“Changing attitudes about disability is mainly about education. That’s why I do my best to talk about my life.”
Amit Patel grew up in the town of Guildford, England. As the son of local corner shop owners, he was well known in his neighbourhood. A livewire, he liked nothing better than to try any new sport, especially those offering some risk. He was supported in all his endeavours by his close-knit family.
As someone who was not privately educated, attaining a place at Cambridge to read medicine was a notable achievement. It was during his university years that Amit learned he had an eye condition – one that should be correctable with surgery. Treatment was not as straightforward as expected. He underwent numerous procedures, although these did enable him to finish his training and enter his specialism as an A&E doctor, working at a busy London hospital. He married the girl of his dreams – Seema – at a lavish wedding attended by 600 friends and relations. They settled down to enjoy married life in a house close to Amit’s parents.
Kika & Me is Amit’s memoir. Although opening with a prologue describing an episode of disturbing human cruelty, the chapters covering his early life paint a picture of perfect happiness. Perhaps that is how he remembers those years given what happened next. In November 2013 he woke up with blurred vision, quickly and unexpectedly losing his sight altogether. Not only was he plunged into a world of darkness, this was accompanied by constant pain. Drugged and depressed, grieving for an expected future he had been anticipating with relish, he pushed Seema away.
Thankfully for Amit, his wife is a determined individual. At the end of the book she provides a brief account of how she too suffered, but at the time she became the rock on which Amit could rebuild his life. Gradually he refocused on new achievements: learning braille, walking with the aid of a white stick, attending therapy sessions run by organisations supporting the visually impaired. He learned to ask for help and attained a degree of independence. Seema encouraged him to apply for a guide dog – a move that would transform their lives for the better.
The writing style is simple and unchallenging but provides fascinating insight into the process of learning to live with blindness. It is horrifying to consider how some people treat the visually impaired – selfish thoughtlessness, attempts at taking advantage, and worse. This is perhaps why a book such as this, bringing such issues to light, matters. The more that is understood about the difficulties faced, the more can be changed to help. Amit proved himself a fine advocate, unafraid to challenge when needed.
Social Media, particularly Twitter, showed him how he could raise awareness. After learning that, unbeknown to him, a fellow traveller on the underground had attacked his guide dog, Kika, he fitted her with a camera. He posted a short video clip of a subsequent attack that went viral. When people know what is happening and find it unacceptable, they may be more willing to help prevent a next time.
Amit was raised a Hindu and writes of his work trying to persuade Temple hierarchy to allow guide dogs admittance. Some have been more accommodating than others. Through responses to tweets, he garners the attention of the mainstream media. He has forged a role for himself as an advisor and speaker, working towards enhancing rights and fostering better understanding of difficulties the visually impaired must navigate.
The attention Amit now commands has granted him the attention of those with influence, as well as earning him awards that help raise his profile further. In gaining a new career, he has regained his self-esteem. His work has the potential to make life better for others.
In his personal life Amit has proved that a blind man can be a hands-on father, even when his efforts have not always met with support from other parents. He writes of his determination never to let his impairment hold his children back.
The book concludes with an ‘Ask Amit’ section that offers suggestions on how to treat those like the author – a useful guide for any who may wish to offer help without offending.
Although an easy, at times sugared, read, the story told fulfils its aim of raising awareness. Given all that Amit has achieved – including driving the ‘reasonably-fast car’ for an episode of Top Gear (!) – it is also an inspiring reminder that disabled does not equate to incapable.
My copy of this book was provided gratis by the publisher, PanMacMillan, at the request of The Barbellion Prize, for which it is shortlisted.
I find it so hard to understand how people can be deliberately cruel to guide dogs or to disabled people generally. These are the most vulnerable people in our society and surely need more consideration and compassion, not less.
Absolutely. Although a mostly positive memoir, I was shocked to read some of the author’s experiences.