Where Things Stand Now

Chapter One

So... I have finally decided to start this journal which I've been comtemplating about for months. I first thought about it because I had so much excess time on my hands and, truth be told, I was often bored. So here we are; in my very first chapter of my very own journal, putting my experiences and feelings on the line, for all to see. And this is how it starts...

**Let me start off by notifying you all that I'm changing the names in my journal, just to avoid any unwanted attention.

My name is James. I was born on the 3rd of February 1993; which makes me eighteen years of age. I was born in Durban, South Africa; however at the young age of two (2) my family and I relocated to the quiet country of Swaziland. Here we initially stayed in a town called Big Bend, whilst my father worked for his uncle on a farm. Eventually my dad did so well that he was offered an incredible job by a competing ranch. It was an excellent offer and no one had to think twice, so off we went to our new home in a tiny little village known as Tshaneni. This tiny village, with an approximate population of less than one-thousand, would grow on us, and become the scene for the better half of my childhood.

Before I knew it, I was enrolled at Mananga Primary School, which exceeded any expectations of my family in terms of quality. I was at this primary school for the next eight years; from grade zero (0), all the way up to grade seven (7). I did exceptionally well in the final exams, especially in maths, english, and science. Having done so well, I was offered a eighty percent (80%) busary at the local high-school; Mananga College (see what i mean about the village being small?). But being the stubborn and ambitious young boy that i was, I begged with my father to let me go to boarding school at Durban High School (DHS), where my cousin was about to go into his second (2nd) year. Finally my father relented, and off I was, into the big world, with no one besides my cousin to look after me.

**DHS - Grade 8 02-2006 to 08-2006**
We pulled up at the back gate (the entrance for boarding students) and drove onto the huge green field in front of the boarding establishment (BE). We were greeted by the hugest 'boys' i have ever seen, which we later found out were matrics. I'm sure, at that time, I must have come up to their waists at most. One grabbed my huge trunk (which my father and I both struggled to lift together) and the other grabbed my other smaller bag and began to welcome us, and me, to my new home. As we entered the BE, on our direct right, was the huge cafeteria and meal room (probably big enough to sit the entire village of Tshaneni). Directly in front of us was a staircase which we proceeded to climb. My parents stayed on the first floor to attend a little speech for all the parents, adressed by the BE Headmaster. As we cleared the first floor, the huge matric boy dropped my trunk, told me to pick it up, and follow him. I grabbed my huge trunk and began to heave and haul it up the next two (2) flights of stairs. At the top of the last flight of stairs, the matric pointed me to thr right and told me to find my name and choose a bed. So off I went, dragging my huge trunk down the corridor, looking at the list on each door I passed. Luck-be-my-mother, as I reach the very last door I sighed as I see my name, relieved that I wasnt left out completely. There was only one other boy in the room, slighty larger than me, and his name was Sicelo. I chose the bed closest to the window, and hefted my trunk onto it. Before long, our fellow dorm-mates arrived and we all greeted each other and tried to find comfort in the dreading feeling coming over us; knowing that our parents would soon be gone. The other dorm-mates were Wade, Justin (Pillay), Phillip and another dude I actually cant remember... Twenty minutes later, the two matrics were back outside our dorm, telling us to come say goodbye to our parents.**

**So that was my welcome to DHS and my stay there lasted just over three terms. Although I seriously disliked it at times, and academic-wise it completely ruined me, it taught me hard-earned morals and value and vital lessons in life, which cant be learnt in any other way. My DHS stay was very brief, solely on the fact that we could just not afford the fourteen grand (R14 000) school fees, and the sixteen grand (R16 000) boarding fees a year. So off I went back to Swaziland, and managed to get a twenty percent (20%) bursary for Mananga College (MC). I stayed at MC for just less than a year, but then we were struck with terrible news.

**Mananga College - 08-2006 to 04-2007**

Chapter Two