Tiny purple flowers blossom on the hills of Vukuzakhe in South Africa. The native Zulu call them "zemvelo," which means "independent life." Zulu children, like the blossoming zemvelo, are developing their own unique potentials, nourished by the Tzu Chi Elementary School.

In early summer, the hills of Vukuzakhe are covered with small purple flowers. When a warm breeze sweeps over the hill, it creates fascinating waves of purple. The Zulu people of Vukuzakhe call the flower "zemvelo," which means "independent life." The Zulu value all life as "zemvelo."

Under the Trees

Vukuzakhe is a small village in the Kwazulu Natal province in eastern South Africa. Although it is only a half-hour drive from prosperous Ladysmith, stepping into Vukuzakhe is like stepping into another world. Instead of the beautiful Victorian homes of the nearby city, the Zulu people live in small clay huts. Scattered debris and thorny shrubs add to the feeling of desolation. In 1994, the black district of Ezakheni, which included the village of Vukuzakhe, was incorporated into Ladysmith. Two years later, the South African government sent six teachers to the village. While the children no longer had to walk a long distance to attend school, they still had no school building. Classes were held under the trees.

Holding class under the trees, however, was very dependent on the weather. When the sun scorched the land, the children would stay home to escape from the intense heat. When the sky filled with dark clouds, the teachers would dismiss the children so they could get home before the storm hit. When the freezing winter wind blew, nobody would come to class.

Villagers were determined to provide a better education for their children, but with their meager incomes they could only afford to buy a few bags of clay. Nevertheless, they built Vukuzakhe's first elementary school, which they named Amankamakazama.

Openings in the clay walls served as windows and doors. When the wind was strong, sand and grit would blow in through the doors and out the windows. During a heavy rain, water would flow down the walls, slowly eroding the clay. Eventually, the grass roof caved in, leaving only the walls. Still, the children continued to attend the school. After all, studying in a school with clay walls was better than studying under the trees.

In March 1996, Tzu Chi members in Ladysmith delivered corn powder, cooking oil and other staples to a nursery in Vukuzakhe. The inadequate, irregular meals and the malnourished babies in the nursery aroused their sympathy, so they decided to provide food and care on a regular basis. The elementary school stood near the nursery, but the Tzu Chi people did not pay much attention to it, thinking it was a deserted house.

In July (winter in the Southern Hemisphere) with the temperature hovering near zero degrees Celsius, the Tzu Chi members made their monthly trek to the nursery. All of a sudden, they heard people yelling inside the clay walls of the broken-down house, and out of the "door" burst a large group of students. Startled, the Tzu Chi members asked Ms. Maqubane, the head of the nursery, what was happening. When they learned that the "deserted house" was actually a school, they wondered how the children could endure the freezing winter winds. Unable to ignore the situation, they immediately provided construction materials to repair the roof and add windows and doors.

Following the winter came the long rainy season, and the clay school building had to withstand another test. In October, after several days of heavy rain, Tzu Chi members went to inspect the school. They found the building intact, but because of the improvements which had been made to the school, the enrollment had increased from 237 to 343 students! Dozens of students were crammed into the small classrooms, and many were forced to stand. The Tzu Chi members purchased more clay, and teachers, students and villagers all worked together to add more classrooms to the school.

A School and a Well

The clay classrooms were only a stopgap measure. The Tzu Chi members hoped to build a permanent school for the children of Vukuzakhe. At that time, Principal Jabulani M. Buthelezi was planning to move to another school. Fang Lung-sheng, a Tzu Chi commissioner, pleaded with Mr. Buthelezi to stay and work with Tzu Chi to build the new school. Mr. Buthelezi saw Tzu Chi's vision for the children of Vukuzakhe, and so he decided to stay and work together with the Tzu Chi people.

