These past few weeks have been tense as university students protest for Fees to fall. Police and private security greet them with brutality, students are arrested and it seems as if our voices will not be heard, again.
Below is a poem written by a grade 12 Student, addressing the Fees Must Fall movement and a comment made by a UCT recruiter who came to her school and said "University is a privilege and not a right."
Below is a poem written by a grade 12 Student, addressing the Fees Must Fall movement and a comment made by a UCT recruiter who came to her school and said "University is a privilege and not a right."
Sumaya Enyegue is one of Claremont High Schools' top achievers, likely to achieve an A-aggregate,
and wants to study MEDICINE next year. That is if she can get funding.
The
poem she wrote is based on a TRUE story, and is titled:
TO THE MAN WHO STOOD IN FRONT
OF A ROOM FULL OF MATRICS AND TOLD THEM FEES SHOULDN'T FALL
Dear.
Mr. Man,
I wonder if perhaps we share a mother,
I wonder if perhaps we share a mother,
Because
mine is a domestic worker.
She
gets on her knees and scrubs the dirt off clean floors.
Maybe
she is mimicking her teenage years.
The
years she spent on her knees in front of strange men.
Maybe
that’s why she scrubs so hard.
My mother also takes the little Caucasian boy for walks and speaks
to him in the language of her colonisers.
She
does all of this for R4000 a month.
Or maybe you’re the father of my late friend?
The
friend who hung himself because he had to take an “indefinite leave of absence”
because of late fees?
Three bursaries later and he was still drowning in debt.
The
first person in his family to go to University.
And
now? There are still no degree-holders bearing his name.
Did you have to bury him?
Throw
brown dirt on your brown boy and write his eulogy?
Maybe,
in your previous life, you were the shack that Asemahle grew up in?
Did your metal skin scorch her fingers as she sat on her thin
matrass and clutched the rejection letter for a student loan?
Did
the ruffling of your roof drown out her cries as she checked the rejection
email from a university a week later?
Do
you know she still lives in you now?
Or perhaps; you’re just a man,
With
valid opinions, like mine.
Who
stood in front of a room full of matrics and told them “University isn’t a
right, but a privilege.”
I
hope you know my heart sank.
Because
wasn’t freedom a privilege reserved for a few 30 years ago?
But
maybe,
Just
maybe
You’re merely a man.
Who
should stop speaking for an entire nation.
We asked Sumaya to give us her thoughts about the poem, She said:
"I
wrote this poem unintentionally. Like, I wasn't looking to write about anything
remotely political or about the fees must fall movement. But my matric year
started out rough from the get go. My single mom was battling to pay the the
school fees for R7000 and it became heart-breakingly clear that we would be unable to pay tuition fees for university, especially with a
course like Medicine. I applied for every bursary available and made sure my
marks were at the best possible place that they could be for me. But bursaries
are quite specific, and not many institutions are willing to pay for the 6 year
course. Nevertheless I applied for every Medical bursary at my disposal. Early
on this year, a UCT recruiter came to speak to the matrics at my school about
the application process. He ended off his presentation by saying that
University is a privilege and not a right. My. Heart. Dropped. I mean, what was
that supposed to mean? He echoed this hollow statement to a room full of
matrics, most of whom come from disadvantaged backgrounds. I was pissed, for
lack of a better word. There I was, a young, black female who is just as
capable as the white girl who goes to Herschel or Rustenberg, just as bright,
just as optimistic, just as goal driven. The only difference being that the
white girl probably has 2, financially stable parents, who can afford to send
her to study further. Does that make me any less deserving? Does it make me any
less hardworking? Does it make University a privilege for me, but a right for
her? These are the sort of questions we ask ourselves. I work hard. I work so
so so so hard. And ultimately, the sad reality is: I work twice as hard to get
half of what privileged children get. And that seems to be the fact that the
Post-Apartheid South Africa seems to ignore. Its quite easy to brush off an
affordable, decolonized education as unachievable, but what is the alternative?
A system where the rich get richer and the poor stay poor? I just want a
country not trying to cure itself of me. I want to have the same opportunities
as Asemahle, or Chloe, or Jason or Lukhanyiso. I want to highlight the fact
that a fair, just society starts when the people to whom it affects are educated
enough to fight for themselves. Until
then,
all I can do is write poems like these. "
Please, SHARE this post in the hopes that it could attract the eye of someone who is willing and able to help Sumaya obtain funding for university next year.
If you can help out or know of someone we can contact, please contact us by either of these emails.
OR
Sumaya Enyegue: Sumayaenye@gmail.com
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