Ndumiso Ngcobo’s little big man
My second born caught quite a significant growth spurt in the past three months. We’re talking at least 4cm. This coincided with a logarithmic increase in his appetite — or there could be a causal link between the two phenomena. In any case, I’m happy for him because he’s no longer the shortest among his peers. For years I worried that his classmates would start treating him as some kind of mascot and start tossing him around.
Humans are generally pretty obsessed with height. And my theory is that the two groups of people most preoccupied with height are belowaverage height folks and really tall people. At about 1.7m tall I’ve always considered myself a short man even though I’m assured that the average male height in South Africa is 1.69m.
I spent most of my teen years hoping, wishing and pleading with Saint Leopold Mandic to intercede on my behalf for the Lord to grant me an extra 10cm in height. I guess my faith was not strong enough because I stopped growing at age 15.
As a direct result of my meagre height, I grew up with an unhealthy preoccupation with people’s height. I was that guy perpetually measuring himself against schoolmates. I remember a violent debate that ensued when I measured myself against a fellow called Innocent and he was declared taller than me. Innocent was maybe 0.1cm shorter than me at the shoulder level – but his head was dome-shaped, you see. And my cranium is notoriously flat on top. Height is determined at shoulder level, I shrieked hysterically, otherwise all folks with heads the shape of blue freckled iguanas will be deemed taller.
As you can tell from this story, I had the highly developed emotional intelligence of Donald Trump proportions as a teenager.
It was only natural that I soon compiled a list of famous people’s heights. I could rattle off that Michael Jackson’s height was five-11 — the same height as Mike Tyson.
When Vumezitha, my second born, caught his recent growth spurt, I was so happy. I had to interrogate the source of my pride. It occurred to me that I want my kids to be tall. But why? I found myself wondering. Is there any advantage to being tall? Sure, if we lived in downtown Ulundi in the early 19th century, being at least six foot would increase my kids’ chances of being incorporated into the Izichwe regiment.
King Shaka kaSenzangakhona had a well-documented preference for tall warriors. And by all accounts he was a towering figure himself. In EA Ritter’s biography of Shaka, he describes him as well over six foot, quite impressive for that time. Populations the world over are growing progressively taller and being that tall in the 1820s would have been a sight to behold.
Scientists are all over like a drunk Irishman’s darts when it comes to an explanation for why humans have a preference for tall people. The most plausible is that it comes from a time when taller men naturally became the alpha males in any society. The tallest males in the world are the Dutch, with a whopping average height of 1.84m compared to the Americans, for instance, whose average height is almost 10cm shorter.
A study on the reasons for the tall Dutch revealed that this is as a result of taller men having 0.24 times more children than shorter ones. In short, women are mating more with tall men than the Napoleons. So maybe there’s rationale behind me wishing tallness in my offspring.
I spent part of last weekend on a farm between Newcastle and Danhauser where there was a fellow afflicted with dwarfism. Apparently very few men on neighbouring farms do not have scars inflicted by his knobkerrie, because he’s the butt of many a joke.
As someone who grew up being teased about my height, I don’t want that for my kids. I have a theory that rural people are taller than urban folks in this country. Just think Limpopo and the Zululand countryside. They make them big in those parts. Mrs N is convinced that when Wouter Basson was playing around with biological chemicals, he put something in the township water to stunt our growth. If anybody knows him, tell him that should we ever meet, I will clobber him over the head with a knobkerrie.
The most plausible explanation is that it comes from a time when taller men naturally became the alpha males in any society