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FEEDBACK TUTORIAL LETTER 

 

 

ASSIGNMENT 1 

 

 

SECOND SEMESTER 2017 

 

 

 

ENGLISH IN PRACTICE 

                                     [EPR511S]

 

   

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Dear EPR Students

Below is the feedback on assignment 1. We hope it will help you in preparation for the next

assignment and gives you an understanding of English in Practice (EPR511S).

Section A: Comprehension

General: This section was well answered. If you did not score a high mark, it was because you

did not identify the correct main idea.

Here are some tools on how to find the main idea:

1. A youtube clip https://youtu.be/tM65ImKfj-Q

2. “Once you can find the topic, you are ready to find the main idea. The main idea is the point

of the paragraph. It is the most important thought about the topic.

To figure out the main idea, ask yourself this question: What is being said about the person,

thing, or idea (the topic)?

The author can locate the main idea in different places within a paragraph. The main idea is

usually a sentence, and it is usually the first sentence. The writer then uses the rest of the

paragraph to support the main idea.”

(Diane Vener, https://www.landmarkoutreach.org/strategies/finding-main-idea/)

1. Define the term plagiarism as shown in the passage. (2)

Plagiarism is defined as the deliberate or reckless representation of another's

words, thoughts, or ideas as one's own without attribution.

2. Why is plagiarism unethical and what can be the consequences for such behaviour.

(3)

"Plagiarism or intellectual theft makes students' work second rate and of no

quality at all [1] since all it does is demonstrate dishonesty [1] at the highest

possible level" said a professor. We labelled those guilty of plagiarism as

"thieves". [1]

3. Mention one concern of University with regard to plagiarism and how it will be

addressed. (2)

(…plagiarism as a serious offence, which in some instances could even) result

in the expulsion of the offender. "We are trying to curb this practice by installing

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software that can pick up the slightest hint of plagiarised information and we

make use of external moderators to examine the students".

4. What is the difference between plagiarism and cut-and-paste? (2)

Plagiarism is when you use other people’s work and present it as your own

work.

To copy data from one place, e.g. a document and paste it in another document.

The Student said: “I am not guilty of plagiarism. I found the essay on the internet

but I have changed some words and changed the order of some of the

paragraphs.”

5.1. Is the above an example of plagiarism? (1)

Yes

The student had taken work from different internet pages and put it together to

form an essay.

5.2. Is the above an example of plagiarism? (1)

Yes

With the change of the comprehension, I had not noticed that there was no

question number 6.

Part 2

In this exercise you will be tested to find the main idea of a paragraph. Select the

statement that best expresses the main idea of the paragraph. Only write the

letter of your answer next to the number, e.g. 7a

7. Paragraph (2)

d. There are surprisingly few regional differences in Australian English.

8. Paragraph (2)

d. Beautifully decorated, light-coloured rooms make people more comfortable

than ugly, dark rooms.

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9. Paragraph (2)

b. The author believes that every person has the potential to be a teacher.

10. Paragraph (2)

d. Throughout his life, Giacometti was not convinced he was a true artist.

11 Paragraph (2)

c. The earliest humans may have spoken a click language.

.

Part 3

In the following two paragraphs, identify a sentence that expresses the main

idea. For each paragraph, write only the sentence that expresses the main idea.

12. Paragraph (2)

Contrary to popular opinion, change has always characterized the family.

13. Paragraph (2)

Our ideas about the ancient Mayas are changing; we once thought then to be

peaceful but now believe them to have been war-like.

Section B: Grammar [20 marks]

General: The majority of you scored poor marks in this section, please use your EPR guide to

help you review these questions. This section is on grammar; therefore the focus was on

grammatical sentences presented. Hence, a wrong use of word, tense or spelling a sentence

resulted in no mark obtained. The few who did good, well done and please do refer back to the

study guide for better understanding on grammar. Or come to the Writing Unit for assistance

with grammar.

____________________________________________________________________________

1. Change Sentences A and B to the passive voice. (2)

(A) Playwright Karl Capek first used the word ‘robot’ in his 1920 play ‘R.U.R’.

The word ‘robot’ was first used in 1920 (in the play ‘R.U.R’ by playwright Karl Capek)

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(B) Kapek tells the story of these robots through the lens of protagonist Anthony Fischer.

