Vernie Gaan Skooltoe

It was time for school  !!

            I was now six years old and the time had come for me to be educated.   I could count in English, do a few sums but I could not speak a proper Afrikaans which I would have to do.   The kwediens and I spoke a mixture of Suthu, IsiXhosa, Afrikaans and English.  

I knew to say Dumela, Sakubona, Molo and Dagsê.   Water asseblief, batla metsie or ufuna imanzi.   I was scared, baie bang!   I did not have shoes to wear so I wore a pair of Daf’s old shoes only to be laughed at and told “Jy dra meisie skoene!”   But I discovered that most of the kids were as poor as us or even poorer and did not have shoes either.   I was afraid to ask the teacher to go to a toilet or the “kleinhuisie”, so I wet my pants the first few days.   I was laughed at but also befriended by some boys.   I don’t think that my sisters were impressed with me.   I did not need to go to school to be a farmer, or did I?   Well I had no choice so I learned to ask “Juffrou, mag ek die klas verlaat asseblief?” - and soon I knew how to count to one hundred!   In Afrikaans!!   And I knew the Afrikaans A B C as well!   By the end of the first few months I sounded and looked just like the little Dutchmen!   The school was situated among big Acacia trees and I quickly learned to eat thorn tree gum.   It wasn’t very nice, but it did fill a hole in an empty tummy.

Education.

            We were transported to the “Kleinbroek Primêre Skool” every day by bus, if you could call it that.   It was a converted lorry with a roof over, wooden rails all around the sides, and rolled up canvas which could be let down in cold or rainy weather.   It was hot in summer and very cold in winter.

There were long seats down the sides and in the middle and a big boy always had to let the children in or out.   There were two buses and we were picked up by the Günter Bus, the other one belonged to the van der Lindes.   Martin Günter and Attie van der Linde who were about my age, both became my friends so I avoided being caught up in any rivalry between the children of the two buses.   At one stage I was even invited to stay over at Martin Günter’s house.   The bus travelled on the Bothaville/Viljoenskroon road and we had to walk about a mile to and from the bus stop.  Many a day we were caught in a rain storm and got soaking wet but our books were safe in canvas bags.   The winter mornings were the worst when white frost covered the earth, and it was difficult to keep warm in shorts and no shoes.   My legs would be badly chapped but then candle wax mixed with paraffin worked wonders.   The children each had to take an enamel mug to school where we would be given some soup.   In summer it would be a block of cheese.   In those days a person who had passed standard six was considered to be well educated and that exam was taken very seriously.   Thelma and Bertha were in the same class and both passed well.   Thelma did not want to study further but Bertha went on to the boarding school in Viljoenskroon.   After that the bond between Daf and I become even stronger.