was some laughter from the students in the queue behind me.
“What do you want in the university if you cannot read?” She looked at me with disdain. “Can’t you see what is written there?” she said, pointing at the sign on the white wall.
Straight-faced, I slowly turned my head and read the sign.
STAND IN THE QUEUE AND WAIT
FOR SOMEONE TO HELP YOU
I paused for rumination. I was seething with anger. “Bullshit! What does a bimbo like you think I want? Gold?”
I heard a sigh of awe from the other students in the queue.
“Get out of this office at once!” shouted the secretary.
“Nice try. But you can only chase me out if this is your uncle’s office.”
“This guy! Who the hell do you think you are to speak to me like that?”
Without thinking I answered. “I’m Jesus from heaven.”
The sound of laughter came from nearby.
“Whoever you are, what makes you think you are more deserving than the rest of these people who are standing in line?”
The office became silent as all eyes were turned on me. I didn’t care; all I wanted was an explanation as to how on earth they thought I would raise the money to study without a bursary. Meanwhile my enemy had disappeared into the office next door to call her supervisor.
“Is this the one, Rachel?” asked the overweight woman, pointing to me as if I was a witch.
“Ja, Ms Steenkamp,” replied the one with the narrow forehead.
Ms Steenkamp folded her arms boastfully, as if she was the Governor of the Reserve Bank. She shot me a shrewd look and raised her nose as if she was confronted with a disgusting township rubbish dump. Her malicious bloodshot eyes locked with mine as she pointed her short, fat forefinger at me and began in a commanding tone of voice, “Hey you! If you need to be helped in this office you need to behave like the other students. Do not storm in here like you are entering a butchery or supermarket.”
There was more laughter from everyone in the office. She paused and waited for the laughter to subside.
“Haa! Just look at him! Do you think this is Cuba? Do you see Fidel Castro here? Do you think you can just get a free education without standing in the line like the others?” Encouraged by the laughter as well as my silence, she continued: “You must act like a civilised person and apologise to Rachel for your apish behaviour. Then you must stand at the back of the line if you want to be helped in this office. Otherwise you will not receive any money from us,” she said, dismissing me with a curt gesture using the back of her hand. It was a gesture that an angry owner uses to dismiss his troublesome dog.
I did not know what to say. My mind was clouded. I could not think properly. I tried to open my mouth to say something but my lips seemed tightly sealed, as if they were glued together. With sudden energy I vented my anger, thumping the counter with a loud bang. Most of the files and papers that were on the counter fell down as a result. The coloured secretary Rachel and her overweight boss Ms Steenkamp lurched back, waiting to see what my next move would be. I began to swear, my voice building to a scream: “F-f-f-ffuu-ck!”
That was all I could think to say to her at that moment. The way everyone looked at me, I guess nobody had ever said such a swearword in that office before. A moment of silence fell. I had lost my temper. I didn’t care anymore. “Nne-ver, ee-ver, I mean never ever ee-ever speak to me like that. Do you f-ffuckin’ understand me, you fat bitch?”
I have no idea where those words came from. Neither did I understand what they meant at the time. I didn’t even notice that two black security officers had been called and were standing right beside me. They were holding their knobkerries, but I couldn’t stop. The two security officers had arrived at the wrong time, when my anger was at its peak. I was not afraid of them, come what may.
“Do y-you know who you are f-ffucking with?” I moved back and forth like a heavyweight boxer who is ready to throw another punch. With my right fist I thumped hard on the counter. “I mean, do you ugly fat ladies know who the f-ffuck I am? Do you want to lose your f-ffuckin’ jobs because of what you have just f-ffuckin’ said? Hhee?”
“Ho! Ho! Please relax, man. Insults are not worth it, man. I understand you are angry,” said the black security officer who was trying to calm me down. “But you are talking to ladies, remember?”
I turned to the security officer. “Just shut up! I’m not f-ffuckin’ talking to you,” I said, pointing my forefinger at him.
There wasn’t another word from him. I turned back to Ms Steenkamp. “Do you want to regret having seen me in this office today?”
I paused and looked at the two ladies as if I was waiting for an answer. They were bloody scared. I opened my eyes wide as if the two ladies had just insulted the president of the country. My aim was to frighten them into thinking that I was some big name. They must think I’m the son of their employer, although their employer is probably white, I convinced myself.
Everyone was watching me; I guess most of the people were trying to think where they might have seen me. Some of them must have thought for sure that I was the son of the Minister of Finance, or cousin of the President, or some important celebrity. But before I could vomit more insults, a white lady entered through the main door. She approached the counter, obviously surprised at the sight of the two security guards. Something in my enemies’ body language told me that somebody important had arrived.
“My God! What is going on here?” she exclaimed. “I’m Dr Winterburn, the registrar in this office.” She paused. “Is there some problem in this office I should know about?”
I felt that I had to answer her before anybody else took advantage of the situation. I summoned all my courage to dispel the anger that was already clouding my mind, and said as calmly as I could: “This lady here called me an ape when I came to see Registrar Winterburn, and I demand to lodge a formal complaint to her sup –”
Before I could finish my sentence the secretary with the narrow forehead interrupted me. “Ja. You think you’re clever mos. Say what you were saying before. Come on say it now. Tell her.”
“Never shout and point at me like that,” I warned her.
“Let’s not be emotional and –” said Dr Winterburn, looking at me.
“Who’s emotional?” I snapped.
“I mean, it’s natural to be emotional and I understand how you feel,” she said patronisingly.
Her attitude made my blood boil. “Listen here! Are you coming to take sides or have you taken them already?”
“No no no. We don’t take sides in this office,” she countered defensively. That’s where I wanted her, on the defensive. “I’m only trying to find out what happened because I’m the one in charge here. Please don’t misunderstand me.”
“Okay then. These two ladies insulted me by calling me an ape.”
The two secretaries hissed as I tried to explain, but Dr Winterburn shushed them. “Ms Steenkamp,
