By PHAKAMISA MAYABA
As members of the class of 2024 embark on a post-matric future, a new generation of Grade Rs sets off into the maw of South Africa’s education system. On 15 January, tens of thousands of them – some kicking, screaming or just nervous – parted from their guardians and entered the classroom for the very first time. For those familiar with early childhood development, this is just another day at the office. But for many others, it has been a daunting encounter.
For Ma’am Lulama Maseti, matriarch and principal at the S.S. Madikane Primary School in the Colesberg ‘township’ of Kuyasa, this was supposed to be the most chaotic,sometimes tear-jerking day on the annual school calendar. Since assuming her position in 2019, that’s how it’s always been. To her pleasant surprise, the 2025 opening was quite orderly and manageable, partly because she and her staff started to plan for it last year. She also gives credit to the parents who came out in large numbers, and the 100 per cent attendance on the part of her fellow educators.
‘On the first day,’ she says, ‘parents turn up because they want to see the teachers who will be looking after their children.’ She is proud that there were no glitches or delays — everything ran like clockwork, and she got the genuine impression that the ‘kids showed a palpable longing to learn and to follow the rules’. A native of Middelburg in the Eastern Cape, Maseti’s duties at the school have seen her embracing Colesberg as a home away from home, and vice versa.
During our – spontaneous and unannounced – tour of the school, it came across as an affable place. The administrator greeted us with a smile, and there were enough chairs for a few parents who wanted to iron out some last-minute details. Within minutes, we were escorted to the principal’s classroom, and sooner still had her picture and comment. Then, we were on our way to meet the unwitting heroes of this story.
At their low tables and mini-chairs, there they were, hair trimmed, shoes shining, some lounging back like the cast in a kindergarten version of Sister Act 2. There were the soft-spoken ones, the ones who were eager to play class prefect from day one, and the assiduous Ma’am Ntombethando Fitshane keeping a watchful eye on them all. The doting Fitshane had hit the ground running, and if anybody thought that they wouldn’t be doing any work on the first day of school, they were in for a big surprise. ‘Today,’ she announced, ‘we are going to write.’ This elicited some glancing around, but no grumbling.
Ma’am Ntombethando Fitshane … eager to get going from Day One. Image: eParkeni.
Fitshane clearly loves her job. She’s been in it for five years now, and one quickly learns that dealing with oonomngqushwana – the small cobs – is not for the faint-hearted. You need to keep up with the jabber (shushing it when the decibels begin to interrupt the class next door) and the sudden bursts and movements of those who still need to get used to the concept of authority and being told what to do.
She handles it well, our Ma’am Fitshane, talking casually and giving instructions so as to retain the young minds’ attention. From now on, her role as Grade R teacher will play a vital role in shaping these children’s lives – it’s inarguably one of the most honourable occupations anyone could occupy.
Strangely, I don’t hear any sniffles, or see any tears. ‘Well,’ she says, ‘there was one who was crying earlier, but as you can see, that’s all over now and everybody is happy.’
Henceforth, to the best of her ability, she will offer a shoulder to cry on, and try to ease the trepidation and uncertainty that is so commonplace as the kids come to terms with school life. She will sometimes have sweets in her handbag, and dispense endless hugs.
One wishes this wasn’t so, but the statistics point to dreadful trends in the longer term. They tell us that, for a variety of reasons, up to half of these youngsters will not write matric in 2038, but will drop out along the way.
Although the Department of Basic Education was quick to laud the 87.3% matric pass rate of the Class of 2024, others were far from convinced. Build One South Africa pointed out that the ‘real’ pass rate – including those who had dropped out or otherwise never made it to matric’ — was lower.
Time to hit the classroom after a short break. Image: eParkeni.
Only 47% of these matriculants have managed a pass rate high enough for admission to a university for a bachelor’s degree, and the 30% pass mark ‘can inflate pass rates, with the current figures cited by many as unjustifiably low,’ reads a BusinessTech article. Although the DBE hit back at the 30% pass claim, Build One South Afcrica (BOSA), for one, still believes that anything below a 50% pass mark is problematic. Moreover, only about 20% of African learners in South Africa are performing to global standards.
In the long term, the Grade Rs at S.S. Madikane will face other problems that have been giving the education department and the country sleepless nights. Some 80% of them will probably be unable to read for meaning at age 10, and will be among the worst-performing in Mathematics in the world. They may have to contend with overcrowded classrooms, seemingly untouchable unions, and an education system that is sometimes years behind the requirements of the working world.
Day One in Ma’am Ntombethando Fitshane’s Grade R class. Image: eParkeni.
Despite all their enthusiasm and their eagerness to learn, they may find themselves in a system where the odds are stacked high against them. Or sound leadership minds may prevail in the coming years, and this new generation of learners may have a fighting chance. During our visit, we saw them all; the big-mouth lawyer, the keen artist colouring in his picture book — some 60 kids on one of the most important days of their lives. No doubt they have the attitude and the dreams. Let’s hope the big guns will come to the party and create the sort of environment for those dreams to be realised.
FEATURED IMAGE: Ma’am Lulama Maseti, principdl of S.S. Madikane Primary School, in her element. Image: eParkeni.
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This is an edited version of an article that first appeared on Phakamisa Mayaba’s website, eParkeni. Used with permission.