They are here.
Tiny bodies, big weight.
Curiosity stubborn, alive.
Questions unanswered.
Systems built for survival, not learning.
Government schools shut down.
Budgets shrink.
Teacher posts remain vacant.
Communities are told to adjust.
Children are told to cope.
English is sold as mobility.
For many, it becomes a wall.
Understanding falters.
Expression falters.
Confidence falters.
Language is a filter, not a bridge.
Families spend more.
Schools promise more.
And children carry the risk.
Colleges multiply.
Degrees accumulate.
Jobs do not.
Private courses demand more money, more time, more hope.
Entrance exams screen out the already disadvantaged.
Half of all graduates are not ready for the workplace.
Education churns certificates, not dignity.
The first to pay the price
are always the same:
children from working-class families,
first-generation learners,
those whose homes, communities, and livelihoods
have already been stretched to breaking.
What is inconvenient for the middle class
is catastrophic for the margins.
And yet, they come.
They look up, they ask, they try.
If education is meant to grow humans,
not compliance,
then the work is clear.
Children must be seen.
Heard.
Respected.
Given space to retain their originality.
Given hope to aspire.
This is why SAANS exists.
To meet children where they are,
to honour their lives,
to turn survival into growth,
to restore learning as a practice of freedom,
dignity, and humanity —
the way it was meant to be.