A Youth’s Dream in Ruins

By Peter Charles Maidi

This is a novel that eloquently attests to the assertion that "Literature holds the mirror up for life." It's an extremely moving novel that satisfies a reader's insatiable thirst for word feasting, golden ideas, and valuable life lessons. The drama in this novel moves quickly to the climax like a pandemic picking up pace. Reading it, you feel as if you are under the baneful influence of a word sorcerer.

The protagonist, Mogale's ordeal, is an unspeakable tragedy. The highly gifted young man, who is the hope of his family, his community, and his province, ends up disappointing everyone, including himself. The fate of his talent is like a death sentence lying in ambush along the corridors of judicial power.

Yes, this novel is a dramatic depiction of the turbulent life of a young academic genius whose poetic voice seems to move with black thunder. In this instance, the author's poetry-turned-theatre is a memorable act of language with transcendental possibilities. It enhances the drama in the book for more enjoyment and understanding.

The author's writing style is really like the crystal bells of the African nightingales ringing their vocal magic to the moon as he expresses golden ideas and feelings in beautiful sentences that create word pictures.

It is a novel that glorifies the African cultural establishment by embracing ancestors, traditional beer, and praise poetry.

It is a novel that, in style and language, could even steal the heart of His Imperial Majesty, the Shah of Persia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Maidi
• Release date: Feb 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224890446

Book preview

DEDICATION

To all the children, teachers and parents who have been killed by school children. May your souls rest in eternal peace...!

To my late grandmother - Barbara Ramadimetja Maapola. For the precious time and memorable moments I have spent with you when I ran away from home. You used to say to me: Ngwana ngwanaka, wena o botse kudu, bashemane batlo go lwela ngwanaka. O tsene sekolo o ithute, o tle o kgone go itlhokomela ka moso. O seke wa nyaka go direlwa ka lebaka la gore go direlwa go go fetosha lekgoba la o mongwe (My grandchild, you are so beautiful, boys will fight over you. You must go to school and learn, so that you can be able to take care of yourself in future. Do not aspire for things to be done for you, instead, aspire to do things for yourself because when things are done for you, you become a slave to those who are doing things for you). I have heard and have done exactly how you told me Koko. I will forever cherish you in my heart. May your soul rest in eternal peace!

SYNOPSIS

A circle of a young girl’s suppressed voice for justice is a true story of the author, Halalelo (not her real name). The book outlines injustices that Halalelo observed and endured as a child at home, in the community and at school as a young girl. At home, the first injustice was extremely challenging household chores that her mother endured without complaining or asking to be assisted.

Secondly, how her mother treated her father who was a migrant worker and coming home once a month was regarded as injustice.

Lastly, how his father left behind two of her cousins who were of their same age and took only her and the two sisters to town every time he came home injustice because it was dividing a family that lived together.

Halalelo attempted to ask her mother and grandmother about her resentment but was harshly reprimanded not to ask, because she was a child. Everyday occurrences crushed the young girl. She often went to a pit toilet to cry whenever she had witnessed something she could not bear. From that age, before she could even start with formal schooling, Halalelo resorted to finding a way to fight those injustices because she was not allowed to ask.

However, she became even more observant to every little detail of what was happening around her. She isolated herself from the rest and was always very quiet, frustrated, bitter and angry towards everyone. She fought with people and regarded herself as everyone’s enemy in the family.

Time to start school came. Halalelo remained the quiet, bitter, and observant young girl from primary school. Many heartbreaking incidences occurred, and she ended up carrying a knife in her schoolbag.

FOREWORD

They kill each other, and they hurt each other. They kill themselves and they hurt themselves. They kill their teachers and they hurt their teachers. They kill their parents and they hurt their parents. They kill their siblings and they hurt their siblings. They kill their relatives and they hurt their relatives. They kill their neighbours and they hurt their neighbours. We no longer feel safe on the roads, we are scared of them. We are no longer feel safe in our homes, we are scared of them. What is wrong? Why do they choose to do such an evil thing? Someone may ask: How do they sleep at night?

These are only children, our children. These are the precious gifts we have been blessed with. We once cuddled them in our arms, bathed them, dressed them and held them by hand. We once looked straight in their eyes and looked closely at their tiny little faces. We once kissed and held them very tight. We once made them laugh and wiped their tears whenever they were crying for something. We once took them to clinics and doctors whenever they were not well or for routine immunizations. They loved us so much-they cried for us. In the same way, we loved them so much-we cried for them. We played together, laughed together, screamed together, and slept together. We took care of them until when they were ready to be sent to school.

We continued to take care of them. Ultimately, we taught them how they should bath themselves. We taught them how to do things for themselves. We then gradually moved backwards as we taught them to be responsible because we knew we would not be with them forever. Is it that we have completely and abruptly withdrawn ourselves out of their lives and made them to see for themselves? Is it that we have built a bridge between us and them and made it so fortified that they became aware that we would not see what they do on the other side, while they also could not see what we do on the other side? Are we now in two different worlds, them in theirs, and us in ours? We blame them, they also blame us. We point fingers at them, they also point fingers at us. Where have we gone wrong? Where have they gone wrong?

