I am sitting here in my office, and one of my in- service students just came in and said: ‘Wow Doc! I need to use up this opportunity! I want to know how you got where you got. It is rare to be in the company of someone like you’! Like her, I was 22 years old when I started my in service training and I know I had very good advisers. I told her that I need to make some coffee because my response will take more than 5 minutes. I need caffeine first!
My stay at the research institute turned out to be a blessing in so many ways. Many go there to earn a living and to take the bacon home. In my case, I ended up there to meet my father after so many years of absence from my life. I also went there to be shaped into a person that I am today.
I was able to complete my year of in service training to graduate with a National Diploma in Biotechnology. That was from July 2002 until July 2003. My contract was further renewed and I worked with different scientists within the Division. My father was a technician there because he never got to study past high school. Be that as it may, he trained scientists and he always delivered. I remember talking to one of the senior managers at the time that I wanted to study towards a Bachelors of Technology (B-Tech)degree in Biotechnology with Vaal Triangle Technikon, my Alma Mater. The B-Tech degree was just recently declared to be an equivalent of an Honors degree offered by traditional universities, by the then minister of Education, the late Prof. Kader Asmal. The research institute granted me the bursary to register and I was over the moon. I had made arrangements with my immediate line manager, Dr Caswell Hlongwane that I wanted to do my degree and he supported me fully. Caswell was one of the few black scientists that came to the Research Institute with a Doctoral Degree from abroad. He completed his Ph.D from a university in the United States of America. Then there was Dr. Blessed Okole, who received his Ph.D from Berlin. One other scientist, who later turned out to be my greatest mentor and adviser, was Dr Gatsha Mazithulela and he obtained his Doctoral Degree from the United Kingdom. These gentlemen brought about hope and transformation to the institute and those who heeded their advise, really turned out to be successful. I know I wanted to be like them but at that moment in time, it all seemed like a pipe dream.
I remember distinctively, the time that I found out that I was pregnant with my son, Vuyisile. It was in 2004! I disappointed so many people people, who were cheering me on. Especially MOTHER! I went to a very good school, she made sacrifices to give me and my brother a better life that she never had and now, here I was…!A technician who was on contract, with just a National Diploma qualification, living under my mother’s roof, my partner at that time was unemployed and I was pregnant out of wedlock! What a slap on the face.
My mother chose not to speak to me for a month, after I disclosed my status. In the morning, I would normally take my bath and make my own breakfast, which was not so healthy and nutritious. But, the morning after my disclosure, my mother prepared a well balanced breakfast, prepared a lunchbox for me and still did not speak to me. When I returned from work, she had filled up the fridge and the vegetable basket with fruit and vegetables. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes and how, irrespective of the disappointment, she continued to support me, really made me feel bad.
After a month, my mother decided to open up channels of communication. One Saturday morning she asked me to accompany her to a car dealership because she was ready to purchase a car. I test drove the car, a Toyota Corolla 1.3 liter engine. After a week, she asked me to accompany her to collect her car because she was too nervous to drive it back home. When we got home, she told me that ‘I bought this car for you. I am very disappointed that you took the route that is not desirable but, I do not want you to be using public transport while you are expecting a child’. My mother bought me my first car. What is so sobering is that she let me use the car, while she continued to commute with a taxi, to and from work. If that does not describe a mother’s love, nothing else will.
I used the car for pretty much everything. I gave birth by appointment so, I drove myself to the hospital to give birth by cesarean section. I certainly do not regret going the cesarean route because I hear horrific stories of how women go into labor for days days. My son was born on 08 February 2005 at 11.30 am at Pretoria East Hospital. I demanded to have my own private room because I really did not want to see people at the time. My weighed a whopping 3.97Kg and we named him Vuyisile Ditumisho. He was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my whole entire life and I did not want anybody to touch him. My mother came that same evening that he was born, to see her first grand child. She was overjoyed and she muttered ‘Welcome to reality. Life will never be the same again’. In the middle of the night when he started screeching, I now understood what my mother meant. I felt like putting him back to where he came from so I could sleep. Luckily for my son, he never gets to hear the occasional ‘I went into labor for 3 days to bring you to this world so, you better behave’ that his friends probably get. Lately however, I did once hear myself telling him that ‘Boy, get your act straight! Don’t disrespect me like that because I got CUT for your sake’. Now, that is legend!
