He came under my tutorage at a college in Benoni and, at our first meeting was extremely shy, hardly uttering a word.
His language, whether English or Zulu, was almost inaudible owing to his disability, which also affected his arms and legs.
However, I observed him with his peers and soon realised that he had a great sense of humour.
When I began working with him, which was not too long before his exams, he sat back in his chair and said: “Ma’am, I am useless”.
This made me even more determined to work with him and encourage him to paint and sketch as I knew he wanted to.
It was too late to bring him up to standard by the first exam, and I asked if I could walk around with the examiners, to learn how they graded the students.
When they came to this young man, they said: ”Oh! Sipho – give him 37 per cent, the poor chap”.
My hackles rose and I was more determined than ever to show Sipho that he was capable of doing better.
I sat with him and gave him a landscape to paint.
He shook his head and said it was impossible.
Then I brought him a 2cm dowel stick and told him to roll his arm on the dowel over the canvas as he painted from area to area.
This worked nicely and one could see the excitement in his eyes.
The next exam was soon upon us and by now Sipho and I had a good relationship. However, the same thing happened again, the examiners were about to pass him by when I spoke up.
I pointed out that he had greatly improved from the previous artwork, which I don’t think they remembered.
I pointed out that this young man had an excellent brain and that his artworks had a certain ontology when, if deconstructed, would make sense.
I also explained that if he could work in a circular order (meaning that he knew he was slow, but if he could work around the painting in a circular idea, so that when he had finished a small area on the top left, he would move to the right, do another area, move to the bottom right and then left and, when the above areas were dry he could safely work on them again in a larger circle, without smudging the previous painted areas), he would finish a very nice piece of art.
The next and final exam proved the point, he was awarded 67 per cent, his entrance to university.
I spoke to his father, who still had no faith in his abilities.
I told his father that he should not be held back because of his bodily dysfunction, that he had an excellent brain.
I offered to get him an interview at my son’s factory, which would help to raise funds for his university studies for the next six months — if he was accepted, of course.
On the day of the interview my son told me to leave his office, as he wanted to be alone with Sipho.
Half an hour later Sipho reappeared with a huge smile on his face.
He had been employed to help customers with various building materials, screws, glue, etc.
In no time he was well accepted and completely comfortable serving customers, although his speech was not always audible.
Customers began asking for him specifically to help them.
Then he disappeared during December and we did not know what had happened to him until January, this year, some four years later, when I received an email from him, telling me that he had achieved his graphic design degree through the University of Johannesburg.
Well done! And congratulations Sipho Comfort Zikalala!
