School is "Fun"

The very first thing I remember about school is that I didn't want to be there. On the thirty first of December I turned five but the little country school needed another teacher and to get that they also needed another pupil. That is why I was in school barely after I turned five.

Everything was alright in the beginning. We had an enormous teacher, Miss Van Niekerk, who also became friends with my parents. I suppose it wasn't just because of everything that had happened between me and the teacher. My older sister was also in the same school.

Then came the Easter holiday – only ten days, mind – and our cousins came to visit. I couldn't concentrate on anything. My mind was continually at home with them. So on the second day I decided I'd rather be at home than with Miss Van Niekerk.

During the first break I packed my schoolbag and left. No one saw me leaving because I climbed through the fence at the back and walked home – something like two kilometers. My mother wasn't pleased to see me, but she called the school to tell them I was safe at home. She also decided I was still too young for school.

The next year I was back, and I had no excuse to slip through the back fence to go home. But I was older then and a little smarter. Teachers, I discovered, had eyes in the back of their heads just like my mother, but teachers were also notoriously unfair. They also had favourites, and looking back now I would say I wasn't Miss Van Niekerk's favourite.

There was a little boy with me in the same class, Sakkie. Now Sakkie wasn't the sharpest pencil in the school, and he was extremely restless ... restless being a very forgiving term for his tricks. He was looking for trouble and as I was sitting just across the aisle from him, he targeted me.

"This means war!"

When Miss Van Niekerk wasn't looking, he threw all sorts of things at me. He took my lunch, took my eraser and kept it for himself, and so forth. While he was doing his best to make me angry, I was planning to get back at him. The straw that broke the camel's back though, was when Sakkie took my colouring pencils and snapped two of them.

That was a clear declaration of war. Out of sheer desperation I kicked him on his shin. He gasped from pain and when he turned to me, I could see murder in his eyes. He didn't like to be thwarted, but he knew he couldn't do anything to me right there. When recess came I took my ruler in my hand ... just for in case. Teacher was just out of the classroom when he grabbed my pencils and started snapping them, all the time yelling at me that he will show me!

I was never someone to just let things go, and this destructive little boy needed to be taught a lesson. He was a little taller than me, but it didn't deter me at all. I forgot that Miss Van Niekerk was just outside the classroom, all I saw was this pestering boy who broke all my colouring pencils and simply wouldn't stop.

Without thinking I smacked him with the ruler on his butt as hard as I could. The little coward turned and ran, but he couldn't get out of the classroom because the teacher was blocking the door. She came back when the commotion started. So around and around we went through the room, him screaming at the top of his voice for someone to help him, and me with a develish determined look on my face I am sure.

Suddenly he tripped over a schoolbag and fell with his face on the edge of a table. He was really hurt. His screams brought on by me chasing him was nothing compared to those that followed. Before my eyes his lip started swelling. I was amazed at the speed at which it happened so I didn't see that Miss Van Niekerd moving towards me who was still holding the ruler in my hand and Sakkie yelling blue murder.

"What did you do!" Miss Van Niekerk asked me angrily.

"He wouldn't stop! He broke my colouring pencils, Miss!"

"He started it, dammit!"

But she wasn't listening. She saw trouble with Sakkie's parents and I was the cause of it. So I had to be disciplined ... and I was determined not to be. I turned and scurried around the nearest table with teacher on my heels. Fortunately her size made it difficult for her to move quickly and I was a thin, wiry chit of a girl – fast on her feet. Around and around went went, me always in front and her chasing after me.

"Stop running!" she eventually panted, completely out of breath, and holding onto the back of a chair.

I stopped and looked at her warily.

"He broke my colouring pencils ... " I repeated, but that didn't help.

I was sent to the headmaster and my parents were called, and I can't remember if I got a hiding, but what stayed with me all these years is that Sakkie got away scot-free for all the damage that he had done.

From that day forth I never trusted people again. If something can happen right in front of your eyes and you punish the victim, you are not to be trusted. And I was right in my assumption that no person is to be trusted. Today, in this country where anyone in the judicial system can be bribed, it is a good thing not to trust anyone.

The sad thing though is that a child has to learn that lesson at such a young age. It's no wonder we have such an uncaring society today. Situations like this leaves a deep imprint on any young mind, and perhaps teachers all over the world should remember that.