I commenced my schooling at a farm school in the earlier forties during the Second World War. I started my first year of school in what was then known as the “baby class.” I didn’t know a single word of English—this was a far cry from today, when a child aged five uses and fully understands words like “genius,” “comfortable,” “vintage,”…etc. The reason for this is that in those days, families communicated in their mother tongues at home; these mother tongues have, of course, today almost become extinct.

Therefore, in those days, instead of merely having to teach us A, B and C and 1, 2 and 3, teachers were also faced with the task of teaching us the English language from scratch, which they did with great enthusiasm. They came all the way from Durban to teach us, having to find their own accommodation, which wasn’t provided by the school. Hats off to them! May their souls rest in peace!

With regards to my early schooling I have to say that there was nothing to crow about. I came last, or about there, in classes 1 and 2, and in standards 1 and 2 as well. Then along came a new teacher.

He was a terror, and tolerated no nonsense. He collected one shilling from us to buy a glass top for his table. One day he called me to his table to answer some questions, which was a common occurrence in classrooms in those days. He asked me a question and I answered in a soft tone. This resulted in him smashing my forehead on his table, and breaking the glass top into pieces. My classmates were surprised that my forehead was intact!

In spite of the incident, it was that very teacher who got the best out of me. In his class, I found myself coming first or second in tests and examinations, which resulted in him giving me what was called a “double promotion”—it meant that I was allowed to proceed from standard 4 to standard 6.

I had passed standard 6 when my dad felt that I should help him in his shop. There wasn’t a secondary school on the farm, and I was not keen on continuing with my studies in a town school, so there I was; I was stuck doing manual labor for a period of 8 years.

I decided then that I should do a bookkeeping course by correspondence. A friend of mine, who had been to high school, insisted on me studying for the Junior School Certificate, which I did over a period of two years. This was followed by the National Senior Certificate which I also completed over two years. I studied for both certificates via correspondence.

Studying during the summer nights was easy, but winter nights on the farm were bitterly cold. The only way to keep warm was to light a fire under the open sky, and study next to the light provided by a paraffin lantern, until midnight.

The Joint Matriculation Board was responsible for specifying the venues for year-end examinations. I found myself writing my first examination at a police station. I had to cycle 12 kilometers to and from the station under a blistering summer sky. The venue the following year was the house of an Afrikaner on the outskirts of a village. Again, getting there required 12 kilometers of cycling.

The final year also necessitated cycling the same distance; this time to an Indian school in a village. One day, on my way there, a severe storm broke out. I sought shelter in a hut. When the storm subsided, I gave the lady of the hut one shilling, which she greatly appreciated. One shilling in those days was big money! When I finally arrived at the examination venue, I was drenched in water. The White lady there shook her head; I could not say whether she did that in pity or disgust.

When I completed my Junior School Certificate, I realized that no university would accept me if I did not pass a second language in standard 10. So, I had no choice but to take Afrikaans B as my second language. I did not know a word of Afrikaans, which entailed learning 100 to 300 words daily. However, I managed it somehow, and got qualify for a university entrance.

The White universities were only prepared to accept me if I obtained the government’s approval. But, fortunately for me, headlines appeared in the Sunday Times newspaper, announcing that a university for Indians was to be established on Salisbury Island. I registered for the Bachelor of Commerce degree. It was sheer hard work which made it possible for me to become the first student to obtain that degree from the university.

I then decided that I wanted to qualify as an accountant. However, to write the final qualifying examination, it was necessary for one to serve a three year apprenticeship with a firm of accountants. I could not do so in the English-dominated province of Natal, where all the firms refused under the pretext of the apartheid laws during the Verwoerd era. Verwoerd was the prime minister of South Africa from 1958 until he was assassinated in 1966. He is considered to be the architect of apartheid by many.

I was, however, offered apprenticeship by a Jewish firm in Johannesburg. At that time, Indians had to apply for a permit to be able to go to the Transvaal to work. though I had applied for one, my permit didn’t arrive for months. So, I started working without a permit, which arrived at my workplace 6 months later.

I have a few memories of the time I spent working at the Jewish firm. The caretaker of the building refused to allow me to use the toilets as they were for “Whites only.” A White female worker refused to make tea for me because I was a “non-White.” While Black workers celebrated Verwoerd’s assassination, a White lady lamented it.

I had to sit for an examination each year of my apprenticeship. I used to study for this at night after work and during weekends. I served my apprenticeship successfully and passed the yearly and qualifying examinations. I was one of three students who were the second group of non-Whites to qualify as accountants. In all honesty, I never achieved any outstanding results during my secondary and tertiary studies.

I worked very hard and found that to achieve my goals, it was essential to be mentally and physically alert. Hence, I took up road running—sometimes before sunrise, but mostly in the evenings. I would run a distance of eight to nine kilometers a day. So it was through sheer hard work, determination, discipline and perseverance that my constant prayers to succeed were answered.