The story of these robots were told through the lens of protagonist Anthony Fischer./or

Through the lens of protagonist Anthony Fischer the story of these robots were told (by Kapek)

2. Re-write Sentences C and D using reported speech. (4)

(C) Isaac Asimov, the science fiction writer, says, “In my work, I take a more optimistic view; in most of my stories robots are helpful to humans, not harmful.”

Isaac Asimov, the science fiction writer, says, (that) in his work, he takes a more optimistic view; in most of his stories robots are helpful to humans, not harmful. [4 x ½=2]

(D) Asimov explains that “the first famous robots were those that occurred in the Star Wars films, called R2D2 and C-3P0.”

Asimov explains that the first famous robots were those that occurred in the Star Wars films, called R2D2 and C-3P0. [2]

3. Choose the correct form of the present tense verb (either present simple, present continuous or present perfect) to complete Sentences E, F and G. (3)

(E) Currently, however, scientists (work) are working to develop more and more sophisticated machines that can copy human behaviour.

(F) The Sony Corporation in Japan (invent) has invented AIBO, a robotic dog that learns through human interaction.

(G) Many big industrial companies (have) have industrial robots which are automated machines that work on assembly lines.

4. Identify any two modal verbs in Paragraph Two. (2)

Can/have/ may [Any 2]

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5. Choose the correct form of the bracketed words (either a participle, gerund or infinitive) to complete Sentence H. (3)

(H) NASA (The National Aeronautical and Space Administration) in America has (create) created rover robots which travel across the surface of Mars, collecting information (transmit) transmitting through space to scientists back on Earth for the (process) processing of data.

6. Use the given scenario below and write a sentence in the second and third conditional (4)

You are given a robot.

II. If I had a robot, I would enjoy it (past simple + would +infinitive)

III. If I had been given a robot, I would have played with it. (past perfect+ would have +ed)

7. Identify the types of conditionals of the sentences below:

i. If the Honda Company had not begun designing robots, countless other countries would also not have worked on them. (1)

Third conditional

ii. If robots are used to diffuse bombs, there is a lower risk of endangering human lives. (1)

Zero conditional

SECTION C: CRITICAL READING [20 marks]

This section still remains a challenge for some students. Those who scored low marks

had struggled with understanding the questions because they lack an understanding of

the technical terms in critical reading. Please review in the guide the meaning of the

technical terms (protagonist, antagonist, climax, plot, metaphor, simile, etc).

Furthermore, take time to first read and understand the story before answering the

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questions. Please read the story and do not try to understand every word, but rather try

to get a general idea of what the story is about. When you read it for the second time

underline the names of places, people, dates, similes [like…. / as …… as], metaphors,

personification). Those technical terms/keywords/ideas will assist you in finding the

answers to the questions. Use your guide to answer the technical terms.

Read the following story written by Marialena van Tonder and answer the question that

follow.

First Day of the Month

1. Summarise the plot in 30-35 words. Write down the number of words used. (3)

The story is about Melanie and Sylvia who had stolen money. Melanie worked at

an exclusive grocery store. Sylvia worked in public relations division. Both ladies were caught on the first day of the month. [35 words]

2. Name the setting of the story. (2)

Sidewalk café [in Namibia?] afternoon time [on the first day of the month]

3. Who is the protagonist? (2)

Melanie and Sylvia [both names]

4. How was poetic justice served? (3)

They used the first day of the month to celebrate their success and it was on the first day of the month that they were caught. The day of celebration signalled the end of their thievery.

5. What narrative style was used? (2)

First person

6. What is the moral of the story? (2)

You might get away the first time with doing something wrong, but you will be caught in due time.

7. Explain the irony of the title; First day of the month. (2)

First day of the month is a time to celebrate but for the ladies it turned out to be their day of reckoning./ It signals that the first day of the month will have a different meaning for them.

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8. Identify a metaphor in paragraph three (3). (2)

swelling their coffers

9. Why did the two ladies feel smug and content while drinking their cappuccino? (2)

They thought they had once again succeeded stealing money without being caught.

10. What style technique is found in the last paragraph? (2)

Repetition, ending the story with the beginning phrase [and the title.]

