By Phakamisa Mayaba
Just shy of an astounding half of South Africa’s teachers want to leave the profession by 2035. This is according to the Teacher Preferences and Job Satisfaction in South Africa report by the Research on Socio-Economic Policy unit (Resep) at Stellenbosch University, that has shed light on what a day in the life of many of South Africa’s teachers looks like. According to some of the 1 500 teachers surveyed online, and the 80 who were taken through follow-up telephonic interviews, it’s not looking good.
Most cited overwork as the primary reason for wanting to leave, with 70 per cent citing administrative burdens as the biggest contributor to stress, and more than a third saying they were dissatisfied with their jobs. Low literacy levels, compulsory grade progression and large class sizes were also cited as impediments to tackling learning shortfalls. Learners from impoverished backgrounds and poor discipline also found mention, with more teachers in small towns and rural areas keen to exit the profession than their urban counterparts.
Subsequent anecdotal evidence from various articles on the report speak of learners who carry weapons and drugs to school, and overworked teachers who find themselves having to take on the roles of social workers and counsellors. Domestic issues like sexual abuse sometimes float into the classroom. Bullying is prevalent, and due to social media does not end when the school bell rings.
Although some of these problems may be structural, according to a Daily Maverick op ed by Marlene Bruwer, who has documented her first week of teaching practice at a rural public school, some can be laid squarely at the door of demoralised teachers caught up in an entrenched culture of sloth and disinterest. What Bruwer encounters in her practicals is not just ‘a lack of resources alone, but something far more complex: a culture of disengagement, low expectations, and what seems like a pervasive resignation’.
Outside of the deeper structural inadequacies, she advocates for meaningful ‘attitudinal shifts’ in her placement school which, although receiving substantial funding, ‘has been allowed to deteriorate slowly’ and wallows in a culture of apathy and disinterest in which teachers are primarily complicit. Bruwer is particularly moved by an announcement that ‘representatives from the Western Cape Department of Education would be visiting the school to provide infant development support sessions for the many pregnant girls enrolled’.
‘The way this was communicated,’ she writes, ‘was routine, almost bureaucratic … but the reality it implied was deeply unsettling. The normalisation of teenage pregnancy at this scale is symptomatic of deeper structural challenges: poverty, inadequate access to sexual education and health care, and a lack of stable adult guidance. These girls are navigating the demands of adolescence and motherhood simultaneously, often in a school system that is not equipped to support either.’
Her observations, sadly, are nationwide. In 2020, it was reported that some 136 386 babies were delivered by girls between the ages of 10 to 19, a figure that had been growing year on year since 2017. Ironically, the Northern Cape, the least populated of the country’s provinces, had the highest rate of teenage pregnancy with 19.3% of girls in that age group giving birth between April 2020 and March 2021.
The country’s educational crises has also led to swatches of qualified teachers opting to teach abroad where, Bruwer says, she ‘saw consistent professionalism, preparedness and pride among educators. Classrooms were structured, routines were predictable and students were generally treated as capable of meeting high expectations.’
Bruwer’s experiences seem to corroborate Resep’s worrying findings. ‘When South Africa becomes less attractive,’ she writes, ‘not only to learners, but to its own educators, the long-term consequences are profound. We are not just losing people; we are losing momentum, aspiration and trust in the profession itself.’
The report also acknowledges that the wealthiest 15 per cent of schools (Quintile 5) are usually well resourced compared to their low-income (Quintile 1-3) counterparts, which often struggle to attract teachers. Interestingly, teachers in high-fee schools felt overworked and underpaid than those in no-fee or low-fee schools.
To find out the sentiments on the ground in this rural area, I interviewed three teachers: a young teacher working at a primary school in Colesberg; a retired primary school teacher with 35 years of experience who plied her trade both under apartheid and during the flowering of democracy; and a lecturer in the Technical and Vocational Education and Training (TVET) sector at one of the colleges in the Northern Cape. All three wished to remain anonymous, so they could be candid without the fear of reprisal.
Teacher 1: Active educator at a primary school
With just over a decade in the profession, she says she has never considered leaving. ‘With the country’s unemployment situation,’ she explains, ‘it would be hard to find a job offering similar security.’ She says the working conditions at her school are manageable. Despite isolated cases, general ill-discipline and learner violence are rare, and her colleagues try to create a pleasant working environment. However, she does admit to pressing but often neglected iniquities, chief of which is the prevalence of foetal alcohol syndrome among learners.
You can see the heavy drinking culture even among pregnant women in this town,’ she points out, ‘so how do you expect some of those kids to turn out?’ With limited resources, and lacking remedial recourse, teachers here are mostly left to do the best they can for affected learners.
Teacher 2: Retired primary school educator
Until five years ago, Mrs M was effectively part of the furniture at one of Colesberg’s primary schools. For around 35 years, and coming from the era of teaching colleges, she sees government’s shutting down of these institutions as the primary cause of the nation’s education problems. To her, these dedicated colleges were the backbone of education in the local townships, which have produced scores of competent educators over the years.
Secondly, she points to a dearth of a committed extra-curricular programme for learners in township schools. ‘In the past, there were after-school programmes for kids. They played sport and sang in school choirs, but that is now a dying and sometimes extinct tradition.’ To her, this severely stifles the overall development of learners.
Teacher 3: Lecturer at a TVET College
For this interviewee, it is mostly a glaring lack of planning and resources that makes her dissatisfied about her job. She has wanted to leave for a while. ‘The government does not buy enough resources for TVET colleges, because I have been working here for ten years now, and we don’t have a proper campus.’
Her daily routine involves a lot of walking between classes. There is no wi fi, only two photocopy machines, and no computers for lecturers, which means that she has to rely on the computers used by students. ‘In a way, you have to squeeze yourself in somewhere, because the resources are just not enough.’
Due to its location in a rural area, security at her college is not a major problem. But she is quick to point out that their campus is not fenced so anything can, and sometimes does, happen. For instance, wheel caps and mirrors have been removed from staff cars.
With the government seemingly failing to meet the challenges facing the education sector, academic reports like this one may be a saving grace. At least, they flesh out the problems that the authorities may not want citizens to hear.
Indeed, government reports in the sector tend to be self-praising fluff pieces that are more inclined to paint a flowery picture than to point out the problems, and ways of addressing them meaningfully. Take for instance the annual matric pass rates, which are yearly ridiculed by virtually all bodies except the department of basic education itself. Due to this shortcoming in addressing the issues confronting the system, it is no wonder that teachers want a quick exit.
However, due to current realities around employment, most are likely to remain stuck in a system from which they derive no job satisfaction.
FEATURED IMAGE: A class in progress in Sinenjongo High School, Slovo Park, Cape Town. (Wikimedia Commons)