Remembering Nobahle Jacobs Basse
|Published
By Bulelwa Basse
National Women’s Day (Month) is upon us, once again – and as tradition requests of us, we remember the women who came before us – who held enough courage to change the South African landscape in a way which allows my generation to speak with the greatest conviction in the face of uncertain times.
Warriors of the legendary 1956 Women’s March invites us to not only reflect on the poignant past, but also to carve a narrative for ourselves which we can be proud of.
This is a time for a (somewhat) young South African woman, like me, to use my voice to entrench a narrative which elevates the integrity of women and which reminds history of how brave our lineage of ancestry is.
This is also a time in which I remember the profound story of my maternal grandmother, Nobahle Priscilla Jacobs-Basse, born in eMngqesha (The Great Place) in King William’s Town, Eastern Cape on 28 November 1923.
The sixths of seven children, Nobahle, (The One of Beauty) pursued her education at Blair Helen, and furthered her studies at Lovedale College, where she established herself as an educator, and returned to teach at Blaire Helen.
She then migrated with her parents to the Western Cape where she found employment as a teacher at St Cyprian’s Anglican School in Langa Township, which later became Zimasa Community School.
As a natural nurturer: She had been blessed with five children - of which the middle child, is my mother.
She then found employment with the City of Cape Town, as head of Gugulethu Creche at Native Yard (NY) 50, thereafter was transferred to the Langa Creche – closer to where she resided and where she worked until her senior years, where she retired in 1990.
“Mandlangisa” – her clan-name she was affectionately known by her community, Langa Township, lived a life of servitude beyond the ambit of City of Cape Town’s education and health sectors – respectively… enhancing the livelihood of many students who’ve been moulded by her abundant wisdom and knowledge.
Her children have, themselves, carried the baton of education as educators and medical practitoners – the only pride she’s ever held – second to finally getting a title deed to her Langa Township house – which became a place of plenty for many Langa Township residence.
My grandmother was the epitome of being in-community – it is how I relentlessly sharpened my instinct in community development and nation-building principles.
By a spark of serendipity: She reached the milestone of turning hundred years old – in the same year as Langa Township centenary.
When she quietly departed to be with her maker on the evening of 29 November 2023 – just a day after her marking her hundredth birthday, I was at peace… because I had the opportunity to make a vow to her: That her legacy of developing the human race and enhancing a culture of ubuntu, would never be forgotten… that it would be paid forward.
In 2024: I embarked on a journey to pursue studies at the College of Cape Town, for the purpose of expanding my entrepreneurial profile – and lo and behold! I discover the campus building at which I am studying was established the same year my grandmother was born – this, for me, became a form of spiritual affirmation – that, and the fact that during my time at college, I had encountered evidently yet unintentionally formed heart-shaped imprints on the campus’ staircase and cement floor, similar to the heart-shaped age-spot my grandmother had developed on her forehead.
Call me a sentimentalist, if you will: However, monumental moments of remembrance are exactly the reason why we are able to commemorate the very essence of women of the 1956 Women’s March.
The only difference, in this instance, is that my grandmother is the warrior whose memory I am privileged to honour.
I continue to be floored by her level of resilience…
She's not only stood the test of time, but is a true example of grace, relentless truth, unshakable love, and sheer selflessness.
Her book of life is forever written with light: She's mine... her grandchildren's heroine, her children's inspiration, her own life's compelling story of victory.
I'm beyond blessed to have her blood run through my veins and her spirit in my heart. She reigns in every psyche of my being.
And as fate has it, she's the best gift I have (still): My wealth in wisdom, my history lesson on love, my armour in art, my muse in music, my position of poise.
She knows me by the curl of my hair, the arch of my foot and the timbre of my heart's song...
God wrote her into my life – to always remind me that my grandmother is a legend.
A WOMAN'S JOURNEY
(Priceless is Her Worth: She is Woman)
The universe itches
at the soles of her resilient feet,
with its persistent requests
Step-by-step she treads tactfully
towards the accomplishment of each,
without a sigh in sound
Even when her shoulders emulate
the shape of her burdens,
the corners of her eyes
crease with a smile,
whenever she is greeted
by the innocence of her kind
Her arms, welcoming
Her intellect, provocative
Her tongue, gentles enraged hearts
And her beauty, silencing
Grown men break into infant tongues
in her presence,
clumsy over her supremacy
Many have competed
and all have self-ridiculed,
in a quest for her opulence,
yet priceless is her worth
Her love is nothing short of God:
She seeks connection
with every soul she meets
Found love, first,
before knowing who she was
In random tragedy
she learns hard lessons
Through loss of many sentimentals,
gains internal sharpening
Her eyes widen with awe
per universal orbit
And with life’s surprising schooling,
steps the world
with a little bit of wisdom
Her footprints unravel mystery
Her word speaks comprehension
And her exchange rives consciousness
Like stitches in assembly on a quilt,
every encounter is history recorded,
as she journeys with all the living’s aspirations
Dreams, their success
Mourns their loss
Cries their tears
And fights, for the feeble-minded one’s sanity
It is this essence of woman
that propels the world
to dreams fulfilled
Gives birth to characters of excellence,
cultured minds,
conquering attitudes,
and celebrated spirits
Because hers, has always been blessed
with the power of building
not only a home but also a nation
She is the perfect poem
Poetry lovers seek
She is woman – a victor, not a victim
Intsika yesizwe!
[Poem by: Bulelwa Basse, in honour of Nobahle Jacobs-Basse – Education Activist and Recipient of the City of Cape Town Long Service Award – Office of the Executive Mayor of Cape Town – Geordin Hill-Lewis]
Writer and Performance Poet, Bulelwa Basse, is the Director of Sisters In Solidarity South Africa and Founder of Lyrical Base Project.
Sunday Independent