_________________________________________________________________________

SECTION D: ESSAY WRITING [30 marks]

Select a topic from the list and write an opinion essay in which you adhere to the required

structure of an opinion essay. It was disappointing to note that some students copied

essays from the internet. These students have deprived us of the opportunity to help

them improve their essay writing skills. It is plagiarism!

Before you write the essay, spend a few minutes planning.

Pay attention to the structure of a good essay, organization and coherence within

your essay, as found in the study guide. Please do not forget to provide a title for

the essay of your choice next time as some of you did not.

Please create shorter sentences.

Make use of the Writing Unit to help you with grammar issues. You don’t need to

struggle on your own.

NOTE: The short story for assignment 2 was posted on COLL’s webpage on 7

August 2017. All EPR students had received a SMS to inform them about this. In

addition, copies of the story were handed out during the vacation school. Hard

copies can be printed at the Regional Centers.

We wish you all the success for the future. If you need assistance, please do not hesitate to

contact any one of us.

tkavihua@nust

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jeiseb@nust.na

tfrans@nust.na

All the best with the next assignment and I believe you will compile a good assignment with the

incorporation of the comments in the feedback letter.

Street Child

Article 15 of the Namibian Constitution Children’s Rights

All children in Namibia have the right to a name, nationality and to be cared for by their parents. No child under the age of 14 may be employed to work and· no child under the age of 16 may be

employed to do work that is dangerous to their health or interferes with their education. No child under the age of 16 may be detained.

Sun filtered through a crack in the warehouse wall and a single beam touched the sleeping child. It played on the dirty face, highlighting the grime that lay in patches on the cheeks and forehead. The grubby hessian bag that covered the small body lying curled up like an alley cat, moved as the warmth of the sun broke into dreams and slumber. A tiny sound came from beneath the bag - a whimper laced with short intakes of breath as dreams played about in the child's mind. Dreams of a warm home and a mother who expressed her love in endless hugs and kisses. But then nightmares always came galloping in to destroy the dreams. Nightmares manifested in screaming ambulance sirens and shadowy people pushing the child aside. Dark shadows pulling and dragging the child away from its mother whose hands are reaching out. Then into the phantasmagoria always comes the uncle who has a mind of filth with actions to match, and suddenly the nightmares project surrealistic pictures of a child running, running. Running until the uncle's cruel voice bellowing, "Jo! Come here you pest!" is long gone and the child is swallowed up by the confusing sounds of the city and the spasmodic flashing of neon signs. Forever the same dreams, and forever the same nightmares. In the warehouse the small knees, as thin as a bird's, were drawn up close to the body and the dry, cracked hands with their short, bitten nails, were folded prayer-like under one cheek, as if they were a pillow. The ground was hard and the carton on which Jo lay served merely as a barrier between the wasted body and the cold concrete. Jo was not alone. Four other street children lay in comers of the warehouse. Three were older and one was nearly the same age as Jo, yet all were identically thin and neglected, making their chronological ages indiscernible. The same feeling of hunger gnawed at their stomachs and the same fear and longing invaded the young souls and minds which tried so hard to be tough. One bony leg stretched out from under the hessian bag. Then was followed by the other and Jo rolled over to stare up at the roof that domed above. Sky showed through a large hole in the warehouse roof and broken wooden beams and iron girders protruded across the opening like giant teeth in a gaping mouth. Jo remembered the story of Jonah and the whale and wondered if his view from inside the whale had been the same. Then the brown eyes closed once more to shut out the longing that forever came with daybreak. Hunger began to rear its ugly head and to squeeze the empty little stomach. Even though the bigger boys had found food in bins outside a hotel the night before, the two smaller ones had to be satisfied with leftovers. Leftovers of leftovers - the life pattern of the street child.

