/ 23 January 1998

In the midst of the education crisis, a

curious tale of three schools

Bengu’s school falls on hard times

Andy Duffy

The school Minister of Education Sibusiso Bengu established and ran before he went into politics has been hit by funding cuts, forcing it to close its doors to hundreds of schoolchildren.

The KwaZulu-Natal provincial education department has told Dlangezwa High School that it must stop recruiting pupils from across South Africa, and that it plans to end the fee subsidies that opened Dlangezwa up to thousands of poorer children.

The school, long seen as one of the best state boarding schools in the country, says its dormitories and kitchens have not been repaired in the nearly 30 years of its existence.

Principal Syfret Mthiyane says its matric performance has also deteriorated, partly because of the upheaval stemming from Bengu’s attempts to transform state education.

“There are so many changes people are experiencing,” Mthiyane says. “Teachers are no longer as motivated and the culture of learning is not that good.”

Mthiyane says he does not believe Dlangezwa will close, but that it will probably be reduced to a day school. Dlangezwa’s predicament is symptomatic of the problems plaguing state schooling.

The provinces’ lack of funds and mismanagement have already led to thousands of state teachers leaving the service, and the axe hangs over thousands more. Vital areas of expenditure — such as learning material, training and school building and maintenance — have also been ignored

Dlangezwa’s plight is nevertheless likely to prove particularly upsetting for Bengu.

He established the school in 1969, and was its principal until 1976. Two weeks ago, at a press conference on the 1997 matric performance, Bengu used Dlangezwa’s record during his tenure as an example of what could be achieved with good governance. Everyone passed matric under Bengu, and teachers that didn’t perform got the chop. Mthiyane, who took over as principal in 1996 when his predecessor quit for the private sector, says the matric rate slipped to 90% in 1997 from 96% the previous year.

Close to 3 800 pupils from across the country applied to register with the school for 1998. It took just over 800 — 600 of them boarders and the remainder day-school pupils.

But the department has now told Mthiyane he can only take students from KwaZulu-Natal. Subsidies of R4 000 a year per boarding pupil — 80% of the fees — are to be scrapped from mid-year.

“If that subsidy is withdrawn, it will be too much for our children,” Mthiyane says. “But we have been told the department does not have the money.”

The school’s management has also decided not to wait for the province to provide textbooks, but instead appealed earlier this month to its pupils’ parents to pay up.

And as the school re-opened this week, Mthiyane was still not sure whether the two temporary teachers on his 29-strong staff would be with him or not. “I just hope they are not taken because I need them,” he said.

Bengu last saw the school in 1995, when he attended its 25th anniversary celebrations. Mthiyane says Bengu would be “unhappy” to see it now.

A representative for Bengu says the minister “finds it regrettable that a school that has gained such a reputation and provided quality products could be left to go into the doldrums … He isn’t pointing the finger at anyone but in terms of responsibility, all schools are run by the provinces.”

But the KwaZulu-Natal education department says Dlangezwa will be treated like every other school in the province “given our financial position.” In line with the eight other provinces, KwaZulu-Natal faces massive overspending on education, mainly on the wage bill, which has forced it to implement savage cuts.