It was a busy Tuesday morning early this year, second period of the day, to be exact. I got into the grade nine class for mathematics period. As always, after greeting the learners, I shared with them a statement of motivation and encouragement. And I wrote this on the blackboard: “When you put the best in, you get the best out.” Then I turned and said to them: “Because of this (pointing at the statement on the chalkboard) I expect the best from you because I always put much love into everything I do. Can we agree on this? In unison they said: “Yes, Ma’am.”
Then I introduced my lesson on fractions. As I turned to the chalkboard, I heard a disturbance. I turned around. There were Lungile* and Setshaba* exchanging punches. Lately, Setshaba has been quiet and withdrawn. I shouted at them to stop the fighting but they didn’t. I rushed without thinking and got in between them. Only then did they stop.
Setshaba, who was shaking with anger, clung to me with tears rolling down his face. I tried in vain to loosen myself from his grip. I moved out with him hanging onto me as I asked him to let go. Eventually, he did. I took him to the sick room and gave him water to drink so that he could cool down.
I returned to the class and called Lungile to find out what had triggered the fight. He told me they joked about Setshaba’s face which was pale and grey (umbashile) like a dying person. He started fighting him because he was being laughed at.
Back in the sick room Setshaba was still sobbing. I asked him if he would like to talk to me about what had happened. He apologised. He said he was provoked and lost his temper.
I reminded him that, in cases like this, we notify their parents and that fighting is a misconduct that has to be reported to the principal. He pleaded for forgiveness and begged me not to involve the principal because he feared being expelled.
I discovered during our conversation that Setshaba’s mother had died some years back and he was living with his sickly grandmother who had been admitted to hospital the previous night. Setshaba was left in the custody of his neighbours. I could tell that he was very close to her and feared she might pass on as well. He was trying to block out the thought of life without her. I felt tears filling my eyes. Two days later, we visited the grandmother at the hospital where she was recovering well. The boy is relating better with his peers now and gradually opens up during our counselling sessions.
I felt obligated to help and support the boy and I learned to put much love in his life. As they say: a life touched is a life changed.
* Names have been changed to protect learners’ identities. Manganyi teaches grades eight and nine maths and science at DC Marivhate Junior Secondary School in Soshanguve, north of Pretoria. She was a runner-up in the category of Excellence in Secondary School Teaching in the 2010 National Teaching Awards.