Meet Kenya’s first blind golfer

It wouldn’t be a gross misinterpretation to say that most successes that came Dr Kibaya Laibuta’s way were in many ways fueled by him losing his eyesight when he was a 22-year-old university student.

It’s because of this that he went back to university to pursue Law instead of Commerce.

And a scholarship afterward to attend the London School Of Economics for his Master’s Degree in Law. And a doctorate in philosophy in Laws soon after.

Now he’s the first blind golfer in Kenya, and a 28 handicap at that.

He owes a lot to the Kenya Society of the Blind (KSB) who he says helped him scale heights he didn’t envision. And it’s because of that he’s trying to raise Sh1.6 billion towards the society under the unique 1,000 Holes Blind Golf Challenge.

We met for tea at Muthaiga Golf Club one rainy morning where he showed up with his sense of humour and Vincent Wang’ombe of the Kenya Golf Union. Outside, long sheets of rain pounded the lush fairway.
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You seem to be comfortable with the word “blind”, yet my experience with people with that disability have a problem with being called blind.

Well, not really. It is just that other people are not used to other terms. We talk of visual impairment, loss of sight. But blindness is referred to as total loss of vision. Then there are those who object and say, “Look, I have vision even though I may not have sight.”

Semantics, huh?

Yeah. So, loss of sight, newly blinded….

How did you lose yours?

I lost my sight at age 22 while at university, first year. It was purely a medical accident. I got treated for malaria, got treated with Chloroquine, got Chloroquine poisoning and my sight went in two hours. The first thing you are confronted with is shock, unless the loss of sight is gradual and you know it is coming. When it is a sudden loss of total sight, you are thrown into shock, confusion, you are derailed from your normal course in life; be it school, college, work etc.

First of all, you need an Institute, which are not so many here. We have the Kenya Society for the Blind (KSB), Machakos Institute for the Blind, and schools for the blind, but that is for children). Now, when we come to grown-ups, it is different. You can either go to Machakos which is residential or Kenya Society for the Blind.
You need modern equipment and training personnel. And that is why KSB has come up with plans to expand its programme, not just to accommodate the newly blinded in Kenya but also in the region.

Was there some level of bitterness when you lost your sight?

The bitterness was more due to the fact that the medical personnel had no idea what was going on. Some consultants would say, “Oh no, this is just temporary, it will wear off in a year or so.” So you are like a guinea pig in a hospital for a month and 10 days undergoing all manner of tests. Eventually, I left the hospital not knowing what had happened. But what I know for sure is that it came out of that treatment.

I wouldn’t exactly call it bitterness. I would call it confusion. Fortunately, I had met blind students in college so I knew it is possible to be in university. The support from KSB, friends and family – I think that is what helped me pull through.

You were enrolled for a Commerce degree but after you lost your sight, you went to study law, why?

The change was necessitated by the fact that when you have no sight, it is very difficult to deal with statistics and graphs and things like that that are common in commerce. It requires time in training and equipment that we did not have at the time. But Law was a literary world where all you were dealing with was words.

Do you, at some point, get used to the blindness?

There are many times when you forget. On some occasions, I have forgotten my cane behind and just walked out. (Laughs).

Do you find people to be very helpful and sensitive to you and your needs?

Oh yeah, people are very sensitive. Problem is, people do not know how to handle you. They are not familiar with how to deal with people without sight. So they are confused. Others, of course, overreact, become overzealous, because they also do not know what your needs are.

(A waiter sets a bowl of nuts before him)

Wang’ombe to Laibuta: Your nuts are here, to your left.

What are your biggest needs?

I think my greatest needs right now are my nuts. (Laughs) But seriously, I think it’s the ability to read. I think what holds me back is the inability to pick up a book or a document to read at will. So the need for readers. You need a guide to go somewhere and there is no one available. The other needs? Independence, in just about every other aspect of your life.

I apologise beforehand but I am very curious. Have you ever used your blindness to your advantage?

(Laughs) No. If anything, I spend most of my time battling the disadvantages.

