Tiger Kloof died once, lived twice

ENOLE DITSHEKO | Friday February 1, 2008 00:00

Also, many will agree that the Bangwato heir and founding president of Botswana, Seretse Khama fought vociferously against imperialist regimes as Rhodes' and caused the ushering in of independence on a silver platter to his nation, hence naturally, nothing could make the two men share any affinity! Even with the stark unlikeness, the commonality is that Seretse's health was also under constant threat under the weather conditions of Natal, where his custodian and uncle, Tshekedi Khama sent him to study at Adams College. This was so because Seretse's grandfather, Khama the Great, was cynical of the agenda by the London Missionary Society (LMS) so much that he refused them the serenity of Botswana to plant their school, and subsequently passed up the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the nation to have a leading school in Tiger Kloof. But it was sooner than later that the young prince's family reckoned that the then Northern Cape weather might improve his health and extend him a lease of life, thus he enrolled at Tiger Kloof near Vryburg, before proceeding to Lovedale in the Eastern Cape. 

An afternoon cruise at 140km per an hour along the N18 highway almost cost us a rare opportunity to visit this well known prestigious institute in southern Africa, due to our ignorance that it is located in present-day North-West Province and along the route we were taking to Bloemfontein.

'Look at this English architecture,' Wazha pointed her index finger to the east. 'Bob, please make a u-turn,' I yelled.

As we pulled up at the main gate of the grand school, which from time immemorial made buzzes and waves as a tale worthy to be narrated to our generation by parents and grandparents, it became clear that anyone who knows a little bit of the English building designs would agree that the British presence is very much alive at this site. The school, which was inaugurated in 1904, is alma mater to many leaders especially in post-independence Botswana and South Africa. Among its long list of products; a few that springs to mind, and certainly ones that Tiger Kloof is proud to count as alumni, include Sir Seretse Khama, Dr Gaositwe Chiepe, Sir Ketumile Joni Masire, Benjamin Thema (who was Seretse's Tswana teacher at the same institution), Motsamai Kejetswe Mpho, Topo James Molefhe, Goareng Mosinyi, Archibald Mogwe, Ezra Mogwe, Miriam Lesolle and Ketshabile Disele. Ohetotswe Mpotokwane and Rampholo Molefhe are among the children of Batswana born on the farm site of Tiger Kloof, where their parents having attended the school, subsequently worked.

'Personally, I want to welcome anyone wishing to tour this school that defied repressive apartheid. But we are closed for the Christmas holiday. I may let you in, and someone else finds you touring and I get into trouble for it,' explained Mofenyi, the gatekeeper, turning down the volume on his hand-size radio.

'Malome, utlwa Kulenyane mo radio,' screamed nine-year old Regopotswe, recognising the beat of the local traditional troupe, Culture Spears.

'They are Batswana also. Remember we also listen to their radio station, Motsweding, right?' My nephew nodded his head as the five of us stood in front of the school gate, making no effort to convince our host to let us in. Mofenyi, however allowed us to set our feet on campus just to get close to one of the buildings and take a few photos as memories of this striking legacy.

'This surely looks like the premier school of all times,' Lorato probed him. 'I am 50 years old and all my life, I know no other school that can beat this one. Those English people really wanted to give Batswana a good education...' he got interrupted.

'Why did you miss out on the opportunity?' I dared to ask. He looked at me in the eyes, momentarily went dead silent then rubbed the corner of his eye with the back of his right hand. He forced a smile and displayed a set of untainted teeth as he came forth with the story that would remain with all five travellers.

'I went to Montshioa School in Mafikeng, when the bloody riots in Soweto happened in 1976. They affected all black children in this country. All of us, who were taught in our native tongues, were hunted by the apartheid officers like men go out for wild animals. We received threats to our lives from the police and soldiers each day. We were taught that there were only four provinces in the whole country, and that is what they wanted us to believe. They were the Transvaal and Orange Free State and...' he raised his head up into the sky, as if to ask for God's intervention in the names of the other two he could not remember.