They first had to apply for a construction permit. After that, they had to get approval from the king of the Zulu tribe, since all the land of Ezakheni belonged to him. Tzu Chi people tried for over three months to contact the king, but without success. Finally, with the help of the Vukuzakhe police chief, Mr. Malinga, they located a local manager who had been appointed by the king. They received the king's approval on March 12, 1997, and construction began in April. The villagers immediately started to clear the ground. Tzu Chi members purchased the construction materials, and help supervise the construction work.

The villagers had previously applied for approval from the Ezakheni construction bureau to drill a well, but the request had never been granted. The nearest water tank was an hour's walk away. Since the construction of the new school required a lot of water, the Tzu Chi people negotiated patiently with the city government, which finally agreed to send a truck to deliver water to the construction site. The truck driver, however, had to drive twenty kilometers to reach the construction site. Sometimes he was late, and sometimes he did not show up at all. Despite the eagerness of the Tzu Chi members to finish the school, construction was delayed.

The Tzu Chi members and the police chief visited the construction bureau to appeal for help. Impressed by their enthusiasm, bureau officials agreed to drill a well free of charge at the construction site. That not only provided a constant supply of water for the construction of the school, but supplied the villages with drinking water as well. The well became a gathering place where the villagers could chat with each other as they waited for water to be pumped up from the ground.

"Amitabha!"

By the end of June 1997, the shells of ten classrooms had been completed. Each classroom had glass windows which reflected the sunshine and brightened the dark gray brick walls. The new school, standing on the brown soil among hundreds of mud huts, looked like a castle protecting the hope of the children. Although the interiors had not yet been finished, the students in the senior class could not wait to move in. Lest the children have classrooms but no textbooks, the Tzu Chi Foundation shipped English textbooks from Taiwan. Some children still had to walk thirty minutes to get to the school. The road was very hot under the scorching sun and they had no shoes. So Taiwanese businesspeople in South Africa donated leather shoes, khaki uniforms and sportswear to the children. Chinese characters were embroidered on the clothing. The students had no idea what those characters meant, but they knew the clothes were given by Tzu Chi people.

Whether in the classroom or on the playground, the children seemed to have inexhaustible energy. When they saw visitors from Tzu Chi, they ran over to greet us. They imitated Tzu Chi members by holding their palms together and saying "Amitabha." When asked what those words meant, they looked at each other and whispered in their Bantu language. After some good-natured pushing and shoving among themselves, one child who spoke more fluent English murmured, "It means 'Thank you!'"

"Thank you, thank you!" the other children said. They repeatedly expressed their appreciation for their new school . The Zulus knew that education offered their children hope. Not long after the inauguration of the school, more people moved into the village. Mr. Buthelezi reported that the enrollment was up to four hundred students, and he expected the number to grow to five hundred.

The Inauguration

On November 8, 1997, the first Tzu Chi elementary school in South Africa was officially inaugurated. The quiet village of Vukuzakhe, which had seldom been visited by any government official, suddenly became lively. All the men and women put on their best clothes to celebrate the event. By 7:00 in the morning, two hours before the opening ceremony, many villagers had already arrived at the school. Latecomers could not find any seats in the shade, and they had to sit or stand under the sun. People formed a wall around the school, keeping an empty space only in front of the podium. When the officials arrived in their automobiles, one of the women in the crowd opened her mouth and let out a great yell. Then everybody yelled together. Tzu Chi members were at first surprised by the noise, but later realized that it was a Zulu custom to show great joy.

Zulus are fond of singing and dancing to express their feelings. During the ceremony, Zulu warriors danced and shouted in the center of the square under the hot sun. The audience looked on with great excitement. If President Mandela had been there, the celebration could not have been more joyful.

After the ceremony, people began to leave for home, but some students lingered. Standing inside a new classroom, a fourth grade student named Goodness proclaimed with a gleam in her eye that after graduation from elementary school, she wanted to go on to high school and then to college, so that she could be a teacher. Other students expressed their hopes to become teachers, nurses or managers.