Page 30 - The Mending Season

fact is our children are living in different times. Times when things will be better for them. Much, much better. They wont know any more stay-aways. They can go to school. Iyo, Modimo\ Oh, my Lord! Our children can go to school, finally. Look, look outside when you re home during the day. You see our children walking up and down, up and down the street. Aimless. Bored. Gape, our children have given up on school, waitseT“Eeng\ Eeng\ Ke nnete, its true,” everyone agreed. “Apartheid destroyed our childrens futures.”“//<?-<?!”The driver spoke. “How long are we going to blame apartheid? Some of these children just dont want to go to school.”“These children want school,” Mmamane Malesedi spoke. “How can they survive schools where the teachers are either absent or beating them? Some of these children marched for years against apartheid. They re tired. Their teachers are tired.”“Hmmm. Le gale, anyway, we join you in giving thanks, my child. These are hopeful times,” the old man told me, and many ofthe passengers said the same thing.“We join you in giving thanks. Its true. The fact is these are hopeful times.”Amid the morning flood of workers pouring out of cars, trains, taxis and buses, we walked the twenty minutes from the taxi to school. In my excitement, I felt I was leaping my way to my new life, charging onto greener pastures. But even as I marched along with the crowd, I was still not walking as quickly as Mmamane Malesedi. By the time we reached the iron gates with the words ASCENSION CONVENT SCHOOL on them, I was out ofbreath and hoping the wind had not done too much damage to my hair.In the schools driveway, students were climbing out oftheir parents’ fancy cars and rushing to hug each other. There were also three kombis - one with only Black girls, another with Indian girls and another with Coloured girls. I saw girls run30