'Only four provinces, you were taught? These Boers, they are full of s...' Bob cussed.

'Remember Bantu education? Ours was Bantu education and nothing more - the kind that made sure you came out of high school unskilled and unable to compete against a Boer child, who went to better schools. Monna, rona re akotswe ke batho - o mpona gompieno ke thibela mo kgorong ke ka bona maburu (the reason I am a gatekeeper is because we were oppressed by the system).' Mofenyi leaned against the wall of the guardroom.
'This country has a painful history. God must open heaven's gates to welcome all blacks of this land for the strength to forgive and reconcile with...' I got interrupted.

'But do not ask any of us to forget those atrocities - we will continue to look back with tearful eyes to when our land was grabbed from us by those with money and weapons and turned us into their subjects and property.' He raised his voice. He got animated and it became obvious, suddenly that our conversation was re-awakening those pains and horrors of being black in apartheid South Africa.

'That is how you could not come here?' challenged Wazha. 'My sister, even if I completed my studies, Tiger Kloof was out of reach for poor ones like most black South Africans. You see the railway line cuts across campus and behind that house,' he motioned to her to follow him. He continued: 

'That is the station, where the train would stop and offload children on its way to Kimberley.  In fact, your people attended this school as you can see on that centennial plaque,' he said, pointing at the rock next to the gate. On it among the names engraved are: Dr. Chiepe, Sir Seretse and Sir Ketumile.

'I remember the 100th anniversary celebrations from the television news bulletin in recent years,' stated Lorato, admiring the plaque. Mofenyi threw his cap on the table, shook his head as if to disbelieve what my nephew just said.

'Those Boers were merciless. Such a good school like this one - guess what they did to it? They shut it down in 1963,' he rolled his sleeves and bit his lips, clearly signalling anger as he remembered the events from his country's past.

'But the buildings are in good shape...' Bob got interrupted. 'If you came here before the 2004 celebrations, you would not say so. This whole place was neglected. Everything had fallen apart over the three decades, thanks to different people who revived it from its deathbed,' Mofenyi explained.

The descriptions transported me into the world of imaginative creativity, sparking concrete images and painting scenes of the locomotive's shrieking noise, blowing its horn from a kilometre's distance announcing its approach for anyone along campus to clear the way. I saw the English men and women sent to this part of the land by the LMS to advance the gospel agenda, abruptly pausing lectures, coming out of the classrooms in a haste to ensure there was no pupil next to the railway line until the train had come to a complete halt, before speeding away toward the diamond city of Kimberley, in order for lessons to resume. I made out the boys and girls of hay days, when boys were boys and girls remained girls and nothing more or less. I imagined them disembarking the train after weeks of school break, when parents loaded them with rands wrapped in khaki papers or newspaper pages and neatly sewn into the seams of their pants and dresses with clear instructions:

'Only undo the stitches in front of your school boarding master or matron, who will register you for the term and give you a receipt.'

I imagined the 1963 scenes of seething fury, when the police and soldiers finally descended on campus to forcefully decree that blacks did not have the freedom to education that empowered them to compete in a global economy and placed them at the centre-stage of political leadership. I could not fathom attending a school in a hostile environment as during those days. What was the atmosphere like attending a private school in a country pregnant with hatred and thirsty for blood of the black race, I wondered as I wandered around the magnificent campus, but alas, my question would haunt me for a little while longer as it would be weeks before I could find one of the 'old tigers' to shed light on how they coped under constant fear.

'Listen, we have four hours left of our drive - it really was nice visiting with you. Do you mind to snap us a few photos,' I begged.

'Uncle, this man has been deprived by apartheid to become one of the best photographers,' reasoned Lorato, reviewing the pictures on the digital camera. I nodded my head in disbelief, having asked whether he knew how to operate a camera like it.

'You are a good teacher - you demonstrated so well that if I spent a few more days with you, I could get a job at the newspaper,' he chuckled.

