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A Journey to Be Employed
Azioni libro
Inizia a leggereLunghezza: 87 pagine1 ora
- Editore:
- Ramathabathe Minah Motau
- Pubblicato:
- Jul 22, 2017
- ISBN:
- 9780620767521
- Formato:
- Libro
Descrizione
Offering vivid and poignant insights into a struggle shared by many, this is the story of a woman's long, humiliating and exhausting struggle to become permanently employed within her chosen field of education. Through many temporary jobs, the constant uncertainty and financial struggle, she persisted, checking the notice board, sending in her CV and attending interviews. She found the strength to keep going on. even when it felt so much, through her faith in Jesus Christ and daily prayer meditation.
Informazioni sul libro
A Journey to Be Employed
Lunghezza: 87 pagine1 ora
Descrizione
Offering vivid and poignant insights into a struggle shared by many, this is the story of a woman's long, humiliating and exhausting struggle to become permanently employed within her chosen field of education. Through many temporary jobs, the constant uncertainty and financial struggle, she persisted, checking the notice board, sending in her CV and attending interviews. She found the strength to keep going on. even when it felt so much, through her faith in Jesus Christ and daily prayer meditation.
- Editore:
- Ramathabathe Minah Motau
- Pubblicato:
- Jul 22, 2017
- ISBN:
- 9780620767521
- Formato:
- Libro
Informazioni sull'autore
I was doing matric in 1989 when one day our Sepedi teacher gave us an essay about when it gets dark. I was the only one who understood the topic. We had A, B,C, D classes and my teacher went to all classes reading my essay. Other learners were not happy. After completing my teacher's diploma I started to read more books, watch more movies. Every time I do that I develop an idea. As I was unemployed I had time to think. I started with simple short stories then novels.
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Anteprima del libro
A Journey to Be Employed - Ramathabathe Minah Motau
Minah Ramathabathe
A Journey
to be Employed
© Ramathabathe Minah Motau 2017
A Journey to be Employed
Published by Ramathabathe Minah Motau
Mokopane
ramathabatheminah@gmail.com
ISBN 978-0-620-76540-4
eISBN 978-0-620-76752-1
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the written permission of the copyright owner.
Layout and cover design by Boutique Books
Chapter 1
It was in 1994 that I completed my diploma as a teacher. It was in January that I started with my journey to look for a job. I went to a local school to try my luck and unfortunately they hired one of my fellow students rather than me. Then the elections arrived. The focus was there, so there were no more posts advertised. Our hope was that maybe after the elections there would be enough posts for all the graduates. But it was in vain that we waited.
After the elections some posts were released. The new system of hiring was released by the new government, and this required that teachers must be hired through interview. If the principal got a post from the circuit, that post had to be advertised on the notice board; then unemployed teachers could submit their CVs to that school. Short listing for those who qualified would then be done and a list of candidates would be put on the notice board. When you got into the interview you would find the panel waiting. Don’t think that the system was fair. They might ask you questions like: What is a green paper?
or Why did you come here to look for a job?
I went for many interviews and watched my fellow candidates getting jobs until all the posts were filled. Most teachers who occupied the posts were men. If it was a woman, she would be a daughter of the soil. Even if you spoke well in an interview, someone who felt pity for you would take you aside to tell you that you performed well – but you were not the one.
Much money was spent on the journeys we had to take as we had to travel to other provinces, like North West. I spent a week in Kuruman, where a group of unemployed teachers from Limpopo Province had come to seek a job. We stayed at the hall, going each day to a circuit office to wait for the principals who needed teachers at their schools. Our other fellows were picked. I remember the radio of that province reporting that there were people from another province who had come to steal the jobs of their children. It was so scary. Democracy was not yet for all people. It was somewhere in May and it was already winter. As I had sinus and because of the cold I started to get sick. So I gave my CV to a friend I’d gone with and went back home.
Temporary posts then were available to fill in for those who were going on maternity leave. It was not nothing: I mean, half a loaf of bread is better than no bread at all. I tried, but all in vain. Nothing worked out. I suffered the stress, especially when I realized that life was going on without me.
I heard on the radio one day that unemployed teachers had delivered a memorandum to the Minister of Education in Polokwane. Then I lived in hope that something would come out. The reply from the Minister was that there was no budget for more teachers as the previous government had produced too many teachers. So, we were the results of overproduction. Years passed with nothing.
It was in 1996 that I got a post. I stood in for a teacher who was on sick leave. It was good to be at work for the first time after I’d completed my diploma. I worked hard to impresses everyone. Learners adored me.
This school was situated somewhere around Mapela; the principal was a man in his fifties. I stayed in a cottage as the school was far from my home. It was one Friday evening that I got a visitor. It was a man, my principal. I was still surprised by his visit when he said, This post you are holding is going to be permanent soon. The teacher you are standing in for is very ill at the hospital. He was an alcoholic and he might die at any time. I might take you to the hospital if you want to see him. The reason for my visit now is just to let you know that I have feelings for you. If you let me have a relationship with you, I will employ you permanently after he dies. We can keep our relationship a secret so that my wife does not know.
I felt disgusted, though I didn’t show it. Apart from what he was saying, he was drunk. My whole room was full of the smell of beer. Since I’d started to work there, I’d taken this man as my elder and my superior. He was about twenty-four years older than me. He was a respected man in the community. I didn’t know how to throw him out. He sat on a chair when he told me that story. There was no electricity by then, so we were using a candle and paraffin. It was a bit dark. After a few minutes he was snoring. So, I picked him up and put him outside. He was very heavy. I went back into my room and locked the door. After ten minutes I heard the sound of a car. It was him. I wondered how he’d managed to do that.
The following morning it was as if I was not part of the school. He avoided me like hell. The teachers I was working with were very good to me. They treated me with great respect. They called me Mokgaga because they believed that I was the granddaughter of Phatudi as he was known, because he was once a Prime Minister to the then government and I was from GaMphahlele; my mother was the one who’d inherited the surname.
I started to work like a slave. Every bit of extra work was given to me. That was a sign of anger from my principal. He did not hide his hatred to me. He despised me. I obeyed every rule and did every job he commanded me to do. Even if he asked me to wash his car I would do it without asking why. For me it was just Yes, sir,
no question asked. I didn’t want to make him angrier than I already had. The problem was that I could not sleep with this old man for a job, and he wanted to sleep with me.
I had left my poor parents at home. They were taking care of my sons because I had separated from their father because of misunderstandings. I was a single mother and the breadwinner. The past three years were years of poverty at home, as my mother was not working and my father was working as a labourer at Metro. He somehow managed to pay my school fees and maintain the family. After I completed my studies, my father retired and bought cattle with all his pension money, in the hope that, since I’d completed all my studies, I was going to provide. You can imagine all these
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