When I was a child, I wanted to become a lawyer. Some of my friends wanted to become pilots and neurosurgeons. These professional ambitions filled our parents with hope because jobs in these fields were held in high esteem. My brother, however, wanted to become a bus driver. When he first told us about his interest in bus driving, we laughed our butts of. Such kinds of interests were unheard of and so, we brushed this off and hoped he would realise that he needed to dare to dream as big as engineering goes.
Two months ago, a friend of mine from school put me on phone with his eight-year old sister.
“Hello?” inquired a soft voice thickly laced with Maasai accent.
This lovely voice unearthed what had been my dream in form three. It thawed all the cold I had caught from sciences of the environment and reminded me that I had once thought of being a paeditrician before national examination results pronounced me a patient.
“You have a beautiful voice, what is your name?” I asked without hesitating.
I was thinking to myself this is a soloist’s voice as the girl raved on about how much she loved school. I did a happy dance when she told me she loved singing, but my dance was cut short when she told me she wanted to be a teacher.
I got quite disappointed, partially because I thought she could move crowds as a singer and not as a teacher, and partially because I had never met someone younger than my aunties aspiring to be a teacher.
“Are you sure that is what you want to do?” I inquired as I pondered over the idea of her voice imparting knowledge and not serenading a crowd of shuka-clad men and women with teeth gaps in both their lower and upper jaws.
I happened to understand that I was afraid of the bravery her voice carried with it as she declared her ambition to become a teacher despite loving singing. I realised that there was nothing wrong with my brother wanting to be a bus driver. I was only clinging onto the belief that what my parents wanted was what I needed to pursue.
“Tsk!” I sighed at the comfort of the cowardliness that lain me in bed and covered me with the duvet of fantasy when brave ladies and gents were busy changing to courses they wanted to pursue.
” My name is Sempeiyo and you have a nice voice too!” I recalled as I made a mental note to get my voice on radio as soon as the sun shone on this dream.