Dr Nokuthula Shah

Dr Nokuthula Buthelezi, based in Nongoma, KwaZulu-Natal, has built a life rich with experience and deep roots in her culture. At 47, she is a mother to two boys, aged 24 and 17, and a dedicated educator. Her passion for education is evident in Lacee’s Special School, the school she runs, which caters for learners from Grade R through to Grade 10. “It’s a place where children who are often overlooked by the mainstream system can find a space where they are understood and supported,” she explains.

Nokuthula’s journey in education was influenced by her parents who were both teachers. She recalls, “I grew up with teaching in my blood. When I was in Grade 12 back in 1992, my father gave me his teaching collar as a gift. I didn’t understand its significance at first and even questioned where I would wear it.” At that time, Nokuthula had dreams of becoming a nurse, but she came to realise that her father’s gesture was a sign of encouragement and belief in her potential as a teacher.

Her educational path was not a linear one; Nokuthula went on to earn her Junior Primary Teachers’ Diploma, followed by advanced studies in special needs education and a partial Honours degree from North- West University. She later completed her PhD in education, along with a qualification in philosophy from Africa University. “My father always encouraged me to push further,” she says, recounting how he once told her that despite her achievements, she still had more to learn and accomplish.

Connection To Heritage
Nokuthula’s upbringing was rooted in Zulu culture, which has shaped her worldview and educational philosophy. Growing up in a family of boys, she felt a connection to her heritage and found comfort in wearing traditional Zulu beads and embracing cultural practices.

Her father also had an influence on her appreciation for music. “He was strict, but he loved playing Lucky Dube, Peter Tosh, and Amabutho on those big LP records. When I listened to those songs, I felt at ease,” Nokuthula recalls. This love for reggae music eventually led her to adopt the Rastafarian lifestyle. The decision wasn’t met with resistance at home; instead, her family accepted her choice. “One day, my father said, ‘Now we have a Rasta in the family.’ That moment made me feel acknowledged for who I was.”

Being a Rastafarian has been a source of strength for Nokuthula that connects her to her African roots. “I find that teaching the little ones about their roots and where they come from is essential,” she explains. “In my classroom, the children know me as ‘Teacher Rasta.’ It’s not just a label; it’s a way of reminding them to embrace their culture and identity.”

Nokuthula has always been vocal about the shortcomings in the South African education system, particularly when it comes to children with special needs. She argues that the system often fails these learners by not providing a curriculum that caters to their abilities from an early age. “Imagine a child who learns in their home language, Zulu, from Grade R up to Grade 3, only to be introduced to English as the main language of instruction in Grade 4,” she points out. “It’s like throwing them into a new world where everything is unfamiliar. This is where we see more children being labelled as ‘special needs’ when, in fact, the system has failed to support their transition.”

“Starting these subjects from Grade R and building up in stages would create a more inclusive and supportive learning environment,” she says. Nokuthula is determined to see these changes come to life. “I want to ensure that we create a curriculum that reflects our African heritage and caters to the needs of our children. It’s not just about changing the syllabus; it’s about changing mindsets.”

Her school, which has faced numerous challenges over the years, serves as a testament to her dedication. There have been times when financial difficulties and even theft threatened to close the school. “We had break-ins where they took computers, generators, and even doors,” she shares. “It was a tough period, but through the support of my family, we managed to rebuild and keep the school open.” Nokuthula’s father played a crucial role in helping her move forward. “He taught me to forgive those who had wronged us, and I even reemployed some of the same people who stole from us. It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary for the community’s sake.”

Making Strides
Despite these setbacks, Nokuthula has made strides in supporting learners and their families. Through partner- ships with organisations like SANCA, which assists with rehabilitation programmes for children struggling with substance abuse, she has been able to create a support system for her students. “The aim is to not just educate these children but to help them overcome all the barriers that stand in their way,” she explains.

Nokuthula has ambitious plans for the future. She aims to establish an online platform for special needs education, providing a space where parents, teachers, and learners can interact and share resources. “Our children are already familiar with technology, and we need to use that to our advantage,” she says. Additionally, she hopes to open a third specialised school to further extend her reach and support more children in need.

To young women aspiring to make a difference, Nokuthula’s advice is clear: “Follow your dreams, network, and work closely with your community. Never forget that you have a family and a life beyond your professional ambitions. And most importantly, have passion for what you do. If you lose sight of that, you lose sight of yourself.”

Whether she is knitting, writing, or listening to reggae music, Nokuthula finds joy in the simplest things. “When I need to relax, I put on my reggae music and just let myself be,” she says. “It’s my way of connecting to my roots and finding peace amidst the chaos.”