At nearly 80, David Geyer’s life is a testament to resilience, innovation, and a relentless pursuit of knowledge. As one of the founders of Deafblind SA in 1996 and the first South African deafblind individual to attend the Helen Keller Centennial World Conference on Deafblindness in 1980, David has spent his life advocating for independence and inclusion for the deafblind community.
We sit in David and his wife Marina’s modest second-floor apartment in Brevis Home – a residential care facility for elderly persons with and without visual impairments – situated on the Innovation for the Blind premises in Worcester. The blinds are completely drawn to let the sunlight in. Although small, the apartment is adapted to accommodate the needs of a deafblind person, and one can immediately see that David is comfortable in this environment. Photographs of the couple on the mantelpiece in the small living room and on the wall tell stories about their wedding day on 17 March 1990 and a holiday on an MSC cruise ship. Says Marina, “I worked as a carer at Innovation for the Blind. One day I remember seeing this handsome man reading braille and I knew that I was in love.”
To help facilitate the interview through tactile signing, we are joined by Tannie Issie, David’s long time friend and the person who taught him how to work on a computer. We talk about David’s life and how he became deafblind, his love for technology and his eagerness to keep learning and lessons he’d like to pass on to future generations.
The day everything changed
Born in Brakpan on 10 January 1945, David and his family lived in Edenvale. Says David, “I had three brothers and a sister. I was the middle child. My father worked as a winding engine driver on the mines.”
“When I was seven years old, I started seeing double and complained to my father about it. At first, he thought I was talking nonsense. I then fell sick and had to go to Tambo Memorial Hospital where I was diagnosed with TB meningitis.” This life-threatening infectious disease causes inflammation of the layers that surround the brain and spinal cord.
That was in 1952. When David awoke in a private ward the next morning, he couldn’t see. David recalls, “When I came out of the hospital, I was very frustrated because I didn’t know what was going on. Later on, I became deaf but could still talk.”
A fire to succeed
Defeat was never an option for David. He was determined to attend school and learn to function independently despite his disability.
In the seven years that followed, David was unable to attend school. At age 14, his parents enrolled him in the Transoranje School for the Deaf in Pretoria, however the school could not accommodate him at the time. David’s enthusiasm for learning and the fire to succeed are traits that must’ve been modelled to him by his parents, as they too didn’t give up on their son.
With the help of Mr Vaughan, vice principal at School for the Blind in Worcester, his parents wrote to the government and asked for a special education department to be established at the school, now known as Pioneer School. He attended the school for seven years, and stayed until he turned 21 years old.
David reminisces, “I was the first deafblind pupil at Pioneer School, and there I learnt braille. Miss Katie van Rensburg, who used to teach at De la Bat School for many years, was my teacher. She was sent to the Perkins School for the Blind in America to observe communication methods for deafblind people.”
“When I became deafblind, there were no educational facilities for people like me. I am grateful to my parents and Mr Vaughan for going to such great lengths to get me into a school. Having an education was always my highest priority. To this day, the computer, braille displays and my cellphone remain the most impactful tools in my life.”
Says David, “I wanted to show people that a deafblind person could indeed be educated.”
A productive member of society
Being able to work and provide for himself has always been important to David.
“When I left Pioneer School, I began working on a press at my brother and uncle’s private firm in Primrose, where I stayed for nine years. Later, I also operated a power saw and a drilling machine.”
“Unfortunately, in 1974, the firm closed down, and I couldn’t find work near my family. I decided to apply for a position in the light engineering department at the Institute for the Blind (now known as Innovation for the Blind) in 1975. I worked on a lathe and manufactured studs, bolts and nuts. At one point, I drilled holes and made threads in drills for coal mines. I worked there for 43 years until I retired in 2018,” says David.
A whole new world
David and Marina stand up in the middle of their small living room to demonstrate the Tadoma method of lipreading. One of David’s heroes, the late Helen Keller, used this method frequently to communicate.
Tadoma is a communication technique for deafblind individuals that involves placing their hands on the speaker’s jaw, lower lip or neck to sense vibrations. Typically, the middle three fingers rest on the speaker’s cheeks, while the little finger detects vibrations from the speaker’s throat. This allows the deafblind person to feel both the movement of the lips and the vibrations of the vocal cords.
To illustrate David’s proficiency, Marina places David’s fingers on her throat and asks him if he is excited about today’s interview. “Yes, I’m very excited and happy to be here”, is his animated reply.
David elaborates, “When I was first enrolled at Pioneer School, I learnt the Tadoma method. There were very few people who could master the manual signs of sign language. I think there are now only 50 deafblind people in the world that can still do the Tadoma method.”
Tannie Issie explains that David is still upset that this method is not used anymore. “Up until before Covid, this used to be David’s preferred method of communication as it was convenient and fast. He “spoke” the language fluently. However, when Covid hit, people didn’t feel comfortable practising this method anymore due to the level of physical touch it involves.”
Inspired by success
The conversation drifts towards challenges that David, and deafblind people in general, face. He says, “ I get cross when people show me that they are sorry for me. Most deafblind hate pity.”
“I like people that greet me and recognise me. I prefer to be treated like a real, ordinary person. I am deafblind, not stupid.”
With the help of Sharon Goosen, an Orientation and Mobility Practitioner at Innovation for the Blind, David received long cane training to help him move about safely in both familiar and unfamiliar areas. Says David, “I love being independent. I used to be able to cross a street with a robot buzzer and go to Pick ‘n Pay. With my white cane, I could walk alone around the corner, but now, as I grow older, I can’t do it anymore.”
Technology as a bridge to inclusion
While holding David’s hand as a signal that the conversation with him is on pause, Tannie Issie explains that feeling included in society and having a voice is very important for any deafblind person. She says, “Even though the person cannot see or hear you, they are still a human being worthy of attention and love. They still have goals they want to achieve and a life they want to enjoy as fully as possible. I’ve found that, with assistive technology, such as braille displays, screen readers and specialised communication devices, the inclusion that deafblind people seek is entirely possible.”
David learnt how to work on a computer in 2005 and in 2018, he began using a cellphone. He says, “Technology is wonderful, and it makes life so much easier for me. Using a computer and braille device to email means I don’t have to rely on others to make phone calls for me. Now, with my cellphone and braille device, I can communicate on WhatsApp, watch rugby, stay in contact with friends and family on Facebook, read about SA rugby, and follow the news.”
Technology also helps satisfy David’s hunger for learning about new things and staying up to date with what’s happening in the world. “I can also search on Google. I look up information about planets, read books, and even check the weather. I have a lot of books on my laptop that I can take with me wherever I go, as braille books are much larger than a laptop. I also play chess on my laptop.”
“I am proud to be more independent now and no longer need to ask others for help with my phone. I’m grateful for the donations that allowed me to get a laptop and a Focus braille display. I’ve written about my life history and would love for it to be published as a book.”
‘I will never give up hope’
“When I gave lectures on behalf of Innovation for the Blind at schools, I talked to children about technology devices. I told them not to be afraid or lose hope if they become blind or deafblind, because technology is incredible and can help them, even without a disability.”
“Life has been such a learning journey for me,” says David. “Some lessons I’d like to pass on to younger generations are: value your independence and language, stay fit and keep on learning.”
“There is still so much I’m learning on the computer and cellphone as new information becomes available. As a next step towards independence, I’d like to learn to order food from Checkers online.”
“I never worry about what will happen as I get older. Helen Keller was very active and passed away peacefully in her sleep at the age of 88. She is an inspiration to me. I am almost 80, and I will never give up hope.”
