RCL | antakalipa

Senzile

Easily the greatest of all time. Definitely in my top 5. I first heard of her in the 8th grade. One of my niggas had a little something on her, a crush, something mythical, he saw something amazing in her. I was like “okay”, I mean the nigga was confiding in me but I’d still hadn’t seen her. Besides, I didn’t care, I didn’t care about anything. Then grade 8 camp happened and I was with my nigga and he saw her, he lost his mind, he couldn’t take it anymore, this girl was driving him crazy, he asked me to accompany him. “Sure” I responded, I wanted to help. I would play his number 5 in case one of her overzealous friends tried to void the mission, plus there was a lot of traffic, it was rush hour, busy and all the grade 8’s were on one location. I remember she had on a greenish-blueish shirt that had a lot of signatures and messages, I figured that shirt was the result of her last day in Primary. Her hair was braided. He went up to her and said “Hi, can we talk?” she responded, “talk”, he froze like a statue. His confidence was false. I saw her and okay, grade 8 had a lot of options. It was diverse. It had 10 grade 8 classes and these beauties were from everywhere, she was just a drop in the ocean. My nigga couldn’t recover, he looked at me and signaled let’s go. I respected him, at least he did something, the universe will reward him for those actions, it wasn’t the time nor with Senzile, nah, not her, she’s top quality, high value – composure, composure know yourself; You can’t be expedient with her. Then on the 10th grade, I was in the “A” class with Senzile. She started on A and ended on A. I started on “I” and made it to “A” – make incremental progress. I got to understand her energy and aura. But my thoughts were not on girls, my thoughts were on being the U14 soccer coach, I was diligent and professional and I was rewarded. My peers never really interested me. Then 11th grade happened, we were elected as RCLs, it was great, siyabagena, let’s do right things guys, we had a camp, but before camp in the morning, we had to do our RCL stuff, we came in our civilian clothing, other people took this thing serious and bought new clothes for this ocassion, Italian clothes, designer bags, it was us, “God governments best”. I came in with flip-flops, no big deal, I didn’t want to strain myself, I was tired of Toughies, I wanted a break from being constrained. Then I saw Senzile that day and I remembered my niggas voice saying “Eish, Senzile boy”, she was radiating and illuminating, bright, blinding, outstanding, the body was the best. She stole the show like load-shedding, it wasn’t even a contest, she was the light that put Eskom to shame. I was appalled at the schools uniform, it hid a lot of things, to be honest we all looked the same, we wore the same things, brown shoes, brown socks, brown trousers, mustard shirt, brown tie, brown jersey, brown blazer just brown everything, no skirts, we all looked like turds. Undoubtedly Senzile was a 10, my nigga was right, suddenly I understood the hype, he was right. I asked myself which girls I had been taking for granted because they were well hidden by the uniform or because of my ignorance. I started seeing her differently. I looked at my Blackberry and went straight to my BBM, and she was already a contact, one of five people, I kept it small, there’s more quality that way. I congratulated myself, somehow I’d been working unconsciously to get her for a long time. She drove me crazy like Lewis Hamilton with a banging body like Mercedes-Benz. I thought about her so much that I could manifest her in my map, of course within the confines of the school. She was perfect. She was beautiful. She was great. The straight “A” girl, she would always sit in the first row of Physics class. You had to earn your sit, you got on the first row by merit, by working your butt off, by being the best. Just to give you some perspective, I always sat in the third row, not quite the end, but very close. I didn’t like Science, the teacher didn’t have enthusiasm. It wasn’t just in her academics where she ruled. She played in the famous netball team that dominated the district. She played defense. She was like the World Cup winning Goalkeeper, Manuel Neuer (Germany’s greatest goalkeeper of all time), a wall, impenetrable, solid, vacuumed, reinforced. On top of that she was a master at interception, she would pass the ball with accuracy and with great speed, giving the ball to midfield, who would give it to attack and just like that the move was finished. Deadly like a coiled viper! The netball team often dominated the opposition by constant offensive tactics, they had a relentless rigor, but I liked their counter-attacks better because she started them. I fell in love with her. I willed myself to tell her. I was always so nervous. I convinced myself that today I am gonna do it but today became like all the other days. Days became weeks, weeks became months and finally a year. Everyday was the same. On a positive note, I got to know a lot of things about her, my chats with her on BBM were active, I knew her times, her routes and where she chilled. And then one day I thought “enough is enough” I am going to tell her, this time I was dead serious I just needed the tiniest first step to take. I went to Festival Mall that day afterschool, I went to CNA, I wanted to see what books they had. Then I saw the answer in my face. Yellow paper, it was R20, I had R50, so it was perfect. I bought it. A plan crystallized, write a poem for her and buy her a Chocolate. I wrote a poem and tried to incorporate all the things she liked. I bought a chocolate and I had plans of at least giving her a presentation at first break. I failed at first break but convinced myself that I’d do it second break. I failed again. I don’t know what made it so hard. My last chance was after school, at least give her the poem and the chocolate, you already bought it, you want it to melt, or worse, you wanna eat it? No, you can’t eat it, that would be pathetic and sad. Those were my thoughts. I had to quit being a coward. What’s wrong with me? I was anxious and then the final bell rang for afterschool. I looked at her, she was with her friends and I let her be. They walked away. I couldn’t do it, my nerves got the better of me, it was difficult. I gave myself a hard and brutal talk, it needed to be done and then I risked it all. I rushed after her, she was a long way off, she was approaching Kempton Park and I was still in Rhodesfield. I ran to bridge the distance and asked for a couple of minutes with her. Her friends gave us space, I will forever appreciate that action. They made things easier for me. I gave her the poem and the chocolate and we walked. I told her how I felt about her. The energy was the best. I was nervous but everything flowed like a stream of water. She was blushing but interactive. It was a great day but more importantly, I respected myself. Senzile helped steer the trajectory of my life in a positive direction, fear died that day, I became a man, no excuses “no matter what, today she will know how I feel”.

I was talking with a friend of mine about the girls who used to attend school with us, the friend was in the same class with me. He gave me his observations and desetations. To be fair, his list was good. The girls he was talking about were quality. But I looked at his number 1 and I was concerned. I asked “her number 1? Sure she’s hot but number 1? Remember we are talking about the greatest.” I continued. He shifted the question to me and I responded with no hesitations, “Senzile”, his eyes sparkled like a diamond, I was right. He didn’t argue with me, Senzile ticked all the boxes in our value system and more. He said, “You are right. Senzile is the greatest.”. And just like that, abruptly, our conversation was over.

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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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