The Crowing Rooster

By Nomaza Malamlela Mei

Nomaza Mei is an ambitious, brave, strong South African woman who survived a childhood illness thanks to a dedicated team of outreach nurses in the 1970s. However, her illness left her with severe hearing loss and The Crowing Rooster is the true story of her journey from early childhood just before she fell sick on a remote family farm through the challenges and achievements she has encountered living with a hearing defect.
Despite being humiliated and discriminated against, she has studied to become a healthcare professional who has saved countless lives, especially children. Her inspirational story is a must-have for any bookshelf as an educational guide into the world of those with a hearing loss.
Globally, it is a common issue and people's lives are surrounded by others who are hearing-challenged; be they within their families, schools or workplaces. The Crowing Rooster touches on some possible causes for hearing loss, possible preventions and better communication skills for both the person with the hearing challenge and those interacting with him or her.
Nomaza has narrated these in a way that makes it easy for everyone to understand, correlating them with her personal experiences and encounters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nomaza Mei
• Release date: Jun 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223832119

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Copyright © 2023 Nomaza Malamlela Mei

First edition 2023

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the copyright holder.

The Author has made every effort to trace and acknowledge sources/resources/individuals. In the event that any images/information have been incorrectly attributed or credited, the Author will be pleased to rectify these omissions at the earliest opportunity.

Published by Nomaza Malamlela Mei using Reach Publishers’ services,

P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631

Edited by Keaobaka Morwe for Reach Publishers

Cover designed by Reach Publishers

Website: www.reachpublishers.org

E-mail: [e-mail]

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Nomaza Malamlela Mei

[e-mail]

Preface

This book is an inspirational and educational memoir of myself as a South African woman who has survived a childhood illness that I suffered from while I was living in a remote area with poor access to healthcare in the 70s. I was left with severe hearing loss because of a complication.

I later got a hearing aid through the help of social workers as I grew up in a socio-economically disadvantaged background. The hearing aid helped me to use the residual hearing to the maximum potential and that enabled me to study and become an influential healthcare professional.

The challenges and some of the discrimination I experienced, as well as the increasing number of people that lose hearing for different reasons, including illnesses, inspired me to write this book. I want to play a role in motivating the public including corporate businesses to be communication friendly with people who are having a hearing deficit or who are unable to hear. We must not be worried whether we would be able to hear when we visit those areas for services, as long as we will let the next person be aware of our problem. The book is for both who have a hearing deficit and those with normal hearing. It also has advice on how to communicate better with hearing-challenged people and how they can improve their hearing.

Another purpose of this book is to create hearing loss awareness, thus helping in the identification of those people who live with hearing loss and are not getting help to improve their situation, especially children. Most children who lost their hearing while still very young have undeveloped speech that can be improved by using hearing aids because they do make a difference in hearing. Identifying those children will help them go to school and develop themselves to their maximum potential. Improved hearing for both adults and children reduces stress and provides a better life and better socialisation. I wish that hearing loss can be prevented as hearing is one of the most valuable senses ever. This book also has some points on how to prevent hearing loss though it’s impossible to completely prevent it.

I was once told that I couldn’t manage what I am today but my desire for success was the inner drive that helped me to ignore all negative comments and strive for excellence. My wish is for this book to reach the masses so that it can also change the attitude of people towards individuals with hearing deficits. The book is also for families living with hearing-impaired people, especially children, to help them know the first steps they can take to help hearing-impaired people further their education and a secure working life.

The Indigenous Life

Starting to write this book takes my mind back to my early childhood memories beginning from the time when I realised, I was a human being in this world. Including the indigenous kind of life that we lived will make the bittersweet story complete. I have vivid memories of myself, my elder brother, my sister, and my mom at my father’s workplace in Idutywa, a small town in the Eastern Cape which was Transkei by that time. It was in the mid-70s, and my father worked at a railway station. I remember that we used to sing for my sister who was learning to walk at the time "abantwanana bayacathula bayabambelela abafun’ukuwa" (the baby is learning to walk with support, she doesn’t want to fall).

I don’t remember the mode of transport we used for going there but it is much likely to be a train because it was the most common means of transport. We once travelled to town in Idutywa from the house where my father was accommodated by car with my father’s friends and my older brother, but it was not a nice trip for me as I cried the whole way back saying it’s not our initial route. To my young mind I thought we were getting lost. There were trees on either side of the road and as the car was passing, I was convinced the trees were moving fast. It dawned when I grew up that it was a two-way road. We didn’t stay for long there because it was just a visit to my father’s workplace.

