“You’ll know Wits when you see it”

By Ruona Agbroko
Monday, 08 February 2010 10:21

Well before I knew that passers-by here (in South Africa) often describe five-kilometre walks with the words “it isn’t far...turn at the third robot and walk straight...”, I asked this middle-aged man clutching a big Bible at Ghandi Square which way it was to Wits’ Braamfontein campus.

It wasn’t the Bible that made me feel he would know. It was the amusing fact that the fingers of his other hand were home to a half-smoked Stuyvesant.

“Where are you coming from?” he asked. Like that mattered more than where I was going.
I explained that I lived in Sandton, and was running late for my first day of registration at Wits.

“What country are you from,” he replied instead.

I stifled the urge to utter a swear-word at no one in particular. You see, my mum in Nigeria wouldn’t approve.

At last he prescribed the usual number of robots, graciously threw in some street names and even called me ‘baby’ for effect.

Our conversation was stunted by our respective accents, and the only thing I came away with was; “You’ll know Wits when you see it....you can’t miss it!”

How right he was.

It wasn’t the big signs, period facades or the large numbers of people dressed in neon colours that made me really “know” when I got to Wits.

It was a gay couple sitting on some bench, holding hands and talking intimately, as the rest of the school milled past.

I could have hugged them, only it would’ve been rude to invade their privacy. I hadn’t yet explored the rest of the school, but instinct told me this was a place where being a student didn’t mean you’d have to sacrifice your individuality.

I would later confirm that there were associations actively celebrating and strengthening social cohesion along national, social and religious divides.

It was with glee I noted the array of sports clubs, never mind that I wouldn’t be joining any. All of this paled when I came across the independence and delightful irreverence of Vuvuzela. All of this I guessed I would encounter in the few seconds I gawked at this gay couple.

But you really can’t blame me. Here, the Student Representative Committee looks out for students, even sitting in on committees to plead the case of some with poor academic performance. In my last years at the Nigerian university where I studied Microbiology, dress codes had been issued for ALL students.

The Student Union had been scrapped totally, with all students evicted from residence by police using tear-gas when SOME destroyed property during a demonstration against a major hike in accommodation fees.

In a country where being gay is punishable with imprisonment and stigmatisation, you can imagine how liberating it was to see this couple.

And so, brimming with excitement at making registration on time as well as with the prospect of being a Witsie, I turned to the couple—as any fellow Witsie should—and said; “Hi, guys! Lovely day isn’t it?”

The handsome one with the asymmetric –cut blonde hair took his mouth off his partner’s head to reply; “Fuck off, will ya?”

I considered the statement for a nanosecond with my head tilted to one side, brows furrowed in concentration.

I concluded it had to be campus-speak for; “Shouldn’t you run along now, newbie?”

Feeling a smile break out over my face, I turned in the opposite direction.

And gladly proceeded to fuck off.



*Agbroko is the 2010 Niall Fitzgerald scholar doing her Honours degree in Journalism and Media Studies at the University of the Witswatersrand (Wits), Johanneburg, South Africa. She writes this column for www.vuvuzela.org.za, the website for Wits' journalism department.