Privilege Must Fall

What I appreciate about the process of growing up is that one is perpetually forced to refer to the past in order to make sense of the present and what lies ahead. The recent mass revolt against annual high tuition fee increases by tertiary students in South Africa is goose-bump inspiring to say the least.

For me, it brings to light, once again, multilayered questions and concerns that have often plagued my thoughts over the past few years of my mental metamorphosis. These thoughts have led me to conclude for instance, that my money will not pay for my child to go through private school. In fact, I would rather he goes through public schooling.

People often gasp in disbelief when share this thought with them. This is the same disbelief some expressed when I said I would a deliberate effort to teach my son to speak only siSwati and other African indigenous languages before he attempts the English language.

I acknowledge the incredulity expressed by others over my views on private schooling – it’s simply because they know I am a product of private schooling, something that perhaps looked so precious to them from their public school corridors. “You say this even after getting a quality education? You were privileged, you should be grateful” they exclaim.

And that’s just what bothers me – ‘privileged’.  Let me share with you the simple dictionary definition of privilege: a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people. And yet in this country, in this continent, and globally, we seem to think that a privileged education is something to brag about and uphold when it’s clear to tell from its definition and practice that it aims to exclude others (often the majority) from ‘a right’, a basic human right.

We know too well of ministers and heads of state who dispatch their precious children to out-of-country boarding schools and overseas universities and colleges in the name of accessing a quality education in prestigious schools because privileged education.

Even the middle class parents continue to dare life-long loan repayments just to force matters and enable their children to access private schooling. As I write this, there are parents who are teachers somewhere in Swaziland but their children are inside a Cefups Academy classroom in Nelspruit, South Africa.

Now what of the children whose parents are unemployed, unemployable and/or poor? What of the children whose parents are dead? Child-headed households are a reality we’ve lived with for at least two decades now.

Education is a human right not a privilege

The indignity of being a poor child in any setting is already too much to bear - now imagine the hopelessness that comes with the added humiliation of knowing that because you are poor or orphaned you are by default destined to more poverty because education is only reserved for a few.

Note too, that privilege gives a certain group (a minority) an ‘advantage’ and ‘immunity’ over those who do not enjoy this superior benefit.

This was always easy for me to notice where I grew up. Children that attended the private Ubombo Primary and Sisekelo High schools had specially designated Ubombo Ranches company buses (and drivers) to ferry them around and on school trips whilst the rest of the schools in the area had to share buses. The higher school fees obviously made sure that many of the parents do not send their children to these schools.

Most of my siblings were among ‘the rest’ ‘the other’ or ‘them’ – cramped in the horse and trailer truck that dropped them off at Mndobandoba and Ndzevane schools. These are public schools far flung from the center of Big Bend where the infrastructure is up-to-date, where the school I attended, Sisekelo, had air conditioning and a myriad of extra mural activities to participate in – swimming, hockey, cricket, aerobics, art, pottery you name it – most of which were not enjoyed in the Big Bend public schools where a majority of the employees’ children (including my siblings) studied.

And so how could Sisekelo not top the list of schools excelling in external examinations when everything was pre-designed to give the children (of the minority white people) a head start, an advantage  and immunity from all ills and restrictions, present and future, imposed by inadequate learning facilities experienced in Ndzevane and Mndobandoba?

These are just some of the questions that the tertiary students in South Africa want addressed by the country’s leadership through sound policy and law. And leadership should never be left to government alone – the private sector, whether they like it or not, need to participate in resolving such issues if they want to avoid mass explosions within their corporations in future. These are lessons not just for South Africa but for Swaziland and the rest of Africa too. 

Education should never be a privilege. Privilege should never be glamorized. Poverty must never be romanticized with happy-ever-after stories that started with a struggle for education. Education, like healthcare, is a human right and our leaders must ensure accessibility to all and for free. Other countries have done it – Cuba for instance, produces the world’s largest number of medical doctors and did you know that there isn’t a single private school or university in Cuba?

The education question also calls for us as parents to transform our thinking. The more we subscribe to the concepts and trends of exclusivity of any form, the more we stay trapped in governance and financial systems that were designed to oppress us as the working class. We need to assume the leadership that these young people have demonstrated by boldly pronouncing “Varsity Fees Must Fall”.

Privilege must fall, not only because I’d never get the spelling of this word correct if it weren’t for the autocorrect feature on this PC, but because privilege directly equals indignity for those on its opposite end. No human being deserves to suffer indignity when there are other humans around them.