Article taken from True Love Magazine, November 2011 page 160
By Tokiso Molefe
Kedibone Maila lost her eyesight when she was 16 She tells Tokiso Molefe how she continued living.
It’s ironic that my name is Kedibone (I saw and experienced) when that’s the very thing taken away from me.
One Sunday in 2005 I remember waking up excited to greet the day. My father was a preacher and I loved helping him set up our church in KwaNdebele, in Mpumalanga. Watching people stream in, ready to receive the Holy Word, was my favourite. My last memory of that day was my father preaching. All I remember next was waking up in pitch darkness.
I was told I’d never see again and I no longer saw the point of living.
I was in Grade 11. One day my whole life lay ahead of me, with dreams of becoming Miss SA, and the next all hope was gone. And no one could explain it. For five days I lay in my room crying, opening and closing my eyes, even pinching them. I was desperate to see. My father thought I was insane because I wouldn’t stop crying. People wondered if I was cursed.
My parents didn’t rush to get me to hospital because they thought I’d be fine. I eventually went to three different hospitals before being told I had a brain tumour and needed surgery. Only then did the severe headaches over the past seven months begin to make sense.
The thought of having my head cut open by doctors really terrified me, but the doctors assured me and my family there was a good chance that my sight would return after the operation. A month later I was still in ICU and still unable to see.
Another operation followed to remove blood on my brain; I imagined the doctors wiping the blood off my blocked vessels and my vision returning. But still no sight. Finally, I was told I’d never see again and I no longer saw the point of living.
I left hospital in September and my dad enrolled me at the Filadelfia School for the disabled, in Pretoria. It was there that I learnt Braille, to help blind people read. I hated every day of my life and couldn’t understand this new language – I simply couldn’t accept that I was blind. But, somehow, I passed both my Grades 11 and 12 at the Filadelfia School.
During this time I did nothing to help myself. I would sit in my room, and if I needed to do anything, like walk to class, I’d wait for assistance. I hated being dependent on people but I was not motivated to live any other way – until I went to the South African Council of the Blind in 2009. Here my miracle occurred. I slowly began to regain my independence; I learnt how to cook, clean, walk independently and take taxis. My motivation also came from being around other blind people. I was not alone, or a freak.
It’s taken me three years to accept my fate, during which time I’ve done computer and call centre courses. Now that I’m empowered and my confidence is back, I want to rewrite my matric exams, and improve my maths results. I also plan to continue studying music at the South African State Theatre, in Pretoria, when I can sort out the necessary finances. I’ve had to adjust my dreams, but I’m not a victim anymore.
I miss seeing the stars and the moon, but I hold on to the memories of them. There was a time that I actually blamed my name, Kedibone, for my fate. But at least I can say I saw. Some people have never had sight in their lives.
I’ve finally accepted that life doesn’t always work out the way we plan it, but that is no reason to give up.