Loud music blares from the house as people walk past the corrugated iron sliding gate, trying to sidestep a used condom lying on the pavement.
It is 10am on Saturday at an informal boarding house in Hoosen Haffejee Street, Pietermaritzburg, and many of the 20 occupants — schoolgirls aged between 11 and 19 — are asleep.
Hardcover notebooks are entangled with some of their blankets, testimony to the girls falling asleep while doing their homework in bed. Three double bunk-beds are sandwiched into each of the three rooms, meaning six girls share a room with hardly any space to move. Two more beds occupy the passage.
There are no cupboards and there are piles of clothing and textbooks on the floor. The house does not have a dining room or lounge, and chairs and tables are nowhere to be seen.
A broken door separates the only bathroom from the rest of the house. The toilet seat is broken and the grubby shower basin lacks a curtain.
This is home to pyjama-clad Buhile* (11) and her 19 other ”family members”. They are among the thousands of ”migrant learners” from the Eastern Cape who have fled the dysfunctional school system for a better education in parts of KwaZulu-Natal that include Pietermaritzburg, Hillcrest and Port Shepstone.
Some attend former Model C schools, but they are particularly attracted to former Indian schools, as they are cheaper.
And they’re also trickling into the Western Cape and Free State. These ”new age” learners come from areas including Flagstaff, Umtata, Mount Frere, Butterworth and Bizana, and their parents are teachers, nurses, police and business people.
The Mail & Guardian visited a few of these learners in Pietermartizburg recently, but they refused to allow this reporter to speak to their parents.
Buhile lives in the overcrowded Hoosen Haffejee Street boarding establishment with her 16-year-old cousin. ”I’m from Flagstaff. In the rural areas the schools are small and overcrowded and the teachers are not that qualified and they don’t speak English that well,” she explained.
”I wanted to learn in English, but the teacher taught in Xhosa and my mother said I should come to Pietermaritzburg.”
The grade six learner attends Regina Primary, where the annual fees are R800. Her boarding house fees are R500 a month. ”It costs R300 for groceries and R200 for taxis to schools,” she said.
”I like Regina Primary School. The teachers teach. My English has improved since moving here this year, but not that much.”
Being away from her mother, Buhile has learnt to survive. She shares the cooking with five other girls who sleep in the same room. ”My cousin helps me budget. I’ve learnt to handle money. My cousin goes to the bank as my mother puts money in the account.”
She spends her spare time reading schoolbooks and when she encounters problems, she confides in her cousin. ”When I get really sad I phone my mother. I miss my mother. I prefer staying with her. I don’t think it’s unfair that she’s sending me here. She wants me to have a better education.
”I’m not scared to live here. The owner’s assistant closes the gate at 7pm and they’re strict. If we arrive late, we have to explain why.”
The owner checks up on the girls twice a week, but her assistant lives in a tiny flat with six boys on the same property.
There is, however, no homework supervision by trained staff as is the case at formal boarding schools. Nor are healthy meals provided.
According to a school principal who asked not to be named, ”the influx of Eastern Cape learners started about seven years ago and their parents ”are generally well off — they can afford to pay the school fees and rent of up to R900 a month”. Many of the beleaguered parents who send their children out of the province feel this is an investment in their future.
But at the same time more unscrupulous operators are setting up informal boarding houses where overcrowding and poor living conditions are rife. It is difficult for local authorities to monitor the situation, the principal explains.
”Often there are 40 to 50 children in a house and 10 children to a bedroom.” In some cases, the children were waking up at 2am to bath and to queue for food, and schools now have the added task of interacting with local authorities and social workers.
According to Peter Duminy, CEO of teachers’ union Naptosa in the Eastern Cape, there is a similar trend within the province, where children are being set up in informal hostels so that they can attend good schools.
”Schools have had to involve social welfare to conduct checks on these learners. Sending them to areas that are close to good schools is a desperation measure on the part of parents.
”As teenagers they experiment. Some engage in prostitution and drug peddling and they use their [rent] money for alcohol and parties. Where parents keep monitoring the learners, you don’t have these problems. But parents doing spot visits costs extra money.”
Meanwhile, Buhile’s 16-year-old friend Vuyelwa* who is in grade 11 at Northbury Park Seconday School, complains: ”This place is not clean. We have to cook for ourselves. I don’t like it. Here we fall asleep while doing our homework — bending on the bed hurts our backs. At other boarding houses they have tables.”
The former Butterworth resident pays R1 200 in school fees a year. ”Northbury Park Secondary has a strong focus on maths and science. I want to become an actuary. The public schools here are cheaper than the private schools in the Eastern Cape.”
Her biggest headache is that some of her housemates try to tempt her to drink alcohol ”but I’d rather do my homework”.
As a born-again Christian, she is often the butt of the girls’ jokes.
”I go to church. It guides me. I respect my mother who is a single parent. I’d love to live with my mother and I told her so. She said that I should hold on until grade 12. She said that she loves me and that I should pray and ask the lord for wisdom.”
Four kilometres away in a humble semidetached, two-roomed council house in lower Northdale, Kharina Secondary School grade eight learner Xolelwa* is cooking rice, meat and potatoes for dinner for her three siblings.
The 14-year-old takes care of her two younger sisters’ aged 10 and seven, and their older brother.
”In the Eastern Cape the private schools are not affordable. We came here for a better education and it’s affordable,” says Xolelwa. Fully aware that she is playing the role of mother, she says: ”I feel like I’m growing up too quickly. A child like me should not be in this situation. I rely on the neighbours and church people for help.” Her mother tries to visit twice a month.
Her typical day after school entails cooking and washing the clothing. ”It’s tiring when I come home from school. I’ve got to deal with the children and some of the chores. ”
She sighs: ”Disciplining these child-ren is a problem. They make me go insane. I’m always scolding them as they don’t listen. They want to stay outside after 5pm.”
What bothers the children is the feeling of insecurity. Ten-year-old Mandisa*, who attends Greenhill Primary, explains: ”This area is not safe. People take drugs. The other day the police arrived as two men were fighting. We saw them fighting and we got very scared.”
Another 4km away, six high school boys are tenants in an impeccably neat three-bedroomed council house in Howrah Place, Bombay Heights.
Sinovuyo Maseti (18) and Gcobani Makaula (19) look businesslike and wear their school uniform proudly. They moved to the city three years ago because of their unhappiness with Butterworth High School.
The Northbury Park Secondary matric boys have lived on their own after finding boarding-house life too stressful. They follow a food menu for the week and their sports and homework schedule is regimental. Explains Maseti: ”This is a crucial year. You have to tell yourself that you have to work hard and achieve. When you take home that school report it has to be good as our parents have given us money for food and shelter.”
They take turns cleaning the rooms and use the local library to do their homework. They are set on becoming geologists and top their class.
But not all learners are as responsible as Maseti and Makaula. A counsellor at one of the high schools says learners have too much freedom and very little adult supervision, and are being exposed to huge risks.
”Some of the boys smoke dagga and abuse alcohol while the girls ride around with taxi drivers. They are very vulnerable to situations,” the counsellor said.
”Some parents are unaware of the boarding-house conditions, others are just not living up to their roles as parents; they’re dumping their children in another province and expect the schools to raise them.
”The schools are doing too much for these learners. More parental control is needed.”
*The names of learners have been changed. School staff are not allowed to speak to the media