Dedicated to Aunty Nooriah, for her selflessness

Although deaf and half paralysed, my aunty has remained optimistic, worked hard and never given up on the will to fight for her life.

COMMENT

I visited my aunt a few days ago. She looked different – her hair had thinned considerably and she was more frail than ever before. As I hugged and kissed her, I was overwhelmed by a sense of comfort – she still smelled like I had always remembered.

Born deaf, mom and dad welcomed my aunt into our home during her teenage years to ease my grandparent’s burden – with two disabled children and five others to take care of, grandpa and grandma were struggling.

My aunt became my nanny. At five, apart from learning my alphabets and numbers at St Mary’s Kindergarten in Butterworth, I also learned sign language. My aunt had her own version and it was nothing like what one would learn at school – my grandpa did not have the means to send both his deaf children to special schools. So they created their own form of communication and soon, the whole family picked it up too.

It’s rather funny but the sign language my aunt used was mostly common sense. For example, she would point to her teeth to describe the colour white and rub her wrist to describe black; to describe heat, she fanned herself and for cold, she pretended to shiver. But the best part was how she described family members – as a young girl, I was rather chubby, so my aunt would puff out her cheeks to describe me. My brother had a tendency to pick his nose, so my aunt made the gesture of drilling her nose when referring to him.

As my nanny, my aunt and I became very close. Of course, there were times when she irritated me with her constant nagging (she would make loud noises to show anger) like when I forgot to wash the dishes and make my bed. But I adored her for all the little things she did – brushing my hair, squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush every morning, waving goodbye when I left for kindergarten and making me hot Milo when we watched cartoons together.

When I was in my teens, my aunt returned to her own home – my grandma had passed away and grandpa was battling chronic diabetes. With most of her siblings having moved out after marriage, I suppose she wanted to be with her father. However, though she was happy at home, my aunt began feeling lonely.

With grandpa’s consent, for the first time in her life, my aunt began working. She was in her early 30s. Cleaning shrimp and fish for import, many looked down at her job in Barkath Marine Store in Georgetown, but my aunt took her job very seriously. Her diligence made her very popular at her workplace – so popular that when she took part in the company’s annual dinner contests, she always bagged the first prize.

Being able to care for her father and prove her capability at her workplace, my aunt’s confidence grew by the day. With her hard-earned money, she began taking better care of herself – you see, my aunt was really a pretty woman despite her simplicity and with better care, she blossomed into a real beauty.

It did not take long for my gorgeous aunt to be noticed by her Prince Charming. Being in love for the first time, she was on cloud nine when he reciprocated her feelings – he even made the effort to learn her special sign language so he could communicate with her. I was the first person she shared the news with. I remember the happiness on her face as she showed me the photograph of the man who stole her heart – she was in disbelief that this young man could love a disabled older person like herself.

Sadly, my grandpa was not happy with the relationship and did not give his blessings. At 35, grandpa thought she was too old for the 24-year old man she had fallen in love with. My aunt was heartbroken. However, as a sign of respect, she gave in to her father. I could only imagine how difficult it must have been for her to go to work every day and meet the love of her life, only to give him up for her dear father.

A year later, my grandpa passed away and my aunt was left all alone. Everyone else in the family was busy with their own lives – my parents were busy with my cousin whom they had also taken in and I was busy with my SPM. Watching her siblings with their husbands and children was painful. She too yearned for a family of her own.

My aunt finally took a bold move and accepted her sweetheart’s proposal. While she planned her simple wedding, her fiancé converted to Islam – he wanted to take care of her, after all the years she had spent caring for others.

After a few years, my aunt, now 40, received shocking news – she was to become a mom. She was ecstatic as she never dreamt of enjoying motherhood in this lifetime. Oh, what a joy it was for her throughout those nine months carrying her pride and joy.

Fifteen years later however, my aunt fell ill and lost her ability to walk. Not too long after, the right side of her body became paralysed. She could no longer cook, clean, fetch her boy from school, visit siblings or do her grocery shopping. She could not even change her clothes or go to the loo alone. Her world turned upside down and she became totally dependent on others.

But my aunt was not done living. She was not ready to give up on life. She knew God would only test those who had the strength and courage to fight their way out of His tests.

She goes for physiotherapy every day but although she has not improved much, she keeps trying. Her husband has supported her in every way possible – he modified their home to accommodate her condition, bought a water bed so she is more comfortable and even hired a caretaker and masseuse in the hope she will get better soon.

When I visited my aunt recently, I found her to be her usual bubbly self. We watched TV, browsed old photos and had a good chat about old times. But despite her smile, I knew she was suffering in silence – I had just heard that her beloved husband had taken a second wife.

Not able to shoulder all the responsibilities alone, his second wife now cares for my aunt. I asked if she was sure of her decision to share her husband with another woman and she replied that she had no choice.

My aunt did not want to be a burden, not anymore. She understood that her young husband had needs she was unable to fulfil. Such was her love for him.

As I left my aunt’s home, I decided I would not pity her. I chose instead to admire her. My aunt may be deaf and half paralysed but she has such strength and is truly a fighter.

In conjunction with International Women’s Day, let us remember all the women in our lives who have refused to be confined by the walls built by the circumstances they have found themselves in. Let us share their stories as a source of inspiration and empowerment to everyone around us.

To my darling Aunty Nooriah, you taught me a valuable lesson – that our struggles are what makes us strong. And I will cherish that life lesson forever, as much as I cherish you.

Fa Abdul is an FMT columnist.