Being born in the sticks shouldn't be a life sentence

Share current article via Email Share current article via Facebook Share current article via Twitter Share current article via LinkedIn A rural high school in central KwaZulu-Natal has been described as an accident waiting to happen after a classroom there collapsed at the weekend. Picture: SUPPLIED The recent launch of the Clement Manyathela Foundation was not the destination. It was the beginning of a journey to open pathways and shape futures for rural children. We talk philosophically about children being the future, then betray the very obligation that phrase was supposed to carry. If children were truly the future, we would not wait until they are violated and derailed from their destinies before we care. We would not wait until they reach university — often by the skin of their teeth — before we introduce them to possibility. We would not wait until they are unemployed before we explain the world of work. Nor would we wait until a child is in crisis before we ask whether they are emotionally well. We would begin earlier if we truly believed children are our future. There is a greater need for psychosocial support and career guidance in rural areas across the length and breadth of South Africa. I honestly never thought, 17 or so years ago after leaving high school for university, that this would still be the case. But it is. Pupils in rural areas carry trauma that goes unattended for years, and sometimes a lifetime. Extreme poverty, violence at home, and experiences they have no language for are all met with silence. They have no outlet nor healthy escape routes. They don't have anyone to talk to. Yes, some teachers hold space for pupils who are facing challenges, but not every child is comfortable to speak to their teacher about what they are going through. And not all teachers are equipped to help or support them. That is after all, not a role they are mandated to fulfill as educators. They are part of the same work, because a child who is emotionally depleted cannot always hear career advice. Many pupils in rural areas have never even been exposed to a career counsellor. Again, teachers do the best they can. However, many pupils to this day go through high school with no idea what they want to study post that phase or what options are available to them. Some pupils from my former high school Hlalakahle, in Vaalbank, Mpumalanga, don't even know what the National Student Financial Aid Scheme is — let alone its ability to change the trajectory of their entire families, as intended. Some don't even know that their passions can be turned into serious professional careers. This is why we have developed an alternative strategy. A rural, school-based strategy that sees children in full: their minds, their wounds, their dreams and the distance between potential and opportunity. One that understands that psychosocial support, mentorship and career guidance are not separate interventions. They are part of the same work, because a child who is emotionally depleted cannot always hear career advice. A child who has never been exposed to opportunity cannot always imagine a future. A child who has never had a mentor may not know what is possible. A child without resources may know exactly what they want but have no bridge to reach it. My former high school, Hlalakahle, is a science school, yet it does not have a science lab. One of the foundation's immediate aspirations and goals is to fix this anomaly. We cannot continue asking children with the minds of scientists to dream without the instruments of science. So, the foundation begins with this conviction: we must see the whole child. Not just the report card, the pass rate, the reading comprehension rate or the subject choice, but the whole child and their context. The child who is dreaming but quietly asking: does a life like that belong to someone like me? Our answer must be, 'yes'. And not a polite 'yes'. Not a motivational 'yes'. A 'yes' with structure, support, mentors and care. A 'yes' that calls to action institutions and partners to actively participate in carving pathways to a promising future. Rural South Africa has never lacked greatness. Nelson Mandela did not begin in the Union Buildings. Oliver Tambo did not begin in an airport bearing his name. Caster Semenya did not begin on the world stage. The Standard Bank group CEO, Sim Tshabalala, was born in rural KwaZulu-Natal; the chair of Anglo American, Nolitha Fakude, was born in a small village in the Eastern Cape. And there are many more. Their stories began in villages. In rural areas. In communities that society has the tendency to overlook and tuck away in the nooks and crannies of our national consciousness. It is for this reason that no child from Vaalbank, or any other village, should have to spend half their life proving that they are not a mistake of geography. That is the work before us. Mentorship matters because sometimes the first door that opens in a child's life is not a building but a person. Someone who says: I see you. Someone who says: ask me questions. Someone who says: this is how you apply. This is how you prepare. This is how you recover when you fail. This is how you enter rooms that were never designed with you in mind. Career guidance matters because we ask children what they want to become before we show them what exists. How does a child choose a career they have never seen? How does a student pursue a profession nobody has explained? How does a young person apply for a bursary they only hear about after the closing date? Information is not a small thing. A conversation at the right time can redirect and influence a child's trajectory. That is what we are building. A foundation that says rural pupils are not waiting to be rescued, they are asking to be resourced, supported, guided and taken seriously. • Manyathela is a television and radio broadcaster. He is the founder and patron of the Clement Manyathela Foundation.