I stayed in the Hospital with my newly born baby for 5 days and at the end of it all, I drove myself home with my Vuyi sleeping in his car seat peacefully. The pains from the surgery were not as overwhelming as I thought they would be. Maybe I was overcome with so much love and joy that I had brought such a perfect creature into this world. I remember when he was only 3 weeks old, accompanied by my previous partner, his father, I drove with him from Pretoria to the Vaal Triangle Technikon to register for the B-Tech Degree. This little man co-operated like a soldier. Little did I know that there would be many more educational adventures that were looming in the horizon, and he would be my partner in ‘Books’ for life.
After the 3 months were up, I returned back to work and my mother organized for a stay in maid to tend to Vuyi’s needs while we were at work. When I returned, Dr Okole told me that I would now be employed on a permanent basis. In 2006, I graduated with my degree while I was employed full time, and being a full time mother too. During that time, I worked with Dr Hlongwane and he introduced me to the field of Proteomics. Together, and with the help of a Post Doctoral Student, we set up the Proteomics Laboratory at the Research Institute. Today, the Proteomics platform is well established.
One day I was nursing my son and I asked myself that, should I die, what would become of him? What am I leaving behind for my son? Fine and well I have a degree but, that is just it. A Bachelors degree! I spoke to Dr. Mazithulela at work and communicated that I wanted to register for a Maters degree. It was very natural and easy to communicate our dreams and aspirations with these new black scientists because they genuinely wanted to see us grow in science. Prior to their arrival, I know I was once told that it was not necessary for me to obtain a Ph.D because not everyone can become a scientist. I was told that I can become the best technician there was and that in Germany, technicians are held at very high esteem. Well, this is South Africa and not Germany now isn’t it? I also remember stepping into Dr Mazithulela’s office with a job offer from another company where I would become a sales representative. The salary package looked very attractive and, I would have a company car. He looked at the offer and told me to decline the offer and to be patient. I doted on his advise and eventually, I declined the offer and stayed.
By 2006, a B-Tech Degree from the Technikon, now known as a University of Technology, was equivalent to an Honors degree offered by a traditional University. I now opted to apply for a Master of Science degree at some well known universities in the Gauteng Province. Unfortunately, I got discouraged and was boldly advised to go and register for a Master of Technology degree at the University of Technolgy where I obtained my degree. Clearly I was being snubbed. One university even suggested that the only way they could admit me into any of their programs, is if I re-register for some of the undergraduate courses first, register for an additional 2 years for my Honors Degree and when done, they would consider me for a Masters Degree. What they were essentially telling me was: ‘Put your life on hold’. They literally told me that the quality of education where I received my B-Tech, was not high enough to gain me entrance and get me registered with them and that I would not be able to cope with my studies there. I was hurt, demotivated and discouraged. Why are these people trying to stifle my progress and potential? I have a mouth to feed! It is no longer about me now. It is about my child and they are playing with fire! I then remember my mother’s words ‘You are going to meet challenges along the way and if you are going to feel sorry for yourself every time you meet them, you are going to lead a life of mediocrity’.
One evening while watching TV with my mom, a Talk Show came on. That evening, they were interviewing two ladies who had studied and obtained their Master Degree from the United Kingdom on a very Prestigious Scholarship and, they were urging South Africans to apply. At the end of the program, my mom told me without mincing her words ‘These days you have become complacent. If you do not apply for this one, then I know that you are a STUPID girl’. I tried to wrestle with her, convincing her that this scholarship is not for people like me. That there is nothing special about me. She did not buy into my excuses and declined my invitation to my pity party.
The following morning at work, I thought hard about what my mother had uttered to me. I browsed through the internet and went to the Scholarship’s website. I downloaded the application forms and kept them in the office until the last week, when closing date would be approaching. I filled them in, asked for references and then posted the forms.
I carried on with business as usual, until a call came in from a lady working for Delloite. I was being invited for an interview. One of many more interviews to come. From the onset, I knew I stood a very good chance. Never dangle an interview in front of me like a carrot. I know how to crunch carrots into a pulp and I do not give them a chance. On my way to the interview, I stopped at the Pharmacy in Pretoria and bought some calming medication. I was visibly nervous and a lady standing next to me asked me if I was OK. I told her that I would be attending an interview and she told me that ‘It is yours! Claim it. You have nothing to worry about’. I arrived in Johannesburg for an interview which lasted 15 minutes. The lady giving me an interview told me that she will not be wasting my time with more questions that she had prepared for me. She blatantly told me that I will most probably be going through to the next round but, I should wait for a call like all other successful applicants. She had been interviewing for the scholarship for the past ten years and she already knows a good candidate when she sees and hears one. I drove back home and told my mom: ‘I get the sense that I will go to the next rounds….the final rounds..and then end up in England’.
