Jo'Burg Days: What The Headmaster Did
Barbara Durlacher tells an inspirational story of what a man with a dream can achieve. The story is based on the experience of one of Barbara’s friends who was on a tour of the Zulu battlefields in Natal. Barbara, who felt compelled to tell this story, has not used the head's real name.
“Your bacon and eggs Madam,” the waiter said, removing the empty cereal plates. Around the table, the others were tucking in, with lashings of hot toast, coffee, tea and all the trimmings. Then there was a break in conversation as the tour leader clapped her hands for silence.
“Folks: sorry to interrupt your meal, but I want to introduce this gentleman to you. His name is Ifran Sulibar and he is the headmaster of the local primary school. He would like us to visit his school. He has something wonderful to show us. So, as soon as you’ve finished, we’ll drive over.”
Arriving there, the group found the children waiting. Bright-eyed and eager, even the poorest wore his uniform with pride. They stood in the hot sun ready to perform and when the leader clapped his hands, as one, the children burst into song, harmonising effortlessly. When the singing was finished, the group followed the headmaster; the children crowding behind. First the head showed them the neat classrooms. “The children clean these themselves every day,” he said, “We never have to tell them to do it, they’re so proud of their school and what we’ve achieved here, it’s a labour of love”. They walked through the school, admiring the hall with its stage and the patched curtains and clean, swept floor, the few donated musical instruments, and the limited sports equipment.
A small building tacked onto the main structure was the kitchen where a team of village women chatted noisily as they worked, preparing chickens and half a sheep; cooking huge pots of mealie meal and a large pile of vegetables. “We feed nearly 200 children a day,” the headmaster said in response to queries, “Yes, it’s a big expense, but the local shopkeepers donate. They’re very generous, and some of the farmers have agreed to give us their surplus. It’s better for the children to eat one good meal a day, than for them to go without and be too hungry to learn. The children are healthier and the incidence of AIDS and HIV is lower in this school than anywhere in the district. Everyone benefits.”
“Come outside,” he continued, “I want to show you the vegetable garden.” Ahead we saw neat rows of mealies and beans, tomatoes, huge pumpkins, clumps of onions and rows of potatoes. Everything was flourishing, lovingly tended by the young pupils. They diligently hoed and dug, watered and harvested this wonderful creation of one man’s vision and industry.
“How did you, one man, achieve all this?” one of the group asked the headmaster. “Well, I had a dream. So I appealed to the community at large asking them for donations of anything they could spare for the school. I wanted to help these destitute children. Most of the kids come from one-parent families, some don’t have any parents, as AIDS is very bad in the townships, and many of the kids are bringing up younger brothers and sisters.
“They needed help, and so I spoke to the local people. I visited the hotel and chatted to the men in the bar and the ladies in the cocktail lounge; I went to the shebeen and talked to the men and women drinking there; to the supermarket where I talked to the manager. I asked him to let me have spoilt fruit and vegetables. We use whatever we can and every day we cook a nourishing meal for the children. I asked some of the men with building experience to help me fix up the school buildings, and gradually, all working together, we got the ball rolling.”
“Fantastic!” one man called as spontaneous clapping broke out.
The headmaster continued, “Then I drove to the nearest big town and spoke to the manager of the biggest business and told him what we were doing. He took me to the local newspaper offices. A reporter interviewed me and wrote a big story which was taken up by the national dailies. That was when the contributions really started coming. Someone from Eskom arrived and arranged an electricity connection, and as soon as we had electricity we had donations of computers from a firm in Johannesburg. And so it goes, it’s like a wonderful snowball, once it gets rolling, it just gets bigger and bigger. Now I’m going to involve two other schools in the area and see if we can get them up to the same stage that we are here.”
“Well, that’s about all I can tell you now,” he concluded, “We’re waiting for somebody from the government in Pretoria to arrive today. That’s why the women are so busy, they’re cooking up a feast for the big-wigs. But the children will get their lunch as usual, nobody will go hungry.”
“We have to get ready to welcome these people, as I want to impress them and get them to give us proper financial support. Now they know that it can be done, other schools must learn from this model, and soon, all across the country, we’ll have well-fed children able to learn. They’ll be leaving school with decent Matric passes, ready to take their places in a stable society.”
What a wonderful example of selfless humanity and leadership. If one dedicated “teddy-bear” of an Indian schoolmaster can do this, it seems strange that others cannot achieve the same.
Of course, his initiative and skill in spotting an opportunity did not go unnoticed, and by the time we left, the headmaster was given a substantial sum of money as a salute to his achievement.
