DREAM WEAVER

Until you share it, a dream is nothing but a nightmare. It festers within, unsettling you, and if kept too long, it gnaws at your heart, tearing it into shreds of unease.

I often say the same about the stories we write: every story is a product of a community. Without editors, publishers, proofreaders, and ultimately, an audience, there is no story. If you write something only you will ever read, it ceases to be a story; it remains merely an idea, a notion, a fleeting muse.

Yet, I faltered…

I had gathered nearly half the equipment for the radio station. I’d erected a tower and built two studios, one for production and the other for live broadcasting. The Maloto (dreams) still burned inside me, and I knew what I wanted: an art radio station.

At the time, even now as you read, there was nothing like it in all of Malawi, making it difficult to find a reference point, no existing model to study, no business framework to adapt into a proposal for potential backers.

Then came the day I sat down with a Dream Weaver, someone who gives shape and meaning to visions. I began pouring out my dreams to her, guiding her through every path I wished to walk, showing her every mountain, valley, river, and forest. And what did she do? She took up her magic wand, which, in this case, was a pen and paper, and wrote it all down, meticulously, completely.

When I opened my eyes, she had woven all my dreams into a tangible stack, bound together like a sacred manuscript.

This was where we shaped the vision and mission of the radio station, where we pieced together our first programs and mapped out the steps to turn our on-air dreams into reality.

We hadn’t yet broadcast over the airwaves; we were still streaming online. But even then, we performed with the same fire as if we were live on the megahertz, reaching every corner of the nation.

Now, I watch the dream unfold, mountains and valleys, thorns and sand. But the beauty of a dream is this: while others see things in daylight, you’ve already walked through them in your sleep.

One day, I’ll write properly about this Dream Weaver, the one who helped bring Story Club FM  to life, Tammy Clare Mbendera. Receive your flowers.  Sometimes, dream-weavers sit unseen in the shadows, but no dream is ever the work of just one person; every dream is the product of a collective.