South Africa – Day 15, The Bergendal School Day 2 and Flakte Brick Farm

Today we started off at the Bergendal School with the normal ritual of devotion and morning meeting. I am slightly struck and pleasantly pleased that the day starts with the teachers gathered together at a table listening to a devotion, a prayer, and a thought for the day. However perfunctory this might feel, I think its an important part of the day when you are often facing such difficult circumstances.

Its raining and cold today. The rain is hard at times, and many of the children walk to school. Attendance is low on days like this, but many learners arrive and stand outside in the rain waiting for school to start. The siren sounds to call them to order and they all stand in their lines for an Our Father before scurrying off to their classrooms. What I am most struck by today is the orderly fashion in which they proceed. It reminds me that circumstances don’t necessarily determine the child or the child’s future. Some children find a way to succeed against all odds.

I decided that today I just want to sit in a classroom and observe the teaching styles and techniques of Bergendal’s teachers, and Florina and I head off to her math class with the 9th graders. The learners enter the cold class very orderly and take their seats. They sit quietly and they listen to their teacher intently. At first they appear as though they are not interested in the basic algebra lesson, but within 10 minutes they are more and more engaged. Their desire to learn for me is without question. As I listen to the sounds of the learners responding to the teacher's questions over the sound of pouring rain, I am reminded of how privileged a profession teaching is. It is not privileged because you make lots of money, and achieve great status from being a teacher, its privileged because you have the opportunity to mold and shape young minds and to perhaps help a child to achieve her/his dreams. As the rain comes down harder, the learners disengage a little and begin to chat as 15 year olds do. Though I don’t understand Afrikaans, my impression of Florina is that she is a thoughtful and knowledgeable teacher. My conversations with her yesterday ensure me that she is concerned about the well being of these young people.

The teacher steps out for a minute and the learners fall into disorder, but it is not the Hollywood- Dangerous Minds disorder that people tend to associate with poor disadvantaged students. I am continually struck by the feeling that these are just regular kids.

As I sit here in class typing notes, I am reminded of how cold the class is by the temperature of my fingertips. 9:30am and some of the children are summoned to eat. They eat as food is ready today so only a small group eats at first. The meal, bread covered in some kind of porridge. It doesn’t look appetizing, but they seem to enjoy it. Eating is a necessary disruption.

Next we visited Flakte Brick Farm to give some rations to the families there. This is a farm where all 48 of the families living there have lost their jobs. The families that work on many of the farms live in little “villages” on the estates.



It is reminiscent of the quarter communities that African slaves lived in on American plantations. Some of the children from Bergendal school live in the village at Flakte Brick Farm. A lady named Rhoda met us at the village and she took me around. When she led us into the first house, I was speechless. I was told that the conditions there were horrible, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw there. Four families live in each house. The house is actually more like a room. In fact my living room at home has more space than one of these houses. The house is made of brick with concrete floors. There is no plumbing, no heat, no air conditioning, and the people sleep on mats or old dirty comforters. There are 3 Porta-Potties that serve all 48 families and a “hall” with a tap where they go to fetch water for baths, clothes washing, drinking, etc.



There is a pit in each house where the 4 families must burn wood for heat.



The kitchen, where one of the four families lives, is a hotplate… that’s it… a hotplate on a makeshift table.



I looked over at the fire pit in the house I visited and there was one of the bright faced little boys I had met at school the day before. He had stayed home because he was sick, and there he was standing in front of a fire pit shivering. That really brought it home for me. How is a kid able to bring himself to go to school 6 kilometers away on the back of a pickup truck with 20 other kids when he lives in these conditions? How does he find the strength to hope when he lives in squalor?





The ladies told me that everyone in the village has TB… the men told me that no one has a job, and the owner cheated them out of their severance when the business went sour… no one has a car… what worried me the most was that no one had any hope. The women told me that they “couldn’t leave because of the children.” I told them that they “couldn’t stay because of the children.” They said, “OK, where do we go?” I have no answer… No answer… and my heart is breaking… They showed me around a little more… I talked to them about hope, but I knew the needed money and food… they don’t even have enough money to leave… I was overwhelmed… I fought back the tears as we drove away from that place…

Somehow I ended up walking about the campus having chats with students who were mingling about, still thinking about Flakte Brick, and I bumped into a little ray of chocolate sunshine named Abigail. She said, “Hi sir! When are you coming to our class?” She told me that she was in grade 5, and I said I would visit ASAP. I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up and she said “a singer.” So, of course I asked for a song. After a few minutes of blushing and indecision, she grabbed my arm and said, “I’m ready sir.”
Then she stole my heart with a song. After I hugged her and did my best to encourage her and the other 5th graders, I hurried off to lunch.

We had a nice lunch again with the staff at and a spirited conversation about the poverty in places like Flakte Brick Farm. I finished the school day in the computer lab before Ms. Thomas took us around to the Flatse… This is the slang name for the informal settlements and the schemes (projects) in town… SmartyTown, SpookieTown, Kingstontown, Fairy Land, Chester Williams Town, etc… The level of poverty is beyond belief. Its just more than you can imagine, and yet some people, like Ms. Thomas and her husband have managed to escape it.

It was an incredibly emotional day capped off by dinner at Martha’s, excellent conversation with Randal (Ms. Thomas’ husband, a special education teacher), and great fellowship again. I’m so happy that the teachers brought us into their homes. They really made us feel like family.


Written by Frederick A Hanna