I decided to relocate and this is a brief account of the first four months back home. https://www.instagram.com/tv/CLZMAphjo67/?igshid=1kih23qwt2bmf
I watched my mother build a school.
Yes. I watched my mother build a school. I was 7 years old or so when it started and so badly wanted to go to this school. I could not though, I was already ahead in class.
It started with her as the only teacher and a single Sub-A (now Grade 1) class; working from a rondavel at her uncle’s home. She had actually grown up at that same home in her early years.
I asked her a few years ago, one of those conversations during her illness. “Why did you do it? ” She said that she could not say No, when the community asked her to build them a school. She felt that if she doesn’t do it who will? This was a community that had raised her, so when they asked her to fulfill her destiny and build them a school, she could not say NO.
Before that I knew that schools had always been there. I never knew how they get to be there. It is the same school I look at every time I am home and wonder, “How did my mother do this?”
“Were you not afraid that you would fail? ” I am already pondering all kinds of things I would imagine could go wrong when you do something so drastic.
She said that she did not do it alone. She had the whole community supporting her. The community wanted the school to work and grow; so that their children do not have to walk long distances in terrible conditions to school.
Let me tell you a story, about how my mother built a school, Makhuleng Higher Primary School.