Our children have no fear. There is chaos down there.
They are playing musical chairs. But instead of music, there’s cheers from their peers. Instead of chairs, there’s hands racing, there’s rage, there’s wrath.
There is a war down there. May Lufuno Mavhunga rest.
But how many casualties does it take for us to acknowledge the abuse down there?
Not “childish conflicts” or "bullying", there’s crime down there.
They are lowered into pit latrines, where other school children have died, to search for the headmaster’s cellphone down there.
There are knives at schools. There is ill-discipline and violence in schools.
Sending psycho-social support only when disaster has struck, is an injustice to the youth.
It is crumbs from the bread of help. Not even a slice, in truth.
Afro combs crackle through and ignite sparks on learners’ hair in schools, forcefully at the hands of teachers.
Sexual abuse or harassment of learners; touching, verbal degradation, other forms of sexual violence including rape, by learners, by teachers.
Mournful cries of bruised auras of the abused learners, always wail in hallways. In dormitories, in empty classrooms, fields and in school toilets. The same toilets that have no water.
More often than not, pupils at Goza Primary School, in Soweto, relieve themselves in nearby bushes. They are no different to animals. How would they not be animus?
Their school has been fighting for access to safe drinking water on its premises, for six years. Grade 1 pupils there were born into this mess.
But there is chaos up here too, for us adults.
When police shoot rubber bullets, Black bodies are human shields for the air.
We are accustomed to living in the dark. We raise our animus young with candle light.
The pinnacle of how bright their futures will become.
Man has become canine, biting the hand, binding the hands.
Taking the face, bruising the life. Hacking the body, hanging the neck.
Burning the woman: like he has to be told she isn't a phoenix, just stray bars of light, or is it rays in another prism, reflecting Black.
Another prison holds another man. Another forecast predicts another drizzle of blood precipitation.
Fees have a martial arts stance of ancient gods. Their feet are planted firmly on the ground. They will not fall.
There is chaos up here too, with us parents in how we minimize crime as bullying.
“Children will be children, and will bully each other”
No! we cannot simply call everything bullying. Mavhunga was assaulted.
Her spine was aligned with a wall.
In an attempt to talk her way out of a firing line, her face bounced like a tennis ball in the palms and backhands of her attacker.
She was beckon by her attacker.
With no remorse at all, in a cacophony of jeers, slaps, her screams and their cheers, she was shaken like a rag doll.
While there is chaos everywhere, and all learners can be victims of abuse, girls and disabled learners are particularly vulnerable.