Read Online Starlight in the Ring by H. N. Quinnen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: H. N. Quinnen
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something, to stop it.”
“Mmh, I know; some of our heroes have tried, and died. We should always remember them. They died for our cause. Others are still fighting.”
“Betty, what’s our role in this?”
“What do you think, Lottie? We may not be able to reverse the past.”
“You’re right, Betty. But we could work to change our future, so that all South Africans live together peacefully. We must do this.”
“Of course, Lottie,” I agree, feeling the wetness of tears in my eyes. I can’t control myself. I cry alongside Lottie. We talk, comforting each other until we both fall asleep.
On Saturdays
Saturdays are ‘Manuals Days’. After breakfast, we all go to the hall. The prefects read names from their Offenders’ Books, while the Matron is standing in front with her whip. There are various means of punishment. Some children’s punishment is beating, cleaning the surroundings, bathrooms, toilets, scrubbing dormitory and hall floors, or sometimes two of the punishments together. So, the school doesn’t employ cleaners here.
On this particular Saturday, I am not lucky enough: the prefect calls my name, and reads my offences. “Betty Baker: unpolished shoes, sleeping during studies, and late for supper.” The matron says, “Five lashes and cleaning the surroundings.” I walk forward boldly, stretching the palm of my hand. She gives me five lashes. I don’t cry this time. I just go outside to collect the tools - wheelbarrow, spades and rakes. Three other girls join me. We sing as we clean up the surroundings, and then return the tools after that.
I enjoy my studies. Lottie and I make friends with Nancy Castle. She comes from Guguletu Township in Cape Town. I feel great to have friends who come from the townships near the cities. We stick and study together. We’re only allowed to go home during school holidays at Easter in April, winter in June and summer in December. Other opportunities for going home are possible when we owe books, school fees or boarding fees: Idon’t have these chances. My dad pays my fees on time from his advances. Baas Jimmie is very helpful in this way. God bless him.
* * *
I’ve been at Butterworth High School for some time, and have adapted well. As a responsible adult, I’ve learned to endure the pain inflicted during punishment. Some days are better than others: we do enjoy ourselves.
This Saturday evening, there’s some entertainment going on - a Beauty Contest. I’m not asked to compete, as certain height is required. Lottie and Nancy are in it. The competition starts at 7.00 p.m. with live music. It all goes quiet, and then fifteen contestants walk in, smartly dressed in short bright-red attires. All the girls are wearing high-heeled shoes, and glittery jewellery. They are almost the same height - a lot taller than I am – perhaps that’s why I wasn’t selected to participate. I stop my thoughts from drifting away from this activity.
The first girl appears, and we all clap hands for her. Other children stand up to get a clear view of all the contestants, as they parade in the hall. They all walk, and stop, each with a different pose. Spectators are asked to encourage them with another round of applause. They are all beautiful, I think, but my eyes are on my friends, Lottie and Nancy. I want them to win. It’s Nancy’s turn.
She comes out wearing a big smile, and having an authoritative walk. She poses in all the corners, and then disappears into the dressing room. Other girls also reappear to parade. Then Lottie walks out confidently in an unusual style in comparison to Nancy; she walks, swerving her shoulders to the centre of the hall, kisses her hand, show the audience a ‘big five’ before waving to all of us, including the judges at their table. She has a big crowd cheering her up. We are invited to dance while the judges are deliberating. The city girls do various dances, and arebetter than me. I copy them as if I’m a dancer. The music
“Mmh, I know; some of our heroes have tried, and died. We should always remember them. They died for our cause. Others are still fighting.”
“Betty, what’s our role in this?”
“What do you think, Lottie? We may not be able to reverse the past.”
“You’re right, Betty. But we could work to change our future, so that all South Africans live together peacefully. We must do this.”
“Of course, Lottie,” I agree, feeling the wetness of tears in my eyes. I can’t control myself. I cry alongside Lottie. We talk, comforting each other until we both fall asleep.
On Saturdays
Saturdays are ‘Manuals Days’. After breakfast, we all go to the hall. The prefects read names from their Offenders’ Books, while the Matron is standing in front with her whip. There are various means of punishment. Some children’s punishment is beating, cleaning the surroundings, bathrooms, toilets, scrubbing dormitory and hall floors, or sometimes two of the punishments together. So, the school doesn’t employ cleaners here.
On this particular Saturday, I am not lucky enough: the prefect calls my name, and reads my offences. “Betty Baker: unpolished shoes, sleeping during studies, and late for supper.” The matron says, “Five lashes and cleaning the surroundings.” I walk forward boldly, stretching the palm of my hand. She gives me five lashes. I don’t cry this time. I just go outside to collect the tools - wheelbarrow, spades and rakes. Three other girls join me. We sing as we clean up the surroundings, and then return the tools after that.
I enjoy my studies. Lottie and I make friends with Nancy Castle. She comes from Guguletu Township in Cape Town. I feel great to have friends who come from the townships near the cities. We stick and study together. We’re only allowed to go home during school holidays at Easter in April, winter in June and summer in December. Other opportunities for going home are possible when we owe books, school fees or boarding fees: Idon’t have these chances. My dad pays my fees on time from his advances. Baas Jimmie is very helpful in this way. God bless him.
* * *
I’ve been at Butterworth High School for some time, and have adapted well. As a responsible adult, I’ve learned to endure the pain inflicted during punishment. Some days are better than others: we do enjoy ourselves.
This Saturday evening, there’s some entertainment going on - a Beauty Contest. I’m not asked to compete, as certain height is required. Lottie and Nancy are in it. The competition starts at 7.00 p.m. with live music. It all goes quiet, and then fifteen contestants walk in, smartly dressed in short bright-red attires. All the girls are wearing high-heeled shoes, and glittery jewellery. They are almost the same height - a lot taller than I am – perhaps that’s why I wasn’t selected to participate. I stop my thoughts from drifting away from this activity.
The first girl appears, and we all clap hands for her. Other children stand up to get a clear view of all the contestants, as they parade in the hall. They all walk, and stop, each with a different pose. Spectators are asked to encourage them with another round of applause. They are all beautiful, I think, but my eyes are on my friends, Lottie and Nancy. I want them to win. It’s Nancy’s turn.
She comes out wearing a big smile, and having an authoritative walk. She poses in all the corners, and then disappears into the dressing room. Other girls also reappear to parade. Then Lottie walks out confidently in an unusual style in comparison to Nancy; she walks, swerving her shoulders to the centre of the hall, kisses her hand, show the audience a ‘big five’ before waving to all of us, including the judges at their table. She has a big crowd cheering her up. We are invited to dance while the judges are deliberating. The city girls do various dances, and arebetter than me. I copy them as if I’m a dancer. The music
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