So with Glenda Kemp dead in the movie I thought of rising from the ashes in to that which I had intended to be in the first place: A teacher. Children, here I come.
I thought it was a good sign when the head of the teachers training college agreed to an appointment to meet with me. I entered his office with big smiles from both of us. He seated me down and listened intently to my plea of wanting to complete my diploma and wanting my name cleared.
Then he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a big book that looked like something very important and official. He opened the hard cover and to my surprise I recognized from the upside down position the cuttings staring at him. Just for good measure he turned the book around so that I could see my sins as recorded in the book of the Teachers Training College of South Africa. I wondered who took the trouble to cut out every detail of my doings and then to stick them neatly in order in this black book. It must have been in anticipation of just this moment to share it with me. There even was an instruction from the minister of education to block the way for me should I have the audacity to try and reenter the pastures I had left and burnt down.
I think this was the time I had my first cigarette. (see how I stopped under: Where there is fire)