I cannot see; I can only feel and touch.”
A Life-Changing and Life-Fulfilling Experience
A few days before the training ended, the visually impaired master trainer asked if we could arrange a picnic or outing to Loomkyntoor Resort. Although no funds were allocated under the scheme for such an excursion, we decided to give them the opportunity using our own resources.
But the question is: What does an outing mean for a group of visually impaired people? What does a trip mean when one cannot see?
The organisation’s staff never imagined that the outing would make them happier than it made the visually impaired participants. It is said that there is no greater reward than seeing happiness in the lives of those you care for. For them, going on a picnic was just an event. But for us, it was a life-changing and life-fulfilling experience.
Another lesson I learned is that visually impaired people work best when they are in a group. The picnic was an opportunity to go together as a team, and the experience was truly indescribable. One could feel the camaraderie they had built among themselves.
It was a joy to see them happy, to help describe the surroundings to them. For some, it was their first time eating out or visiting a restaurant.
Visually Impaired and Photography
Now, most of the visually impaired persons we engage with, own smartphones. These devices are extremely useful to them, especially for social media. They use their phones to make calls, send and read texts, and even take photographs.
Thanks to technological advancements, smartphones have become great aids. There are apps that help them read and write messages. But for a visually impaired person, photography is a different ball game altogether.
One might wonder: Why would they want to take a photograph when they cannot see? How would they even take one? And what would they do with the photos? While there are apps to assist them in taking pictures, they still need help to capture good ones. Once a photo is taken, they immediately upload it to their social media status.
Even though they are blind, the voice-assisted features on the phone help them take photos and share them on various platforms. These apps inform them if the photo is framed correctly and guide them to move in the right direction for a perfect shot.
You can see the joy on their faces when they upload a status on WhatsApp. Thanks to smartphones, they are making the best use of technology. In many ways, smartphones have become an extension of their being, giving them access to services that would otherwise be difficult to reach.
Taking the Bull by the Horns
On one occasion, I accompanied a group of our visually impaired friends to the DC’s office to meet the Additional Deputy Commissioner, seeking redress for some of their grievances. One of their demands was the right to a special job card under the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme (MGNREGS), which they had been denied.
During the discussion, the officer unknowingly used the Khasi words matlah (blind) and don jingduna (disabled) while referring to them. Krishna immediately responded, telling him bluntly that they do not like being called such terms. Iba supported him, and the officer had to apologise and correct himself. Government officials also need to be educated on the proper, respectful terminology when referring to differently-abled people. These may seem like minor issues, but only the one who wears the shoe knows where it pinches.
The extension of wtheir white cane
Their eyes may be closed, but their hearts are open. They long for the independence to live the lives they choose for themselves, yet that’s often not possible. The white cane they carry with them everywhere they go is not just a symbol which represents the visually impair people, but more importantly they consider it to be their best friend. Having a white cane is handy, but there is nothing like having a human friend to support and help them. So please reach out to them whenever you see them venturing out of their homes. It means a lot to them.