Long hair again (full circle).

I’ve got long hair again, you know, a symbol of artistic expression. Look man, I’ve always been an artist and I have used dreadlocks as an avenue to express that outlet before. When I was in high school, junior years, I started making the investment, I liked them loose but I had to conform to the schools rules, you know, God governments hand reaches everywhere, you have no other option but to conform. I made it difficult for them, I used to plait wild hairstyles, teachers would ask me “Why don’t you plait the normal way?” I would laugh and shrug it off. I would get called to the Principal’s office often and most times I won. I had creative stories. It was my encounter with authority and the Principal was a great guy, who just wanted you to conform. I mean you are representing the school, like be professional man. I remember one time, things were heated, I knew they would want to assert their authority, so I intercepted it like Busquets, I forged a letter allegedly from my mother that made references that she was a Sangoma and I couldn’t cut off my dreadlocks. All lies, deception, I made it all up. I wanted to test him, his skin color was different to mine, I wanted to confuse him. He responded “But this is not a Sangoma school and you must obey”. I was like okay, fair, I started doing hairstyles that were demeable by their standards. The office started being a dark place for me. It was poisoned and contaminated. Even the office ladies were in it telling me “Why don’t you do the right things”? They had plenty of time to see me in the office. I was always there. I was the class captain, so I helped them with the administration aspects of the job, I was also the U14 soccer coach so I made a lot announcements, I was a regular in the Principal’s office. I didn’t have a problem with Mrs. Ras and Miss. Nkabinde (deputy principals), they were like mothers to me, God bless, it was homely. I remember the office lady was fed up and wanted to show me my mortality, it was a do or die proposition, 3 months before RCL elections. She appealed to me and asked “How are you going to be an RCL with that hair?”, not surprising I was back to my old creative ways, Mohawk deadlock hairstyle, she continued “Just do the right thing”. She wanted the RCL gig for me. That was a magical moment. I stopped and started contemplating things. What are they seeing that I am not? We were too familiar, our interaction was real, it was directly aimed at me and it came with a lot of love. Things would be better for me I thought. I would redefine myself again. It’s an opportunity, I thought. These women are taking care of me, let it happen, yield. The next Monday I was a different man, I cut off my dreadlocks. Difficult decision but it needed to be done. When the office lady saw me for the first time that morning, she lighted up like a Christmas tree and cheered with delight. Everyone else came out and they saw a different man. The looks on their faces were great. It was beautiful. They didn’t say much but they were glad I made the decision. I was too. Things started opening up for me and not surprisingly I became an RCL, it was great, everyone loved me again in the office, I was in heaven. My two friends whom I did the OPI concert with, quit the job after a couple of weeks but it was their problem, I made it abundantly clear with them. Fuck them, let them quit, fools, I am staying here, my life is good. People who never had a “why? “. We have different paths gentlemen, I wish you all the best. I stayed on and fulfilled my tasks and responsibilities. I wanted to serve my peers, it was an honor. My decision to stay on made me more popular in the office, it was my school, but undercover, don’t let them see, subtle dominance, don’t expose yourself. I had Intel on the whole school, the office, the ground people for my soccer, the teachers, the deputies, the principal and the headgirl of course. I even got a certificate for being the “most helpful”, it is by far my best certificate because it came from a real place, it wasn’t about academics, it was “thanks, I appreciate your help”, it was warm, it had a special touch, it was personalized, the teacher (Mr. Pitseng) was filled with gratitude and enthusiasm, I accepted in kind. Mr. Pitseng was great.

I laughed when the whole Question paper saga happened. It was so obvious, everyone involved was a fool, they were expedient, no emotional intelligence whatsoever, they just swallow the marshmallow while the examiner is still in the room. Their headboy was caught, clearly guilty, I laughed, I told everyone that he wasn’t right to lead. It was a PR disaster, tabloids were fed, the fool headboy spoiled things for everyone, the RCLs didn’t have a farewell party, we were all branded a waste because of the actions of one stupid boy. They stripped him off his title and confiscated his green blazer, the chair was disgraced. His picture was taken off at the office. There was no headboy now. Just a headgirl, she’s strong, she’s smart, she can handle this, Miss top of the pyramid, netball top goalscorer, best in the district, the Robert Lewandowski of netball, culture, the Harriet Khoza of the school, The Queen. I was surrounded by a lot of resources and infrastructure, I was friendly with a lot of teacher’s, they liked me, I preferred the older guys to my peers, they were more real and my interactions with them were hearty, the teaching never stopped in the classroom, they taught me about life outside school, I took the role of the active learner and I absorbed everything like a sponge. I was happy, it was great. I loved school.

Things have come back full circle, I have my dreadlocks again and I listened, which made my life better. Thank you to the good people of Rhodesfield Technical High in that period, everyone was great, the teachers, the quality, the office, the grounds men, it was great. I had the best time of my life there, I learned a lot. Mr. Dzumba was incredible! Mr. Dzumba taught me so much about life, it was deep, it was spiritual, some lessons were on the field, he taught me about winning, he was a winner! He taught me about intensity, commitment, apply yourself, have the best people by your side, keep them motivated and allocate yourselves based on your skills and talents. Be analytical, 4-4-2 is the most neutral and balanced system young man, get the best players for these positions and man management from there onwards – classic. I remember our Maths teacher (Mrs. Sebokwane) once advised a handful of us “When you go out into the world, don’t let them change you. You are perfect the way you are”. I know right, such great advice. Mrs. Sebokwane was the ultimate mother figure, I loved her classes even though I was horrible at Maths. Not surprisingly, her netball team was the best in the district. Her girls were competitive, athletic and dominant. They would have undefeated streaks and they had a strong crowd. Every morning after match day, the principal would read out their results on the quad and they would win by huge margins every time, their results always got a reaction from the school, the school was only interested in their results. I loved watching the netball girls play, it was watching greatness play, from defense to attack, they were so swift, so fluid, so calibrated, so fast and lethal – every offense was a goal. I was so proud of the netball girls.

I remember when my Arts & Culture teacher put my poster on display in her class for a group activity task. My classmates were deadweight and didn’t show enthusiasm for the project, so I did it alone. I mastered calligraphy and added a lot of content to my poster. I used sand as my border, I put glue on all sides and I filtered the sand on the sides. I tried to make it as creative as possible and at the same time minimalist and devoid of color. I was put on the wall with the best from other classes. Every morning I saw my poster, I was proud.

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