Encourage our youth to be heard
Soweto Class of ‘76 would like current generation to be the vaccine that brings light to townships
LAST Wednesday, I met two young men sitting on the wall of a public library, their faces half-obscured with fading black masks. They were cousins, both in matric; one attending a historically white school in the city, while the other was from an old township school.
Like thousands of youths around the country, they said they were confused and did not know what would become of their futures, given the Covid-19 conundrum.
Siya wanted to go to university for a paralegal qualification or become a police officer. His cousin, Thuto, planned to study commerce.
Listening to them, I found two different stories, two different dreams, gradually wilting under a mysterious and devastating virus. I thought deeply as we talked briefly about June 1976.
Much has changed in our education system since that fateful 1976 wintry day and black families are now able to register their children in any school of their choice.
The cousins may live under the same roof, but they have found that their educational experience is different in their schools.
Several experts have highlighted the inequalities that still exist in our schools. In fact, some have pointed out that our education system is divided into two. On the one hand, there is a system for the wealthy, while on the other, some schools serve poor families.
In fact, when the minister of education announced the reopening of schools after the lockdown, many parents in township and rural schools were scared, thinking of their schools that do not necessarily have the basic resources such as water and enough space for learners.
These situations do not only need watchful parents, but also alert youth.
Vigilant youth arose in two prestigious schools in Kwazulunatal
and Western Cape this
Youth Month. The young people at Bishops and Durban Girls protested, exclaiming, “Away with inequality and discrimination” by teachers; they displayed courage and commitment. These young people displayed leadership, as they called for schools that liberate rather than rigidity and restrictiveness. They also joined the bigger societal debate of decolonisation. Again, this needs to be applauded, because, in reality, the decolonisation debates have been tackled more on higher education level.
In South Africa, when one hears about the ill-treating of learners, the dismay leads to thoughts on the abhorrent apartheid education that the youth in 1976 fought against.
To my pleasant surprise, the two lads in the library were informed about the events of 1976. They knew of Tsietsi Mashinini and Khotso Seathlolo. They knew of Hector Pietersen, but not Mbuyisa Makhubu. They had never heard of the first victim, Hastings Ndlovu. However, they were aware the event was all because of the enforcement of Afrikaans and a call for better education.
I asked them if all had changed now for our schools.
“We are not yet there, but our government has done much. We still have many struggling schools, but we are a bit better than we were in 1976.”
As I stood preparing to leave, I saw the desperation and hunger to succeed in their eyes. Like many other South African youths, they are exposed to the present challenges that their families and their communities face. They fear the ogre of Covid-19, which might not give them a chance to write exams, perhaps never to go back to school.
However, I was certain that the young people in Soweto ‘76 would like to see them taking a more active role; to be the vaccine that brings light to townships and lonely hamlets. Amid the morbid uncertainty of the Covid-19, we should not lower our expectation despite the challenges.
I saw written on Siya’s rucksack: BLACK LIVES MATTER. I looked far ahead, agreeing that this is a truism. The desperation in their eyes emitted a haunting voice into my ear – Black success matters and, of course, we want all our youth to succeed.
Msila is a director at Unisa’s Department of Leadership and Transformation. He writes in his personal capacity.