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With muffled, drowsy sounds the other children stirred in their selected nooks of the deserted warehouse as a youthful adolescent voice rang through the stillness. "Niilo?" "Yes sir!" a voice answered. "Rob ... Donnie?" With a "yes boss!" and "I'm here!" the two boys replied, their voices still thick with sleep. "Jo?" "Yes Big Boy, I'm here!" said Jo and felt less lonely. At least someone cared whether everything was still alright. As the youngest, Jo was always last on Big Boy's early morning roll call. "Today we cover the car park next to the Beef Burger shopping Centre," Big Boy spoke from where he sat cross-legged on an ancient foam rubber mattress. His English was good and grammatically correct, for Big Boy insisted that even when talking to each other, no gutter slang was allowed. As their leader, he was particular about many things. "Niilo and Rob - you guys do the area down near the Take Away’s back entrance. I'll walk that spot where the flower sellers sit. Jo, Donnie, you two watch out for old people and ladies at the car park. Jo, remember to limp. Drag your one leg. And always use the same leg- not like last week when you changed legs and an old man thwacked you with his umbrella!" The others laughed heartily and Jo felt very small. It had really been dumb to do such a stupid thing. Big Boy produced some bread from a tin and they ate break• fast. It wasn't much, but it did fill a hollow place inside. After a few minutes they trooped out of the warehouse to start their day’s work, led by Big Boy. The Beef Burger Centre was on the other side of town and Big Boy, despite being barely thirteen years old, had lived on the streets for far longer than the others and knew the city well. Not only was he familiar with the ways and wiles of the city, but also with all the short cuts and the best places for a street child to cadge. In single file the ragged little pack crossed an open space where deserted car wrecks and rubbish lay strewn in a graveyard of their own. On the far side Big Boy swung to the left and dashed down a long steep incline, the others following equally fast. Suddenly little Jo lost a footing and was sent tumbling and rolling down the stony slope into an overgrown gully below. The others laughed and Niilo gave the ear nearest to him an affectionate cuff as he hauled the child to its feet. "Hey little brother you really are something else!” he said. "Sure you're okay?" Jo nodded, but kept quiet about the burning scrapes and scratches on the back of both legs, as well as the ache in the two small buttocks hidden by a pair of baggy shorts. Big Boy stooped and the four followed him into a large storm water drain where a foul smell hung thick in the air. Pools of stagnant water lay like dirty mirrors, reflecting what little light there was. Rubbish was strewn about and signs of vagrants having slept there were clearly evident. The older children had to mind their heads in the tunnel, whereas Jo was still small enough to walk upright which helped when hurrying to keep up with them. Large sewer rats squeaked and scurried by, but the children hardly noticed for when one has no mother or father and you are forced to live on the streets nameless and homeless, rats are the least of your worries. A large disc of light appeared ahead where the drain took a bend to the right and Big Boy, with his boys in tandem, went out into the sunshine and hurried on in an easterly direction. Five grimy street children out to find a way to keep alive. They reached the Beef Burger Centre and conferred for a few minutes in an alley behind a shop. Then they stood in a circle around Big Boy. "What is our pledge?" he asked, as he did each time they went out on the streets. Big Boy was tough, yet well-mannered and kind, but they all knew too well his temper when The Pledge was broken. The four cupped their hands over Big Boy's fist and recited in all earnest, "We pledge not to steal, not to swear, nor to hurt anybody. We pledge not to take drugs and to pool everything we earn for the good of the family." Big Boy refused to refer to them as a gang, they were a family. Little Jo recited along with them, but at first the word pledge had seemed strange and had to be explained carefully. When the boys used big

