When I woke up the following morning, I found the trees swaying from left to right, dust particles knocking on the windows, clouds with a grey-black colour ready to pour its tears on the ground, and that was the grand entrance of Monday morning.

As I was getting ready to go to school, the morning breeze found its way to my skin, making it easy for the harvest of chicken skin. The warmth of the black tea that my grandmother had made for me with the help of the fire wood, prevented my body from shaking as a result of the cold weather. We had had a blackout the previous night, so the candle light helped us to see during the dark morning. My shadow embraced and defined me as I was getting up to pour more tea in my cup. As I was walking, I realised that I had to act and be like my shadow: huge, big, and astronomical. I was like a cat seeing itself as a lion, or, rather, a lioness.

When I got to school later that morning, everything was normal, until I got in Mr Swart’s class by mistake, that is. He shared the same classroom with Ms Jonker, my mathematics teacher, because Mr Swart’s classroom had been invaded with by wasps. I had read the timetable wrong, and I was not supposed to be in Ms Jonker’s class. Instead, I was supposed to be in the accounting class.

“Well, well, well, look who’s here,” Mr Swart said with a grin on his face.

“Excuse me, I got into the wrong class,” I said with sweat of fear on my forehead.

“Mistakes are always expected with people like you. First of all, look around this class. Do you see the difference?” Mr Swart said while heading towards my direction with his finger pointing to his students, who, in turn, were laughing wickedly at me. “You don’t belong here, shame. What don’t you get? You’re black, so there’s just no space for you here,” he said with a one sided smile, showing no guilt about what he was saying.

Instead of responding, I quickly went out of the class and took out the baby tissues I had in my bag. I then wiped off my sweat and tried holding back my tears. I knew I was going to speak up and stand for what was right sooner or later, but the laughter of the students in Mr Swart’s so called classroom made me feel powerless and worthless.

After wiping off my sweat, I ran so quickly to the accounting lesson that you would have thought I belonged to the jaguar family. While I was running, my left leg got caught between a hollow space, which resulted in my dreadful fall. My knee had a bad cut as a result of the fall, but I could not afford to be late, so I kept going. I continued running, even though I was limping as a result of the fall. When I got to the stairs, I started hopping with one foot so I could climb without gradually hurting my injured knee, and I eventually made it to the class.

“Sorry, ma’am, I know I’m late,” I said as was entering Ms Rose’s classroom.

While I was speaking, Ms Rose’s eyes scanned my body from head to toe, like a neutron scanner detecting any harmful objects. “Sure,” she said.

Ms Rose’s answer surprised me, but I figure that my knee and the endless breathing I was having helped me that day. As I was about to sit down, I saw our test papers on her desk, and I remembered that it was result day that day. Three weeks prior, we had written an accounting test. I had studied very hard for it, and I had even studied through the night on consecutive days, even though we had blackouts. In those days, the candle was, literally, my saviour and light.

After sitting down, I placed my hand on the position of my heart while the teacher was giving us the results. All I could think of at that time was Gogo Sophie. She had invested so much into my education, and I knew that I had to show her that the money was not going to waste.

“Thandeka!” Ms Rose called out, and my heart pounded faster and faster. Her face was neutral, so I could not tell if she was happy or not. “83%, good one, and keep up with the good work,” she said with a smile, and I was extremely proud of myself.

83%, and I was top of the class. It is true what they say: hard work does pay off.

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Tell us: What do you think needs to be done with teachers who are racist to their learners like Mr Swart?