From there my memory takes me to Rooiport farm, in the northern part of Umzimkhulu where I lived up to early 1978. It is our ancestral grandfather’s farm that had about 20 houses at that time. The houses were sparse, some not even visible because of the expanse of trees. A river, also our water source, separated the houses on our side. We were all related in that place. Disciplining children was every adult’s responsibility. I remember my brother once got a hiding from one of our uncles for trying to cross an overflowing river after rainy days. Poor him, he couldn’t even tell my mother that he got a good hiding until she saw him walking in pain and asked what happened. I guess he feared the possibility of being disciplined again for putting his life at risk. These days no one will ever dare beat someone else’s child, it’s illegal to do so.

Life there was not easy and was more like one lived in ancient times. There were no cars, and no shops, mostly lived on food grown in the fields, and the meat was eaten occasionally mostly from slaughtered chickens. We ate wild berries in their season, apples, and plums from some of the houses on the other side of the river. We also ate amakhowa (wild mushrooms that come after a thunderstorm) in summer, and they tasted so delicious like meat when fried. Our little brothers used to catch mice from the fields in winter using imitsala (sharpened wires) and onoxhaka (mouse traps) and we roasted them on fire or fried them if we were lucky to be given oil. This shows we mostly ate organic natural food.

Cow’s milk was shared amongst the families, and we would get amasi (sour milk) when there was enough, and it was a favourite meal for most of us. For groceries, people walked on foot to the Indawana location about 20 kilometres away. Getting transport was also not easy as it was scarce. People used a bus that was called Pullman and they had to travel a long distance on foot to catch it at Kingscote. There was no crime at all during those days because we used to go ask for milk from other houses very far from ours. It was safe to even go alone as a seven-year-old girl regardless that most of the place had forests. Our parents didn’t have to be too worried about our safety. That was priceless when compared to the current crime rate that keeps us always checking and praying for our children.

We used wood from wattle trees to make fire for cooking, for warmth and to get coal for ironing clothes as well as for baking, using a steel baking pot. I guess some of us had never seen electricity by then. The same wattle trees produced a very nice exudate on their trunks called intlaka (gum) and I used to enjoy it, my favourite natural snack. We loved playing in the forest so that we could collect gum. Some of it was sour and some sweet. The way I loved it, I can even taste it in my mouth right now.

A few houses had primus stoves that used paraffin, the paraffin was also used in lamps for light. These were not modern lamps with glass, but they were made of something like a tin with a small lid that had a rope or piece of cloth protruding on it, a prolonged use of it caused our nostrils to be black from inhaling its smoke. Regardless, life was simple, and the cost of living was very low. If there was a member of the family who was employed somewhere and sending money home by registered post to put food on the table everything was considered perfect. The recipient of the money would receive a receipt to sign and bring it along together with the identity book to the post office to collect the registered post. This meant a person had to travel to Swartberg where the post office was located.

Inflation was also at its lowest compared to the current one. We used to buy several items with a half-cent coin. If there are people who had started to invest, then I guess they are reaping the rewards. My home at that time was a single huge, thatched rondavel that was used as a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, everything. We always kept it clean, and the floor was smeared with cow’s dung now and then, we enjoyed doing that.

We did most of our cooking on a circle on the floor called iziko (shallow circle hole in the centre of the floor used for making fire), using fire and black three-legged pots made of steel. We occasionally used a primus stove during the day when we had some paraffin available, for boiling water for tea or warming leftovers. We had so much fun playing under a huge, beautiful tree and had no worries as children as we knew no better life than that one. Most forms of entertainment were from nature, for example in spring we used to imitate the sound of a bird that was called phezukomkhono (over the shoulder) with words said in the same rhythm. It went like this "phezukomkhono chith’imbewu, phezukomkhono chith’imbewu" (over the shoulder throw the seed, over the shoulder throw the seed). This was regarded as a sign that it was time to plant in the fields.

The wattle trees would be having yellow flowers that gave out a sweet smell, especially in the morning. It’s a sweet memory. We would also rhyme along to a dove’s sound as some form of entertainment. The doves flying by were also regarded as a symbol of good luck or bad luck depending on how many were flying at the same time. When two doves passed by, we said, two for joy and believe it meant luck to the person who saw them first, the sight of only one dove meant bad luck and we used to say, one for sorry. I don’t know who taught us that, but it was something we said perfectly in English and believed it. Life was naturally beautiful in that place.

We fetched water from a large river with buckets and did our washing in the same river. I don’t know how people avoided drinking polluted water because besides washing dirty laundry by the river, and children were using an open stoney space to relieve themselves as the pit latrines were unsafe. Some houses had no toilets at all. We will then use stones or grass instead of toilet paper to wipe ourselves when done.