Wang’ombe: The other day I was telling Laibuta there is a “Disabled” parking just outside the entrance to the club. But he never uses it.

Why?

Wang’ombe: He says it is exploitative.

Why don’t you use your “Disabled parking,” daktari?

(Laughs) To me that parking is strategically placed for persons whose mobility is impaired. If someone drives in a modified car for example, he should be able to drive in and wheel out easily. You find, at times, that disability is all lumped together. You travel and the moment you land at an airport; somebody wants to put you in a wheelchair. Which is really indignifying, because you can probably walk faster than they can. (Laughs) .

What impact has the Kenya Society for the Blind had on you? How did they help you rehabilitate?

I lost sight at a time when the Executive Officer was a blind gentleman. The minute I left hospital to figure out where to get the map for this other new world, an uncle of mine talked to this gentleman and all he said was, “Welcome to the club,” and he laughed. That was Dr Tororei. They support blind people with equipment and advise on rehabilitation.

He thought that since I was a student, the best place for rehabilitation was Thika School for the Blind. So I joined other youngsters who were classes below me. They gave advisory support and equipment all the way. Including support with equipment at the university when I returned and provision of maintenance, provision of braille papers and all.

How do you play golf when you can’t see? I think that is the heart of this conversation.

(Laughs hard.) Let me say this. Golf is a game that requires skills and a measure of technicality or may I say physics? Every time the ball is hit with the club with a very small fix, and how you connect the strike with your club depends on what we call your swing. The swing takes a number of things. One, a stance – how you stand to hold the club and advise the ball. How you swing back and forth. Do you believe I can slap you?

Well, I do not want to find out...

(Laughs) Because if I know this is where you are standing and I know the length of my hand, which I never ever forget, (chuckle) I just swing my hand and slap you. Very easily. The same with the golf ball. I just need to know how far to stand and how low I should bend, sway back, and I will automatically hit that ball whether you like it or not. Most golf players will tell you that they can close their eyes and hit it. There are all sorts of decisions to make that are dependent on your skills.

Tell me about this “1000 Holes Blind Gold Challenge.”

A Thousand Holes Golf Challenge is a drive to help the Kenya Society for the Blind put up a rehabilitation centre, to meet the needs of the ever increasing number of people who need rehabilitation. OK. So why play golf instead of cycling? Or walking from Mombasa to Turkana? Or climbing mountains? I guess I wanted to pick on something that I enjoy doing. And something that I would do fairly independently. I do not think anybody locally has fundraised by playing 56 tournaments.

So you can invite some people who are not blind, eh?

Yes, yes yes. They can play blindfolded or not. We play purely to fundraise. It started at the beginning of this month. We kicked off, I think on the 2nd , and are still appealing to sponsors to support. What we really need is for people to either come and support the KSB Golf Day at Limuru in July or, in this one thousand holes. You can also pledge to sponsor a hole or two or 10 or the entire a thousand holes. Our paybill is 955150. Account: 1000 holes.

Is there one positive thing you could say about being blind?

There are lots of things. For one, I never took things seriously before I was blind. (Chuckles). The one thing that blindness awakened in me is the need to strive and achieve your maximum potential. And that, to me, is something positive. It comes with instinctive qualities of survival. You are only at par with others when you do above average with blindness. If you perform just like everyone else, then your blindness works against you. It is the first thing people will see.

If you were to regain your sight tomorrow, what’s the first thing you would like to see?

That is a difficult one. (Long pause). That’s a very hard one…(Pause). Maybe I should ask you that same question.

I would love to see the faces of my kids...

Actually, I was going to say the faces of my son, 32, daughter, 28, and granddaughter. But I know what my wife looks like.

You met before…

Yeah, we met before I lost my sight.

She must be quite the woman then, isn’t she? She did not take off...

Ah. No no no no, she didn’t. She came closer. (Laughs hard).

Daktari, how are you going to read this article when it’s published?

(Laughs) Once I get the newspaper, I will get someone to read it out for me.

Do me a favour, please get someone with a deep voice to read it, not a small whiny voice…

(Loud laughter) OK. I will. And thank you.

No, thank you, daktari.