Forbidden Knowledge

You may have heard on the news about the ongoing public servants' strike in South Africa. This national strike seems to mainly concern teachers. What they are asking is for an 8.6 percent pay rise. The government is offering 7 percent.
 I am beginning to hate those numbers.
 Today we arrived late at school at 8:20am. Out of our six Learning Leaders, only Sanele stood at the gate. He explained that Alex was ill with the flu, but had no explanation for the others.
 I dumped my bag in the staff-room and went back outside to talk with Sanele. But I couldn't stop looking over at the empty gate. My mouth tasted of fear and panic and disappointment. What about our fantastic start yesterday? The Team Agreement? Did it mean nothing? I swallowed hard. My teacher Richard Chattoe's mantra from the March 2009 visit was chanting in my head: 'Adapt. Adapt. Adapt.'
 We waited until 9:30am. Nobody else came.
 Jabu and I cleared a desk of textbooks in the staff-room and dusted it down. (It's incredible how fast things gain a thick layer of dust.) Sanele and I then spent a very pleasant morning discussing our brain cells (all one million millon of them), the left and right hemispheres of the brain and the main memory principles. Sanele is only sixteen but has a firm grasp of English and an admirable willingness to wrestle with the new concepts I was explaining to him. If what I have to teach only ever reached him and helped him, it would be worth it.
 But at about 11am another guy arrived. He looked very familiar. 'I know you,' I said. 'I remember you. Is your name Wonder?' The risk paid off because I had remembered correctly. He was one of the sixteen or so Mnyakanya learners who in July 2009 had the opportunity to be the first young people from the Nkandla region of KwaZulu Natal to visit the UK. I spent a wonderful few hours with this group on the eve of my Grade 8 piano exam.
 So now I had two eager minds at my disposal and a seventh Learning Leader. We were working happily when I got a summons to the Headmaster's office.
 'Yes, Mr. Dube?' I said cheerfully.
 'Sally, I am afraid things are going from bad to worse. This strike... I have just now had a phone-call from a principal at a neighbouring school who says that his few teachers and learners who were in the school have been driven out by the strikers. In the cities some teachers have been attacked. And just a few minutes ago we saw a car driving around outside and hooting its horn with people wearing red t-shirts [this is the uniform of the most aggressive of the unions]. I am afraid the situation is now becoming dangerous for us all. If they come in here they will not know that you are a visitor from England. They will think you are a teacher.'
 Mr. Dube suggested waiting until next Monday and seeing how the situation is by then. But I have only twenty precious days at the school and four of them are already gone. I can't bear to just sit at home tomorrow. I point out that there are so few learners that we don't need a school to work in. Somebody's home would do, we could study under a tree if we had to. Jabu offers a better idea.
 'What if I ask my friend for help? He is the pastor at the Lutheran church near the Litheli shop nearby. I think he would let us use the building, and the learners can come without uniforms.'
 In one way I cannot believe this is happening to me. Of all the bad timing! I am also staggered at how the situation can just keep getting worse. On Monday I thought it was bad, but now it looks like paradise. There were dozens of learners! Why didn't I start then? What is truly ironic is that the people who are trying to prevent me teaching are teachers themselves. Now we are forced to the lengths of arranging secret meetings to allow the illicit learning to take place.
 But in a stronger way, I'm discovering a stubborn streak of persistence that has never before been pushed so far, but is holding out under the pressure. I have come six thousand miles, I have important and study-enhancing information to impart and I will be damned if this strike is going to stop me.
 I always expected South Africa to be challenging - but not as challenging as this.