/ 8 September 1995

A day D5s hard graft for a kick in the butt

With a draft Bill banning almost all child labour about to be presented to=

the Cabinet, trainee journalist Fumane Diseko posed as a child labourer,=20 and ended up being fired without pay

Fumane Diseko

It is 6.30 in the morning at a petrol station in Leandra. More than 35 peop=

stuff themselves into the back of a van that is without ventilation. Among=

them are children of the ages of 12 and 13 and me, claiming to be 14 =D1 we=

are going to work at a farm factory.=20 Only when the van swerves dramatically and people collide into each other=

in the dark do I know that it is moving. We cannot see where we are being=

taken =D1 we can only trust that we are going to the correct destination. When we reach Ernest and Johannes Swanepoel=D5s farm, I am told that they=

don=D5t hire people in the middle of the week, because the wages are paid o=

the Friday of every fortnight. With some persuasion from a friend I had=20 made before getting onto the van, I am registered, having made it clear tha=

I am fourteen. No identification is required, nor is my age questioned.=20 There is a wide range of jobs to choose from or be assigned to: making=20 brushes with huge industrial machines, bringing loads of wood into the=20 factory, sawing, or making step ladders. I am swiftly assigned to work in the mop-making department, to my relief.=

My smugness later turns to disappointment when I discover that there is an=

even simpler job =D1 sorting out the grass for making brooms of different=

A tall, balding, red-haired man is walking around the factory. It is the=20 supervisor, Johannes Swanepoel. He has a tendency to manifest himself out=

of nowhere and the workers are abnormally terrified of him.=20 When he appears, there is instant silence. He shouts that we must work.=20 The mop group cowers and whoever he comes close to shrinks away from=20 him. I am told that he beats up his employees without discrimination or=20

I do not believe this until my friend is kicked on the buttocks for no=20 particular reason when she is on her knees to pick up some bits of mop=20 string from the floor.=20 Later on, shrill shouting fills the factory. Swanepoel is at a machine whic=

has jammed and a boy, frightened and confused, is behind it. Swanepoel=20 yells and shouts at him, slapping him around the head.=20 I am very happy when we have our first 30-minute break at 8.30 am. My=20 friend tries to set me up with men who are =D2in love=D3 with me, so that w=

can get money and food from them. It is a norm that a woman should have=20 a boyfriend to subsidise her income. At about mid-morning, I need desperately to go to the toilet. My friend=20 shows me the way to the =D2loo=D3. We walk for a long while, until we reach= a=20 pile of wood on an open plain. Miles and miles of farmland surround us=20 and there are men nearby driving tractors.=20 When I realise I have to use the middle of an open plain, without any=20 privacy, I refuse. Like a good worker, I go back to work despite the=20 extreme discomfort. The work is infinite. Besides exhaustion from standing up, it becomes=20 mundane and tedious. I see children, mostly young boys of around 13,=20 working in the wood department. They are hauling huge loads of pine=20 wood, sawing them into shapes on huge industrial machines and making=20 stepladders. A six-year-old is busy sweeping wood shavings. She is not=20 being paid for it =D1 she is there with her mother, who stays on the farm. The belief that people are equal is very obvious, as adults and children=20 slaved equally =D1 the more fortunate for R120 and the less fortunate for=

R80 a fortnight. Most of the boys working in the factory live on the farm. Later in the day, I notice there is a watchman on the roof, looking out for=

the police and other infiltrators. The factory employs illegal immigrants=

and, if the police come, the watchman bangs on the corrugated iron roof=20 and they hide. I slip away from my post and sit under the shade of the carport and=20 daydream. I am not noticed by Swanepoel, who strides past, engrossed in a=

conversation. It is a good thing, because he is said to be the type who=20 shouts at you for not working rather than firing you. The others tell me th=

he chases after workers who leave the farm before the end of the work day=

with his car and drives them back to work. Eventually it is time for the truck ride back to Leandra. This time, it is =

open-air truck. But I do not get to feel the fresh air I am looking forward= to=20 so much. While I am standing, waiting to get on to the truck, Johannes=20 Swanepoel, being the brave brawler that he is, takes it upon himself to giv=

me the kick he is so notorious for.=20 I kick him right back, but not from behind as he had done to me. Like a=20 good soldier who does not shoot people from behind, I give it to him from=

the front and on the shin. I tell him where to get off, a tirade I will not=

repeat and, in return, he tells me to get off his farm and walk. I don=D5t =

the money I have earned =D1 R10 =D1 and he says I must fetch it the next=20

It is the first time I have ever been fired and I am glad.