A Doorbell, A Dream, and a Leap of Faith [Part 1]

I think in this life, people don’t give themselves a chance. But who am I to point fingers? I was exactly like you. I used to convince myself that I couldn’t do things too, until I just did it.

It all started on the last day of my holiday before heading back to university. I was doom-scrolling on Instagram when I came across a video of a man asking people to come and ring his doorbell. At first, I thought, Why would this millionaire want everyone to know where he lives? But as I kept watching, I realised that this wasn’t just any doorbell. It was attached to a derelict staircase in Twickenham, nicknamed the doorbell of dreams.

Still confused? Don’t worry, so was I. Let me clarify.

This man, Simon Squibb, was inviting people to ring the doorbell and speak to it about their dreams because he was actually willing to help those who did. I remember laughing at my phone screen, knowing deep down that my laugh was masking a tiny glimmer of hope inside me.

Do I go? Should I talk to a doorbell? No way. I’m going to look stupid. But what if he sees my dream? What if he can help?

These thoughts were racing through my mind. There was only one way to settle the debate: ask my mum. Because mothers know best.

I walked downstairs, entered my mum’s room, and simply asked, “Should I go?”

Now, keep in mind, I was supposed to travel from London to Leeds the next morning. If I was going to do this, it had to be today.

Without hesitation, my mum said, “Reiham, go right now. You never know what might happen.”

You never know what might happen.

She was right. I didn’t know. And what was the worst that could happen? He doesn’t see my video, and life goes on as normal.

I don’t know what came over me that day, but I just had this gut feeling to go. To live. To just do it.

I got ready, left my house before sunset, and set out in the rain to find this mysterious doorbell. When I finally did, I recorded my message eight times. Each attempt, I was more nervous than the last. But eventually, I just started talking. I rambled about this baby journal I had designed, sitting on my desktop with no funds to get it printed. I talked about how I had always wanted to start something that had an impact on others. I kept going on and on, pouring out my passion, my love, my belief in this idea. And when I was done, I listened to the doorbell play a little jingle, confirming my recording was sent.

And that was it. I left.

The next morning, I travelled to Leeds, hoping, just maybe, something might happen.

Halfway through my four-hour coach ride, I started drifting off to sleep. Then suddenly, Siri announced an Instagram notification in my ear. I opened my eyes, checked my phone, and I couldn’t believe it. The Simon Squibb had sent me a voice message.

It said:

"Hi there, it’s Simon Squibb. I just saw your clip, it’s actually ready to go out on social media. We haven’t posted it yet, but I was wondering, is there any chance you could meet me and my team for breakfast on Friday morning? We’d love to hear more and see how we can support."

I called my mum immediately. We both screamed.

Still sitting on that coach to Leeds, I booked my ticket straight back to London for Friday morning.