INTRODUCTION

The stabbings and killings by children continue to dominate all forms of media in South Africa and beyond. Some of these horrifying incidences include: A pupil who allegedly stabbed three fellow pupils, leaving one dead in one of the High schools in Turffontein, Southern Johannesbury in Gauteng Province (News 24, 03 June 2019, 19: 54, Ntwaagae Seleka); high school pupils who are suspected of murdering Polokwane man (SowetanLive, 26 February 2019, 13:13, Peter Ramothwala); a 17-year-old learner who allegedly stabbed a 24 year old teacher in North West Province to death in front of learners who were writing an exam (https://www.rnews.co.za/.../shock-after-learner-stabs- teacher-to-death-in-view-of-othe...); an 18-year-old high school learner who allegedly stabbed a fellow 18-year-old learner to death and; the deputy principal of one High School in Pietermaritzburg, KwaZulu-Natal, who was gunned down in front of Grade 12 pupils; in October 2017.

These are hair-rising incidences. Our children have become our worst enemies. We live in the same households, but we are scared of each other and do not feel safe around each other. I wonder if we sometimes wish that they could have the world of their own were we would no longer be able to mingle with them. The questions that linger remain: Have we ever set aside time to check what these children that stab and kill are going through? Don’t we think we need to pause for a while and check reasons behind their horrible and malicious deeds? As the author was visiting schools and communities across the country, she took time and asked questions to quite a number of children that she was told that they have stabbed and/or killed. The following are some of the responses she got from them, names used are not their real names:

-  Steven: At home, I am being pampered with a lot of money. My parents think this money is parenting me. They are forever not there at home to spend time with me to teach me about life. What I need is them, their company, not their money.

-  Mpho: My father died some years ago and left us money to take care of us. We are now suffering here at home. My mother took the money my father had left and ate it with a boy who is of the same age as me, they call them the Ben 10s here. I hate my mother and that boy and I want to kill them. It hurts me to look at how we are suffering at home. My younger brother has even moved out to live at the streets, he told me that he could not stand watching our mother sleeping around with that boy because at school, other children were talking and laughing about it.

-  Mlungisi: I am worried and angry towards my parents, look at the shack that we stay in. It is very difficult, we share a toilet with about eight other families. It is not right. The thing is: what were my parents doing when other parents were going to school preparing for their future. Look at me now, I do not have proper school uniform like other children and I always do not have money to pay for school trips. No, this is annoying. Why did these people bring me to this earth when they knew they were not going to be able to take care of my basic needs? No, this is not fair.

-  Mashudu: I have learnt to carry a knife after I was attacked by a group of boys as I was coming from a soccer match. From there, I told myself that I would never leave my knife at home because I do not have a brother to fight for me.

-  Xiphemo: Look at me, it is winter, I do not have warm clothes. Everytime I ask for clothes they tell me that they do not have money and that I am a spoilt brat. My sister has even decided to sleep with sugar daddys so that they could give her money to buy clothes. She is lucky because she is a girl. What must I do? I go out with my friends, we take our knives, sniff dagga and thereafter wait for people who come late from work and take their stuff. We sell the stuff and buy clothes for ourselves. We became used to it, it was easy money that helped us buy what we needed. Nowadays we no longer buy clothes, we have enough. We dress in the same type of clothes; nobody dresses like us here. We are eight in number and we call ourselves CONNELAS. In order to forget all the trouble, we go chill and buy booze here at the tavern that you see. They know us there, nobody comes next to us. We chop their brains. Can you see this knife, it is a butcher knife, one slide on your throat you are out.

-  Analoque: I would no longer go to that school. All teachers there hates me. They always pass negatives remarks about me, saying I am stupid because I always get the lowest marks as compared to the rest of the children in my class; and everybody laughs at me. I would not go, I rather hang around with other majitas (young boys) here at the spaza shop, nobody is troubling us here, no one is making us to feel bad here.

These are some of the comments the author got from the children that she spoke to in various communities and schools of South Africa. As a society, do we create spaces where these types of children could open up and talk about issues they are faced with? Do we teach these children coping strategies to such examples of circumstances that they are faced with daily? Are we quick to point fingers, judge and punish these children and see them as nuisances? Their responses and many other responses the author got from children that stab and brutally kill made her to reflect on the life of another young girl because who also wanted to stab and kill people.

Millennials by their own nature question everything that happen around them. No one choose the type of knowledge they need to learn because they have the internet and knowledge is just on their fingertips. Families rely on them to assist with technology but yet, they are still suppressed and not allowed to initiate or rather change the cultural norms and values that do not serve them. On many occasions they are suppressed and still forced to comply to things that do not work for them. As a result, they are feel they are put in a circle and suffocating, they no longer know what to do.

We are unable to see exactly what children are going through. We do not know why they are