Indeed I was called for the assessments. We were given little scenarios to test our leadership skills and capabilities. I was very intimidated because there were very good candidates and some of them were celebrities. I had seen them on TV. I was just a technician living in Mamelodi with my son and my mother. Absolutely nothing special about me! This self doubt changed when I received a telephone call, that I have been selected to go to the final round of interviews. I would be facing a panel of at least 8 interviewers. There and then, the memories of my very first interview at Settlers Agricultural High School, when I was 12 years old, came rushing back into my head. It is going to happen again. But, I will be ready for them…..!
On the day of the interview, I arrived neatly dressed in my black suit, black shoes and a black and brown striped shirt. I went into the room to be met by a panel of about 7 interviewers. They introduced themselves one by one and finally gave me a chance to talk about myself. A question was asked about the most challenging incidence that I experienced in my life and how I had overcome it! Seriously? Did they just ask me that question? Where would I begin? I mean, I had lived with challenges all my life and had overcome most of them. Which one do I share with them? I then decided to speak about meeting my father for the first time. How I went there all by myself without any form of emotional support..and how, on many occasions, I would have to restrain myself from getting angry when I look at him, and how the tables eventually turned when my father came to my office, to ask for my signature so he can place an order for some reagents. I remember shedding a tear while I was relaying the story and everyone in the room gave a deep sigh of sadness. From then on, the rest of the interview went smooth.
I waited for a couple of weeks until I received a call from a gentleman that I had befriended during our assessment rounds for the scholarship. Mr Ben Matai. Ben called me to say that he had secured the scholarship and asked if I heard anything from the Scholarship granters. I hadn’t heard a word from them and I assumed that I did not make it. I told my mom about the call from Ben, and she just told me that, I had done my best and I should continue to look for something else. Two days later, Ben called me again and urged me to call the Scholarship granters back. Apparently they were looking for me and could not get hold of me. He even went to the lengths of giving me their numbers. I was at work when I placed the call. I said a little prayer and gathered the strength to dial their numbers. My heart was thumping! The lady told me that she had been looking for me for days and could not get through to me. I then waited for her to tell me that I did not get the scholarship when she suddenly said: ‘Congratulations Patricia. You are the last person to ever be told that you are now the recipient of the Nelson Mandela Scholarship’!!! WHAT?? ‘You are going to do your Masters Degree in the United Kingdom’…….. I…Me…Patricia!! I, who was denied entry into Universities in South Africa is going to get a Masters Degree from my University of choice in the United Kingdom…I, who was raised by my single mother, is going to do her proud…..I, who is a single mother, is going to change her baby’s life….I, who had been framed by my peers and lost an opportunity to get a bursary towards my National Diploma, has been granted one of the most prestigious scholarships in the land…, I, whose father neglected for so many years, is going to be associated with the father of all nations, Mandela…. I, who has been called weird by my peers, is going to give them a true meaning of being different…I, who used to hop from train station to train station will now be skipping from Airport to Airport! BUT wait…I, am going to receive my Scholarship certificate from Nelson Mandela himself….I,…..I am BLESSED! Psalm 23 verse 5!
I drove back home quietly and peacefully trying to internalized what I had just heard. My mom was sitting in the living room with my son and she saw that my eyes were red and swollen. I think she assumed that indeed I did not secure the scholarship. I sat next to her and in between my sobs I said ‘Mom, its like the heavens have just opened up with rains of blessings that are about to dry up my tears…Mamma, I am going to walk where queens walk! I am going England and I am going to meet Nelson Mandela’. My mother, my greatest fan hugged me and started making plans for me immediately. She told me that while I am away for my studies, she will take care of my son for me. My Vuyi was barely two years old but, if I am to offer him a good life later on and create better opportunities for him, this is one sacrifice I had to make. I have to leave him behind….and it would later prove to be painful and very challenging.
The following morning I gave a call Dr. Mazithulela, who was our Executive Director by then.I told him the good news and he asked me which school I would be going to and by then, I had identified a University already. He gave me a blank stare and said ‘No! You are going to Cambridge University’. Cambridge University? The number one University in the World? I could not even make it to one of the top 5 Universities in South Africa and He is telling me about Cambridge!! He gave me directions and advised me what to do and I…………………………
This is an excerpt from my Memoirs- ‘Diminished Impossibilities- Lessons form my mother’. The book will be published in due course
Diminished Impossibilities 