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Why Should Blind People Be Put to the Test?

  • Writer: Thabo Baseki
    Thabo Baseki
  • 1 day ago
  • 3 min read

Updated: 20 hours ago

Two individuals meet - a woman wearing a dark blue blazer and a gentleman wearing a light blue, long-sleeved shirt. The man is blind and the woman is sighted, as indicated by the man's glasses. They greet each other with a warm and friendly handshake, displaying mutual friendship and respect.
The respectful and kind thing to do is simply greet each other and identify yourself when meeting anyone new - which also applies to blind people.

There’s a subtle but exhausting trend that many blind people know too well. It happens almost every time we meet someone sighted — whether at a gathering, on the street, or in a workplace. The person walks up, filled with excitement, but instead of saying who they are, they make you guess. Sometimes it’s a playful “Do you know who I am?” Other times, they keep completely silent, waiting for you to figure it out by their handshake, their voice, or even their scent.

 

At first glance, this may look harmless. Maybe it even feels fun for them — like a little game of recognition. But for the blind person on the receiving end, it isn’t fun at all. It’s pressure. And it’s not the kind of pressure that sighted people put on one another. When two sighted people meet, the usual thing is simple: they greet each other, often mentioning their name if there’s a chance of uncertainty. No games, no tests, no proving of memory. Yet, when it comes to blind people, it’s as though the rules change.

 

Think about this scenario: you’re at an event. Dozens of people are coming and going, conversations buzzing, introductions flying around. For a sighted person, identifying people is effortless — a glance across the room, a wave, a smile. But for someone blind, the process is different. And here’s where the frustration comes in. Almost everyone who approaches decides it’s the perfect time to “test” you: “Guess who I am!” or “Don’t you remember me?” Or worse, they stand silently, nudging your companion to ask you who they are, as though you’re part of a guessing show instead of a genuine human interaction.

 

Now pause and ask yourself — why is it that blind people are expected to perform this way? Why should recognizing someone’s voice, handshake, or perfume become a repeated exam? Isn’t it unfair that one person has to carry that burden when others never face it?

 

What’s often overlooked is that this habit is not about inclusion at all — it’s about exclusion. It builds walls instead of bridges, because instead of focusing on connection, it shifts the moment into a memory challenge. And the truth is, nobody wins. The blind person feels unnecessary pressure and possible embarrassment if they can’t place the voice immediately. The sighted person may feel disappointed if they weren’t recognized as fast as they hoped. Yet all of this could be avoided by the simplest of actions: saying your name.

 

Introducing yourself doesn’t kill excitement — it actually creates comfort. Imagine how much warmer a moment becomes when someone says, “Hey, it’s Naledi! So good to see you again.” There’s no second-guessing, no silent pressure, just the natural flow of conversation. That small courtesy transforms the interaction from a test into a true connection.

 

And here’s the bigger picture: inclusion is not only about grand gestures like building ramps, providing braille, or creating accessible technology. It’s also about the everyday social habits we practice. Inclusion means treating people equally — not putting one group under constant trials while letting others enjoy effortless interaction.

 

So the next time you meet a blind person, don’t turn the moment into a guessing game. Don’t stand quietly, waiting for them to prove they know you by your handshake or voice. Don’t ask, “Do you know who I am?” Instead, simply greet them by name. You may think it takes away the fun, but in truth, it adds something far more valuable: dignity, ease, and genuine human connection.

 

After all, isn’t that what we all want when we meet someone? To feel seen, respected, and included — not tested.

 



 
 
 

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