Grade 11, Basa Combined school Protea Glen
eFikile, that’s my home. When you mention that to people outside of Fikile, they tend to avoid you, and honestly I cannot blame them. When people see this place, they see all the bad things you hear on the news. There was once this rumour that said there is a group of half-human and half-wolf people staying here. When I heard madam tell me that, I laughed so hard I had to sit down. Even madam was hesitant to hire me when I told her I’m from eFikile. That’s what people see. When I see eFikile I see my life. How everything I know revolves around a certain place to the point whereby my dreams sound like fairytales to those around us. My father never took me to school because he didn’t see the need for a girl child to go to school. Instead he married me off at fourteen years old to a guy named Themba Sithole. Don’t ask me where he is right now. He said on the 16 July 2014 that he’s going for a job interview in Rosebank but to this day he’s not back. I guess the interviews there take years to complete. Although he was a good for nothing husband, at least he left me with my babies (Ndalo, Sonini and Sanele). Since I didn’t go to school, I’m illiterate. That’s one thing that really saddens me. I remember every time I’d go to Bara Hospital, I’d have to ask everyone for directions because I couldn’t read. I remember even the nurses there would ridicule me, asking me if I could count to ten, which yes, obviously, being a maid I could do. How do these people think I use the washing machine, microwave, tv? Enough rambling, I need to go to work before the strike begins.
Just in time, 07:30. What is that sign outside? I quickly rushed to madam because last time I couldn’t read a sign madam threatened to fire me. “Madam, good day. What is that poster saying?” “Oh Noma, we are moving to the Philippines next Tuesday. I forgot to tell you.” “Madam, I cannot go with you. I cant leave my children.” “Oh… Noma, unfortunately you’ll have to find work someplace else.” I felt my heart sink, and my pulse increased drastically; I thought I’d collapse. How the hell will I pay for electricity? Or this DStv that Sonini cannot live without? Or for Ndalo’s trip next month? Winter is approaching. How will I buy them food, clothes… I immediately left. I couldn’t even serve my notice. I was mad. I worked for the Coetzees for fourteen years and even raised their daughter Annelise, but now they discarded me like a smoker throws away his cigarette when he’s done. I went to my room and started crying. Ndalo heard me and came. “Mama? Intoni?(what’s wrong?) “Nana, everything is okay. Don’t worry.” “Hayi mama (no mama), I can tell something is wrong. Speak to me.” “Ndalo, I lost my job.” I could tell that I just ruined his day. “Mama don’t worry, you’ll get another job. Oh…Mama, yesterday I saw a poster at the clinic; they want nurses. You remember telling me you always wanted to be nurse, but grandad laughed at said no. Mama, you can go back to school.” I immediately laughed at the thought of this forty-nine-year-old woman going to school, but knowing uNdalo and his stubbornness that I believe he inherited from his father, he’ll apply for me. I think that’s why Ndalo and I are so close. He’s my support structure.
Four days later, I see Ndalo jumping up and down, running towards me, saying I was accepted at an adult school in Johannesburg. For the first few days I was hesitant until I went to fetch Gogo Patricia’s medication at the clinic. I saw the other nurses, and I knew I had to go back to school. Luckily I got a bursary, considering the fact I’m poor and all. I started going to school and sold veggies by the taxi rank every after-school. I thank ubhuthi Sibusiso for the R3000 investment. I think he has a crush on me. When I told him I’m going to school again, he gave me a rather intimate hug that my neighbours saw in great judgment. Andiswa started gossiping about me going back to school, and I was a joke everywhere I went, but hey, I don’t care, right? My children helped me with my homework and for the first time I had hope. This continued for four years, and when I was about to do my last year, my bursary ended, so my schooling had to be put on hold. I became depressed and tried applying everywhere, but nothing. My neighbours found out and laughed at my situation. Sandile even said, and I quote, “school is for children, not grannies,” and everyone around her laughed. Even my children were ridiculed because of this at school. Ubhuthi Sibusiso gave me his savings of R67 876. I cried because he was the only outsider who supported me.
Today you are looking at Nurse Noma who works at Ahmed Kathrada Private Hospital. All that I went through led up to this moment. I didn’t move out of eFikile; instead, I created an organisation that helps the woman and man go back to school. Through everything, I managed to liberate others along the way, and I prove that it truly is possible. Supporting someone can seem like a small act, but it performs wonders. I even married ubhuthi Sibusiso and we are a beautiful family of nine children. Reading rewrote my world and made my dreams a reality. My name is Noma Sithole Dingane and I’m a qualified nurse at fifty-seven years old.