Highlighting our girls’ outstanding achievements

The girls are hard at work every day. Here’s a look at some of their outstanding achievements!

The Grade 9s have been hard at work this term with their close-up studies of animals.  Each learner was given the theme of either earth/land/air/water and had to select a creature from their category.  They then painted these studies on pieces of 16cmx16cm masonite.


Grade 12 Essays

An Ode to African Baobabs

By Leeyah Essa

Summer in Musina was always hot and dry, but it tasted sweet and juicy. From across their room Prim, sitting in front of the open window, breathing in the clammy air, watched her brother, Ngozi, fold white shirts and delicately place them in a leather rucksack. “Still visiting that old tree?” said Ngozi, nodding towards Prim’s drawings of a Baobab. Prim blushed and looked away; she was suddenly embarrassed at how childish the scribbled bark, and green mushroom-topped branches must have appeared to her brother. Ngozi, being her older brother, was sent on a scholarship to a private school in Pietersburg. It was here that he learned about algebra, Italian sonnets, and words like “meticulous”. Thrilled by Ngozi’s seemingly endless knowledge, his opinion had come to matter most to Prim. However, this time he was wrong. The Baobab was significantly more than just some old tree

Musina, was desertous if not for the stretches of veld that were interrupted by low-lying and barren mountains. Prim’s gogo had told her from a young age what a miracle it was that land as arid and dry as Musina’s bore the most magnificent forest of Baobab trees. In the rainy season, when the veld wilted in the miry planes; the Baobab bore the velvety green Baobab fruit, when nothing else would grow. In the summertime, in sync with the lunar calendar, the Baobabs would flower at exactly midnight, frail white petals that coddled a dot of yellow. Each year, when the season of spitting tangy Baobab seeds had come to an end, came Prim’s favourite season. Summer was not only an important season for Prim, but also for her town Musina. Ever since the first Baobab tree blossomed, the forest had drawn in the likes of religious leaders, elders, and families from nearby communities, who year after year, hoped to draw from the fertility and strength of Umuthi WokuphilaThe tree of life.

On afternoons when the sun beat down on the town rendering its people weary, Prim would visit the Baobabs. From a young age, she had developed a special connection to the Baobab forest; their stoic trunks and exposed roots had made a comforting place to sit and sleep, and the faint whispers that were shared amongst the tops of the trees seemed wishful. Soon, Prim was divulging all of her hopes, dreams and desires to the giant Baobabs from the forest’s floor. To this day, Prim imagines that if a single Baobab were to unravel its mangled trunk, the secrets of a thousand generations of Africans guarded in its wooded meat would unfetter, panning themselves across the low veld for kilometers. Amongst those secrets, they would find Prim’s many confessions to her Baobabs, where she would reluctantly explain that despite how proud of her brother she was, she could not quite stomach the fact that if, with any luck, she had been born a boy, words like “meticulous”, sonnets and maths would come to her too, and she wouldn’t have to wait anxiously for her brother’s arrival during the holidays to learn more. Deep down, however, Prim knew that as long as blood filled out her flesh, making her appear more and more like her mother each day, Prim’s future would be saddled with the same destiny as the Baobabs, her life permanently rooted in the confines of Musina.

Reaching the Baobabs was never easy for Prim; even when she was younger and could hardly sweat. To get to the leeward side of the mountain, she would have to wade through veld that stood rigid and upright, burning its tips in the sun, leap over ribbons of sun speckled streams that gleamed under clear skies. She would scale scorched rocks that blistered her stiff hands and blocked the view of the shiny tin homes behind them. Prim didn’t mind this journey though, as challenging as it was, because it would guide her to her beloved Baobabs. At sunset when she was returning from her trees and the yolken sun ceased its sizzling in the fiery sky, the yellow and red hues that appeared in its place would glaze the harsh earth beneath it, and when the sky finally took its last breath, she would find herself wandering through crumbling, undulating slopes of purple and black.

Prim went to bed. That night, she tried desperately to muster dreams of her beloved Baobab trees. Shutting her eyes tightly until she began to imagine thickets of forest beneath her. Prim saw herself gliding above the forest. Floating over the whispers of spekboom, and faint suggestions of streams, she saw the gestures of the crooked branches spreading out of the tops of her favourite trees. Their mighty trunks looked unimaginably small from where she drifted.  Leaves that had otherwise seemed ethereal to her, brushed against the palm of her hand.

Prim blinked a few times, looked over at her paintings and felt ashamed for ever being embarrassed by them. No matter what her brother had said, she thought to herself, the Baobabs were hers, her most precious African gift.

Grade 10 Painted T-shirts

Being a Rosie

By Maleehah Fazel

By Shandra Sischy

By Onele Bam

By Rajeshwari Combedea

By Ceanna Foster

Grade 8D Bible Quotes