I am now the husband
and father of three boys, but I still remember so vividly my first week at high
school at Moshesh Senior Secondary School in the shadows of Drakensburg
mountains in Matatiele not far from the better and a popular Catholic school
Mariazell.
I did not apply for
admission so I had to go 2 days before the school opened. I was with my Brother
Zolile (popularly known as Malombo because of his soccer exploits)
I had high
expectations for the school and the type of football they played was what
attracted me the most, I was a soccer player myself growing up in SOWETO and
later Matatiele only soccer was our form of real recreation.
Arriving on a hot
Afternoon in an old bus Called lesedi which took way more time than it was suppose to, the school did not reflect what I had in
mind. There was no vibe; the whole buildings were hidden in long bushes of
grass, untidy and down right ugly. As we enter the main gate, there was a
garage for a School car a huge engine that produces electricity for the school.
And there was a long empty building that the caretaker later told us it was a
dining hall.
Another eye sore was
the old building opposite dining hall, it was a burnt down building, which we
were told it was burnt, buy students who were on strike in the early 80’s. We
were told that we would have to come tomorrow because no late applications were
processed on that day.
There was no transport
back but we were told about our distant relatives who lived in the area, I
never knew them my whole life until I was desperate. Speaking to some old
student who came to collect their results I got a sense that the school was
going to be beautiful within no time. But today we were going to sleep in the
dormitories if we were accepted. We came in ready with clothes a suitcase and almost
everything that I might need in the first three months. Fortunately I was
accepted, but not my brother. I made few friends, I remember my first friend
who appeared to be a real friend was Stanley originally from Thokoza, but like
me his father was originally from Matatiele. Stanley few weeks later died to
what everyone believed was an initiation of “Metjhoba”(new student”. I was not there when he died
therefore I cannot confirm or deny this. I wanted to believe that they killed my
friend.
Dormitories resembled deserted
pigsties with few halls with bunk beds. The boarding master who seemed to be a
nice guy showed us around. There were three building and we had a choice of
staying anywhere because we came first. We were put of by stories of rough guys who live in those dormitories.
They all had names, some were so iffy I kind of wondered if they were official
I don’t know who named them. I chose to live in New York. I was told normally
new students live in New York, so I thought I could survive my first year easy
there. Behind our building it another called Russia, commodores which was
smaller could accommodate six people maximum and there was notorious SOWETO
which Stanley did everything to convince me to go stay with him in. next to Soweto
there was an SRC boarding house which used to be boarding master room.
By three in the
afternoon I had my bed set ready for me to sleep on we exchanged our provisions
steam bread chicken or sheep. I must say some of the food uneatable to say the
least. The empty hall was beginning resemble a home.
Students were
trickling in one by one drunk like adults and were told scary stories about the
guys who will use the last bus. The bus come when it is become darker and
students at that time are doing as they wish. I was afraid that day were going
to be initiate us in what was called “ ho treater” all the old students were
shouting at the loudest of their pitches “ Ha Nkaaaaaawu, ha Nkawu”.
This was a war cry to
call new comers to join what was called a stitch, we followed each other and
this kind of looked nice, but we were told sometimes it gets ugly.
All the scary stuff we
were told about began to sound like urban legend, as I never experience it.
Treatment was far and between and depended on who hates you the most. For some
strange reason they did like guy from big cities because they thought we know
it all. If you have gone to initian school you were better of as you socialise
with big guys. I was lucky that I had gone initiation school hence the treatment
began to sound like urban legend. And I did the Sesotho initiation, which was
popular in the areas of kwaNkawu, Queens’s mercy Mpharane, Lehata Pontseng and
all surrounding areas. It is still surprising me how we could easily adjust to
such conditions especially in winter.
