In
every generation people think what they are going through is the worst. Shakespeare (“A glooming peace this morning with it brings/The sun, for sorrow, will
not show his head/For never was a story of more woe”) felt so too.
The
First World War was called the “War to end all wars”. But World War II saw mechanised horrors from
the sky, fire bombs and death camps. Post-war brought killing fields in
Africa and Asia (“I love the smell of napalm in the morning”), cold war and escalation
to nuclear Armageddon.
In
South Africa, after apartheid, we beheld a brief period of promise and enlightenment
– the Mandela years – until quickly we lost the way, and went back to
recriminations and hate, that beast that lurks within us.
In
1995 South Africa’s Human Development Index was 0.741; in 2014 it was lower at 0.666. Counter-intuitively, during apartheid, it
rose from 0.66 in 1975 to 0.741 at the start of our democratic age.
So
there is some sympathy for the (fill in the blank)MustFall student protests, as
promises of a “better life for all” is an ironic joke at our expense by the
country’s Number One comedian who finds mirth in everything.
However,
the protests, demands and violent tantrums that closed universities last year
and this year are overdone, and students “protest too much”.
Today,
under democracy, students have “rights”.
They sit the same matriculation examinations. Many have access to the national students’ fund.
Admission to university is easier than pre-1994 because the standard, some say,
is lower. More places are available, no qualifying
student may be denied, and black students have a distinct advantage. Once they
graduate, many score high-paying jobs, and do not repay their NSFAS loans.
However,
the outrage of their protests would have us believe they are going through the
worst period in South Africa’s history.
Not
so long ago, during apartheid, black university students, with a lower standard
of schooling, competed for limited places against well-educated and well-funded
white students. The apartheid admission
system was hostile to discourage them from applying.
There
was no funding scheme, except limited bursaries only top students stood a
chance of winning. Many blacks felt
alienated at white universities, making a tough environment harder. When they graduated, finding a job was not
easy because of apartheid’s job reservation and preference for whites. It was very tough.
There
was also the Mordor-like dark cloud of apartheid that blanketed society in
terror and oppression.
Using
my figures, in the mid-80s the household income for a working or lower middle
class family was R10 000 or less and fees R3 000 (BSc
UCT) a year. Today, with comparably
better salaries, the same degree costs 20% of the same household’s income.
To
my protesting brothers, I sympathise with your plight. However, I know you are not
worse off than previous generations, but far better placed. You have rights and opportunities we did not
have – during apartheid, which you don’t remember because you were not born, we
had few.
You
are the privileged minority, but have no more rights than the taxpayer or unemployed
or poor to make demands that require “immediate” resolution. Yet your protests
carry such weight the usually truculent ruling party and president (#NotPayBackTheMoney)
quickly reconsidered and are willing to put the country further in debt to meet
your demands. Who will ultimately
pay? We all will, especially the poor.
You
made your point, and we appreciate you did.
But please use your intellectual gifts and the privilege society – the
rest of us – granted you to return to studies.
Once you’re working, repay what you’ve been given by helping us
find the road out of this dead-end, if it's still then possible.
Dark clouds are amassing once more.
Comments
Post a Comment