Development Education Lifestyle Opinions Social

To the women that have shaped my life

Jabulani Jonathan Mhlanga
Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

By Jabulani Jonathan Mhlanga

 

I am not a woman myself, but women have shaped so much of my learning. From the earliest years of my education, the best teachers I have had were women, and they have left an indelible mark on my development.

 

The first and most important teacher I had was my mother. It was her who first taught me how to decipher the squiggles that are letters and words, and she helped me navigate the treacherous quagmire that is English grammar.

 

Books were plentiful in our house, from my father’s collection on history and politics to the textbooks my mother used for her chemistry degree. I found myself gravitating towards my mother’s books. Inside them were even more esoteric squiggles, undecipherable words, and drawings of apparatus that I knew I had to understand.

 

My mother encouraged this curiosity, explaining scientific concepts to me at a level my developing mind could understand and buying more books that were at my level.

 

The foundation of my formal education also came mostly at the hands of women. The female teachers at my preschool and primary school gave me a nurturing hand, building a sturdy base on which I could build all of my future knowledge and skills.

 

It was in high school that I discovered a passion for writing, and again, every single one of my English language teachers was a woman. The women first recognised the talent that I had and challenged me to improve and take on extracurricular projects that would improve my skill, such as creative writing and public speaking. As a result, despite my scientific leanings, English language, literature, and creative writing were the exams I always scored the highest marks in.

 

When I left Zimbabwe to study, I first thought that aeronautical engineering would be a good fit for me. I was pleasantly surprised to find the institution I studied at had a large proportion of female faculty in the engineering and applied sciences departments. However, I found myself dissatisfied as well as disoriented by the loud, colourful environment that is India. Soon after arriving, I succumbed to the depression that has followed me for most of my adolescent and adult life.

 

It was a lecturer who taught engineering physics who convinced me that I needed a change – not with direct words, but with her deep yet easy to decipher understanding of the subject. Time was short – it’s impossible to learn everything about the science that underpins reality itself in just one semester. Yet somehow, she taught with a kind but ruthless efficiency that re-lit the fires of wonder in my mind and convinced me that I needed to understand the universe on a deeper, more fundamental level than I could in engineering.

 

 

At the end of my first year, I decided to switch streams to physics, meaning I had to transfer to the applied sciences institute of my university. While the men in the faculty were great, I have once again found that the females in the faculty have a particular insight into the needs of each individual student and they make the effort to meet them. In addition, they have shown me insights into how the universe works that are unique and intuitive. If it were not for them, I don’t believe I would have successfully completed my degree.

 

So to all the women who have shaped my education, from my mother Nomusa Mhlanga, to my Grade 1 teacher, Mrs. G. Moyo, to my Grade 7 teacher, Mrs. Madubeko, to my high school English teachers Mrs. Mashingayidze and Mrs. Ncube at Masiyephambili College, and Ms. Mafu and Ms. Williams in Botswana, to my lecturers in my more recent tertiary education, particularly Madams Sharmin and Shivani, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

 

Jabulani Mhlanga is studying towards a master’ Degree in Physics in India. He was educated in Zimbabwe and Botswana and is a prolific writer with an interest in solar energy and aeronautics.

 

About the author

Byron Adonis Mutingwende