In a world that often underestimates the ability of people living with disability to build lasting relationships, Abasi Lumu and Fatuma Nakalyowa are proving that love knows no boundaries. The hearing-impaired couple from Mawonve in Mpigi district has shared 47 years of marriage, a journey of love, patience, and understanding that defies common misconceptions about disability.
Their story, alongside a similar couple in the area celebrating 14 years of marriage, sheds light on how communication — whether verbal or not — can sustain the deepest of connections.
Lumu, 75, and Nakalyowa, 63, are a familiar presence in their community, known for their warmth and the quiet joy they share. In Mpigi and the surrounding areas, they are affectionately referred to as the “hearing-impaired couple.”
But despite their silence, their relationship speaks volumes. Their day begins with prayers, a daily ritual where they thank Allah for another day of life together.
And while they cannot hear each other’s words, they don’t need to.
“Love doesn’t always need to be said,” Lumu gestures, his hands moving fluidly in sign language through the assistance of their granddaughter, Agnes Nakku.
“You can feel a smile, a warmth in the air when someone is happy. And I feel that from her. I know she loves me.” For Nakalyowa, the sentiment is mutual: “I can feel that Lumu loves me,” she says, her hands tracing the words in the air.
The couple who communicate primarily through sign language, share a bond that transcends spoken words. Their three children, all hearing, grew up in a household where silence was the norm. Despite this, the children thrived, leading successful lives and staying close to their parents.
Lumu’s brother, Shabibu Kitavujja, offers a glimpse into the early years of his sibling’s life.
“Lumu was born hearing, but after a fever at the age of four, he lost his ability to speak. He has had hearing loss ever since, but he does not let that stop him,”
Kitavujja recalls. “Lumu has always been a hard worker. He was a mechanic at a petrol station in Mpigi for over 30 years, and now, he is the go-to person for tyre repairs.” Lumu’s work as a mechanic has been a source of livelihood for the family. He does not receive a fixed salary; instead, he earns money based on the number of tyres he repairs each day. Some days are busier than others, but it is enough to provide for his family and continue his work with dignity.
Nakku, who lives nearby, speaks fondly of her grandparents’ relationship. “They are a happy couple. They welcome everyone into their home, and they love to share their story,” she says. “Grandma always says relationships aren’t always easy. But even if given the choice, they would still choose each other. They wouldn’t trade their love for anything.”
The 47-year journey
The photographs of their wedding day, their children, and the friends who have walked with them, speak volumes about a life built on faith, patience, and enduring love.
Their granddaughter, Nakku, who has been an essential bridge in their communication, helped explain the essence of their story.
Through her, they recount a life blessed by Allah with five children, though two have since passed on.
“The children still with us,” Nakalyowa signs, “are Kim Bbosa, Shalif Kulumba, and Sophie Nabbosa Nalongo.”
Before marrying Lumu, Nakalyowa had a daughter, Catherine Nabyonga, whom she raised as a Catholic. Her first husband was not deaf, and she recalls the difficulty of living with someone who could not understand her. “It was hard,” she says, “but I never gave up on love.” Lumu, too, had a child from a previous relationship, but their union formed the foundation of a life that would last for nearly five decades.
Nakalyowa recounts how she met Lumu through her sister, who introduced them after meeting him.
It did not take long before they both felt an undeniable connection.
Lumu who had travelled with a group of people, arrived at Nakalyowa’s home bearing gifts, including a Gomesi and omusalo, traditional attire that her parents appreciated. She remembers vividly the first words he spoke to them: “I am a mechanic,” he told them with pride. Nakalyowa was impressed, seeing something special in him despite their shared challenges.
As the days passed, her sister helped convince her parents that this was no ordinary relationship.
The formal introduction ceremony took place at Nakalyowa’s home in Kibibi, Butambala district.
Lumu recalls the day fondly, saying: “We did everything as our religion permits.” Their union was formalised in a Muslim ceremony on October 30, 1977, with a reception later in Mpigi town.
They both hold dear the memories of their wedding day, a photo of which now hangs proudly in their sitting room.
“I told my people that it was really our hearts that brought us together,” Lumu reminisces, adding with a smile, “I was very happy when we got married. I did not want to be alone.”
“I want you to be with me forever,” Nakalyowa recalls Lumu saying to her on their wedding day. “Be patient with me, and make me the happiest person because you are with me.” Since that moment, she never once thought of returning to her parents’ home in Butambala.
“I never carried my belongings back,” she signs, her expression warm with affection. “My in-laws love me, and I love them too.”
The couple’s commitment to one another has been unwavering. “My mother told me not to marry anyone else,” Nakalyowa smiles, remembering her parents’ concern. “They feared someone might cheat on me, but they could see that Lumu was different.” Lumu, in turn, recalls how his father, Lukooto, had given them a piece of land where they built their first house.
“We lived in that house until our daughter Nabbosa Nalongo, who works in the markets, built us a new one,” Lumu says. The new four-bedroom house is still incomplete, but it stands as a testament to their children’s love and support. Even now, as they approach their golden years, Lumu proudly states: “I know everything about her. We are getting old together.” Now, nearly 47 years later, their love remains steadfast. The couple is grateful for the life they have built together, and even though many of their relatives are amazed by their enduring bond, Lumu and Nakalyowa simply smile and hold hands, content in the quiet joy of knowing they were meant for one another. “Allah has blessed us with 15 grandchildren,” Nakalyowa signs. “All of them are speaking now. I am happy because I am with my husband.” And, after nearly half a century together, that’s all they need to say.
Struggles of a parent with hearing loss
Reflecting on the biggest challenge of raising children as a parent with hearing impairement, Lumu explains, “The main obstacle we faced was communication with our children.” For Nakalyowa, the silent moments often felt isolating, but together, they made it work.
Gratitude for her parents
Nalongo Nabbosa — Lumu and Nakalyowa’s youngest child — shares her perspective on growing up with parents with hearing impairment. “Many people don’t believe that my parents are Lumu and Nakalyowa, commonly known as ‘the unhearing mechanic,’” Nabbosa says in a phone interview.
Lumu at his work at Mpigi filling station.
Despite their financial limitations, Nabbosa recalls how her parents made sure to support her education.
“Though my father had a small income from his tyre mechanic work, they managed to pay my school fees, and I got some education,” she reflects.
Looking back, Nabbosa says she has no regrets. “I am happy with the gift God gave us. Many well-off people can’t do what my parents did for us. They managed, despite their condition, and for that, I am grateful. Every morning or evening, I walk to say hello to them.”
As they look ahead, Lumu and Nakalyowa remain hopeful. Their love, faith, and determination continue to shape their journey, and they remain deeply grateful for the support they’ve received along the way.