The engine kicked and we skidded away into nothingness, but the profound impact Mofenyi made on us reverberated alongside the melodies from our collection of gospel music, causing us to ponder, wonder and interrogate issues as we travelled the highway N18 south to join N8 east to Bloemfontein, the city where our first leg of the week-long journey would end and a night away from home spent.

'Uncle, can the Boers kick and chain them still?' Regopotswe, whose curiosity always gets the better of him, finally unzipped his mouth.

'They are not referred to as the Boers - can you say Afrikaaners?' I chided him. 'Yes sir, Africans.' We all burst into laughter.

'They are no longer abused. They are free just like us in Botswana,' aunt Wazha answered. An old tiger in Dr. Chiepe explained that though some black South Africans might have not afforded Tiger Kloof, by the then standards of private schools, it remained relatively cheap.

She arrived on campus in 1939 and left in 1943 having completed junior certificate and matriculation.

'It is important to tell Batswana that Habuji Sosome's grandmother was the first Motswana woman to attend Tiger Kloof (girls' school). I would not say the school was for wealthy people, because rich Batswana sent their children to Lovedale and Hilton - Tiger Kloof was an equaliser. Boys wore khaki shorts and shirts and girls wore khaki corduroys. Seretse's uncle (Tshekedi) wanted him to be among the poor people, so I found him there,' Dr. Chiepe remembered. She stated that because of the Group Area's Act, the school was segregated according to race and students from Bechuanaland, Basutoland and Barotsiland, did not have the same degree of tolerance as their South African counterparts to stick around.

'When the apartheid system introduced the boundaries, the school became part of the white area - but because it was for blacks, no white child attended it, probably because it could not be cleansed of our blackness to suit their children. Then followed the Bantu education that said blacks should be hewers of wood and drawers of water. Whether the grapes were sour, I do not know, but we stopped sending our children to Tiger Kloof and this is what led to the closure in 1963,' she stressed, lifting her hands.

The LMS got some insignificant compensation from the racist regime and in partnership with the Bechuanaland Protectorate; some monies were invested into erecting a Botswana version of Tiger Kloof at Otse to be later known as Moeding.

'Numerically and in scope, Moeding was nowhere near the old Tiger Kloof but simply a secondary school. The old Tiger Kloof had primary and secondary schools, offered academic courses and vocational skills including: masonry, leather work, tailoring, carpentry, domestic science, bible school and teacher training - it was a comprehensive school, small by today's standard but big in impact,' She sparkled.

Dr. Chiepe said that apart from the qualifications that led her on to further studies, she counts self-respect and respect for others and doing one's best at any task to be values she learned from Tiger Kloof hence her achievement.

'Really? I was not aware that my name appears on the plaque. I would like to go back there and see the new Tiger Kloof! The last time I visited was when it was reopened in 1995; it was a sad sight - too dilapidated. I went with Rre Ketumile Masire, one of the old tigers! I wish the new Tiger Kloof and Moeding could have a relationship because they are bonded together by history,' Dr. Chiepe stressed. That bond still exists, though not as strong as it should be, given the cultural affinity both schools share.

'Some years ago, we had visitors from Moeding and our board members also visited there, but I must admit the relationship is slowly dying away, but we can do better to revive the relationship,' explained the Principal, Mrs Gail du Toit, in a telephone interview.

Though the name remains, the new Tiger Kloof is a public school on a private property and follows the national curriculum, meaning that many courses that were previously offered have been phased out.

It comprises both primary and secondary schools with student enrolment standing at 522 and quite refreshingly, some Batswana families continue to send their children to Tiger Kloof.

'In 1995, when it reopened, we enrolled 76 students in eighth grade only. In 1999, we had our first cohort of graduates. In 2004, we re-introduced primary education and currently are up to grade four.

We continue to offer boarding facilities and, yes, the train stops on campus and our students make use of it,' stated the principal.