Cecily Morris: A centenarian youngster

"I am Cicely Morris. C-I-C-E-L-Y, Cicely Morris. I am 101 years and six months," she responds before going on to say that she was born in Orange River to Hilda May on February 5, 1909.

Her husband, Robbie, with whom she raised six children - four boys and two girls - passed away some 30-odd years ago. Two of the boys also predeceased her, but Cicely Morris will readily tell you that she has enjoyed life to its fullest and continues to do so.

She makes her bed every morning without help, and remembers, too, to turn off the outside lights.

Life for her now is particularly fulfilling, given the destitute circumstances in which she was born and raised.

"Mi grow up very poor - very, very poor," she says, before going on to stress the importance of hard work, a lot of which she had to endure.

It all started when May, at age 15, according to Morris, "take faas and get me". By the time she was born, her father was nowhere around, having gone to the Panama Canal to seek his fortune.

"Him never send back come find out if me alive or anything at all."

Raised by her grandmother, who lived in Chapelton, and mother who lived between Orange River and Crooked River, Morris only attended the Chapelton and Crooked River primary schools and, at age 13, wore a pair of shoes for the first time. That was also the year when her mother took sick and was bedridden and so the burden of earning a living to keep food on the table fell to the teenager.

Making a living

"Mi haffi walk from Orange River up there to Cave Valley ... far man! Mi walk bout 15 miles from where mi telling you 'bout. Walk and carry mango bare feet cause dat time mango wasn't common and when you go other places, you get good money fi mango."

Then she digresses.

"When mi think about the life weh mi pass through when mi was young, mi caawn believe a me alive fi see a 100 and odd years. The Lord really good to me because I work hard and very poor," she says with a chuckle.

When she and Robert - her husband - fell in love, Cicely's mother was dead set against the union and tried everything to discourage the relationship, and with good reason it would seem.

"Same as how me poor, a so him poor, you nuh. But you know how love go ... we wouldn't leave."

Their first real break came when a Mr Michelin, the 'Busha' on the property where he worked, stood security for 'Robbie' to rent the land on which they built the house. She explained that when the owner decided to sell out, they got the option to buy 10 acres.

Following a hurricane in 1951 when the River Minho overflowed its bank, the main road was washed away, cutting off the community, the Government bought an acre of land from the Morrises to build the new connecting road.

Their journey to a better life, however, was only just beginning.

Booming sugar trade

Sugar cane was a good economic crop at that time, and Robbie planted out almost their entire acreage in cane. This gave them the independence to make their own sugar, even though they would have to travel by dray cart to places as far away as Kingston, Spanish Town, and St Ann's Bay to market the sugar and 'sugar head', a by-product of the sugar-making process, which was well in demand in Mandeville.

The journey by mule-drawn carts fitted with metal wheels was hard on the body and the process of sugar-making was hard as well.

"Whole week we a mek sugar. From Monday we work inna dat sugar until Thursday night, and Friday morning we get up, we haffi just tidy up gawn pan dray to Mandeville fi go sell sugar head."

After cutting the cane, it had to be transported to the mill, where, according to Morris, you could wait for most of the day before getting your turn to feed the cane into the mill. The juice then had to be ladled out of the barrel or whatever container it was collected in and transferred to the copper - a large metal container in which it would be boiled.

"It pay off, you know. Now when mi siddung and a look up a Bull Head and see all the yard when it cut and look good, mi a admire it. But God really good, for Him make mi live fi inherit mi labour."

Cicely explains that her eyes are not so bad because she has had them operated on, and her being somewhat hard-of-hearing did not in anyway hamper the interview which went smoothly. She suffers from diabetes and high blood pressure, and, from time to time, is affected by joint pain, but not to the extent that she is rendered immobile.

"Me memory not so bad. For when me was going to school, you had the ABC and you have the B book them call it. Then afterward, you go into the first class. From mi was 'bout eight years, them use to teach us some memory gem, and one of them say: 'Help the weak if you are strong. Love the old if you are young. Keep a guard upon your tongue and own a fault if you are wrong'."

"Nice meeting you. What is your name? Delighted to meet you and thanks for coming," she says before shaking hands, as I stand to leave and gaze in wonderment at this centenarian youngster.

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