The Resilient Melody: A Farmer's Challenge and a Musician's Triumph
It was a quiet evening, and I found myself tending to my small farm, a cherished extension of my studies in Animal Health and Production. Among the animals, my rambunctious ram had been showing signs of distress, and I knew it needed immediate attention. Determined to care for it, I carefully approached, but in the process of restraining it, an unexpected twist unfolded—literally. My left middle finger bent backward in a way it wasn’t supposed to. Although the bone wasn’t broken, the pain and the sight of my twisted finger left me shaken.
That year was one of the toughest in my life. As a musicologist, my hands are more than tools—they are the instruments through which I express my passion. The thought of not being able to play the guitar or piano, even temporarily, was daunting. Yet, in that moment, I realized the incredible resilience of the human spirit and body. My backyard farm, once a place of solace, had become the scene of a challenge I had to overcome—not just physically but mentally.
Each day that followed became a lesson in perseverance. While I nursed my injured hand, I found creative ways to stay connected to music. That experience taught me the value of patience and adaptation, both as a farmer and a musician. Little did I know, the resilience I built in that season would shape the person I am today. (To be continued...)
Benedicta Attayo Philemon O'Arpelleh Stephanie Sika The Resilient Melody: A Farmer's Challenge and a Musician's Triumph
It was a quiet evening, and I found myself tending to my small farm, a cherished extension of my studies in Animal Health and Production. Among the animals, my rambunctious ram had been showing signs of distress, and I knew it needed immediate attention. Determined to care for it, I carefully approached, but in the process of restraining it, an unexpected twist unfolded—literally. My left middle finger bent backward in a way it wasn’t supposed to. Although the bone wasn’t broken, the pain and the sight of my twisted finger left me shaken.
That year was one of the toughest in my life. As a musicologist, my hands are more than tools—they are the instruments through which I express my passion. The thought of not being able to play the guitar or piano, even temporarily, was daunting. Yet, in that moment, I realized the incredible resilience of the human spirit and body. My backyard farm, once a place of solace, had become the scene of a challenge I had to overcome—not just physically but mentally.
Each day that followed became a lesson in perseverance. While I nursed my injured hand, I found creative ways to stay connected to music. That experience taught me the value of patience and adaptation, both as a farmer and a musician. Little did I know, the resilience I built in that season would shape the person I am today. (To be continued...)
[TaCheal] [philarpy] [Stephanie]
