— Two people who grew up in the big cities of Gauteng, South Africa. Our paths crossed a few times during church events, but it wasn’t until many years later that our real journey together began.

In 1999, Norman’s dad decided it was time to return to his birthplace in the Western Cape, near Graafwater in the Cederberg. The move wasn’t just about coming home — it was also a chance for Norman to step away from the pressures of city life. Living with epilepsy in a fast-paced world had become too much.

The early days in the Cape weren’t easy. But during a visit to a local government hospital, Norman met a surgeon who suggested a life-changing solution: brain surgery. The procedure helped manage his epilepsy, and today it remains under control with medication. The trade-off? Short-term Memory loss brings its own set of daily challenges. Living with a brilliant mind and forgetful moments has shaped much of Norman’s path since then.

By the age of 40, Norman faced a hard truth: life wasn’t going to get easier on its own. He was still living with his parents in the small town of Graafwater, because he couldn’t live alone. Someone needed to be there to give him his medication regularly.

The brain surgery that helped his epilepsy had one lasting side effect — short-term memory loss. At first glance, it may not sound like the worst disability. But the reality was much heavier. For a strong, intelligent man, suddenly not remembering what he was busy with, misplacing things constantly, and no longer being able to do his work as an armature rewinder and electrician… it changed everything.

This condition is not just Norman’s daily challenge — it also affects the people who love him. Over time, even small, everyday things became an emotional struggle.

Still, Norman held onto hope. That’s when the idea took root: maybe it was time to settle down, to find a partner, and to build a life on the farm.

That decision changed everything. Just nine months later, we were married. Together, we packed up, moved to the farm, and began our new life — a life filled with challenges, yes, but also with unexpected blessings.

For me, Karin, the shift was overwhelming. I went from a busy working life in the city to a remote farm with no modern comforts. No easy access to family. No job. No running water in the taps at first.

The adjustment was hard and, at times, very lonely. Even though I had chosen this life, the reality of it hit quickly — and at the time Norman was still very sick. I went from sitting behind a desk all day to working full days in the fields, and my body didn’t take kindly to it. Many days ended in pure exhaustion.

On top of that, creating financial stability has been one of the hardest challenges to achieve. Building a life here hasn’t just been about surviving the heat, the water struggles, or the distance from town — it’s also been about finding ways to stand on our own feet.

Still, in the middle of it all, there was beauty. Slowly, I began to see the magic. As a hands-on, DIY-loving person, I leaned into farm life. I learned to cook on a coal stove, warm water in a donkey boiler, and get creative with ingredients when the gas fridge gave up in the heat. I started fixing, crafting, and celebrating each small miracle — from wildflowers in bloom to the quiet rhythm of rural days.

That’s how we ended up here — two city kids living off-grid in the Cederberg, tending Rooibos, and finding joy in the unexpected. If you’ve ever wondered how people trade city lights for starry skies, this is our version of that story.

👉 Want to know what daily life looks like? Read: Life at the End of the Gravel Road

We’d love to hear from you. Send us a message, drop a comment, or just say hi. Farm life can get a little lonely sometimes, and we’re always happy to connect with Rooibos tea lovers and kind souls.