I was recently asked to participate in a session where speakers were tasked to talk about a significant relationship in their lives. Each speaker had five minutes and the only rule was the story had to be truthful. I chose to talk about The Radio, My Friend.
My mother smoked during her pregnancy with me. It was the late ’70s, and this wasn’t unusual. She did slow down on the drinking and says I used to do somersaults in the womb whenever she had wine. The results of 20 a day revealed themselves slowly.
At the age of three, I was diagnosed with a sight abnormality. I had no 3D depth perception and a stigmatism in my right eye. By the time I entered the grade one, I had serious visual developmental issues. I couldn’t draw—and still can’t—and used to regularly catch a ball, with my face.
At age seven, I had the visual development of a three-year-old but the hearing ability of a 12-year-old.
I quickly learned to listen intently, absorbing all the voices, sounds, noises and music around me. I loved listening to conversations among the elders. Music on cassette tapes or vinyl was a treat, and I often listened to the TV more than I watched it.
Life in focus
I fell in love with language, music and sound. It was where I found clarity, information, and solace. Audio was where everything truly came into focus.
With the dawn of democracy in 1994 in South Africa, the media landscape flourished with newfound freedoms, and community radio was born. Although I wasn’t immediately drawn to the medium, I loved hearing people who spoke the way I did, played the music I loved, and referenced things in my world.
I listened to the radio late into the night: political debates, call-in shows with diverse opinions, obscure music, local musicians, and all the hits. This was a world before social media, Google, or Shazam. If you missed the name of a song, you simply didn’t know what it was.
As a teenager, I was fascinated by democracy in action. South Africa was celebrated globally as the Rainbow Nation, and I was living this reality. My local campus radio station provided the soundtrack to my youth, shaping my thoughts with every conversation, show, and song.
Discussing what we heard on the radio was even better than dissecting Beverly Hills 90210. The images on the radio really were clearer than those on TV.
Pick me!
My interest in politics and government led me to believe I’d make a great diplomat. I entered the same university that housed my campus radio station, studying law and politics, but I still hadn’t considered radio as an option—until one February morning in 1996, when everything changed.
The DJ on-air was inviting first-year students to join the radio station. In that instant, I thought, Yes, I can do that. My early exposure to music and language as a visually challenged child finally began to pay off.
Different relationships teach you different things. The first thing the radio taught me was to believe in myself. It gave me confidence. It pushed me to raise my hand and say, Pick me!
Relationships also define character. The radio taught me patience—like trying to learn the craft at 3am. It taught me that equipment is heavy and there’s little glamour in carrying it on your own. The radio taught me to listen. It taught me humility. It taught me about solitude and connection.
What I loved about my relationship with the radio was how personal it was, despite its public nature. The radio is intimate. It shares your most complex thoughts and simplest desires. It doesn’t falter—it’s always on, always speaking your language, always in tune with you.
Mirrors the community
The radio is the sound of a community in both good times and bad. It mirrors the mood of the community it serves. I’ll never forget listening to Z100 in New York when the Twin Towers fell on 11 September 2001. If any friend understood that city’s grief, it was the radio.
The radio has been forgiving and kind, yet firm and strict. It has taught me about time and timing. It’s made me curious and encouraged me to ask questions. It’s demanded that I stay interested and keep learning.
The radio has been my travel companion, taking me across Africa, Europe, the US, and the Far East. It’s also taken me down the road and into the homes of countless people.
Radio is more than a box you listen to. It’s an action, a verb, an act of audio. It’s a good friend—collaborative and inclusive, playing nicely with digital, video, and social media. The radio isn’t jealous; it lets everyone in.
Imagination and innovation
The radio has taught me imagination, innovation, and creativity. It’s introduced me to people and cultures, joy and sorrow, and the resilience of the human spirit.
I’ve been lucky to listen to the radio and call it my friend. Even more so, I’ve been fortunate to be on the radio and be a friend to others.
Radio relationships are real. They resonate. They’re reciprocal, relatable, and relevant. The radio is patient, powerful, and poignant. With these qualities, why wouldn’t you want the radio as your friend?
Oh yes—the radio also taught me to never let the truth get in the way of a good story. My mother never smoked when she was pregnant with me, but I did grow up with a visual impairment. The radio understands that, and I hope you do too.
Please meet my friend, the radio.
Tim Zunckel is an audio ambassador and lover of stories. He currently works for Internews as the regional media business advisor for Africa.