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words like that, it made them feel good because it showed they were not just guttersnipes like some of the other street children. The Pledge taken, they split up and went off on their assignments. When both hands of the clock up in the centre’s tower were on the twelve, they were to meet in the same alley and report on progress. Jo limped convincingly that day, partly because of concentrating on using the same leg all the time and partly because the leg hurt from the tumble into the gully. The parking lot was busy and seemed to be teeming with elderly people and ladies. Jo sporting a sweet smile, and the limp, did well with money, fruit and a packet of biscuits. Rebuffs were also plentiful. One old woman even smacked Jo after a lecture on "what a horrid little boy you are, spending your day loafing around." At precisely twelve o'clock the five youngsters met in the alley and shared their harvest. The food they ate heartily, but the money went into a body-belt Big Boy wore under his T-shirt. After resting for a while in amongst the boxes in the alley, they set off once more. This time to meet at six o'clock back at the same place. When Donnie and Jo reached their assigned area again, Donnie wandered off to the other side of the centre's parking lot, leaving Jo alone in front of a supermarket. Jo had not been there long when a woman came out, a carrier bag in each hand. She was talking to a little girl who skipped beside her and as they came near, Jo limped up to them with the single word, "Please ...” and cupped hands held out in a pleading gesture. The woman stopped short and glared down at Jo. "Go away dirty boy!" she snapped. "Go home to your poor mother. My child would never leave me to go and play at being a beggar on the streets." She smiled at her little girl who stuck her tongue out at Jo. "You heard what my mommy said. Go away!" she said nastily. Slowly Jo backed off, a sad, tragically frightened look crumpling the small face. “I didn’t leave my mommy,” the words were just above a whisper, then they became louder and louder, "I didn't leave my mommy! They took her away in an ambulance. I didn't leave my mommy!" The words ended in a dry sob and turning, Jo hobbled off, the tragic motion of drag-and-step, drag-and-step seeming to symbolize the street child's whole existence. Tears began to zig-zag down the dirt encrusted cheeks as Jo cast aside the charade and began to run, weaving between the motor cars and people. On and on. Running until the cool shadows of the alley closed around and like a wounded animal, Jo crawled in behind a pile of boxes and garbage bags. Weeping brought sobs in its wake and the tiny shoulders heaved uncontrollably. The gasps and sobs became louder and deeper, racking the emaciated body, until even the very intestines of the child seemed to be drawn up into the bony chest. Through the uncontrolled shaking and sobbing only one word slipped out into the dank air of the alley. It escaped and drifted away on steam from vents in the pavement, "Mommeeeee!" It was a cry of anguish and helplessness, of longing and heartache. Only one single word, yet it held within it the entire spirit of a child. The alley was deserted and little Jo was well hidden behind the mountain of refuse bags and boxes. The cry had come only once, yet someone heard, and someone came. Big Boy had just turned into the mouth of the short alley when he heard the cry. He stood rooted to the paving, long gone emotions suddenly rising within himself. The word, which rang clear and crisp in the alley, was steeped in anguish and longing. It was a word, a precious name, Big Boy had almost forgotten, but one that still reoccurred in his dreams too. Dreams in which his mother's face was wrenched away from him forever by an incurable illness. Other faces also swam through his dreams. Aunts, uncles, strangers - all people who did not want to be burdened with a small orphan. He had run away and joined the children of the streets where no person bothered to look for him. His name had been Jonathan then, but as he grew and became strong and tall for his age, the others called him Big Boy. A name that stayed. Cautiously Big Boy walked down the narrow alley and with ears finely tuned into every sound on the streets, he stopped before the mound of boxes and garbage bags. Bending low, he crept in behind them, but was somehow not surprised to find Jo there. A small figure of humanity shaking

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uncontrollably, the eyes that met Big Boy's were swollen and red, but it was the fear and immense longing and heartache that struck deep into the older lad and he took the tiny person into his arms. Slowly, gently, he backed out of the tunnel the garbage bags had formed and still cradling Jo, walked out of the alley. He hesitated, as if making up his mind, then turned down the street and crossing over, went in the direction of a Juvenile Welfare Centre a few blocks away. As he walked he spoke softly, "I try Jo, I really try," he said to the frail human being he held against his chest. "But perhaps that is just not enough. I think it is better if you go to these people. They're good and kind. Maybe they'll even find your mommy." Jo stirred in Big Boy’s arms and he held on tighter. "Just remember we will always be your brothers. And Jo, The Pledge stays the same no matter where you are. " Tears stabbed at the young teenager's eyelids and to steady himself, he began to chant the words of The Pledge. The words cadenced with the rhythm of his strides and as he neared the Juvenile Welfare Centre, he knew he had made the right decision. On his short trek back from the Centre, Big Boy walked slowly, his footsteps heavy. His arms that had only a while ago held little Jo so tightly, felt empty and abandoned and his chest against which the sobbing little face had pressed, was hollow and an ache lay thick inside. Pulling his cap down low over his eyes, he kicked at a matchbox lying on the pavement. He still had to face the others and they would probably not approve of his 'giving Jo away.' But he was convinced he had done the right thing. The lady at the Centre had been so kind and gentle. She had stroked Jo's hair, and even gave them both sweets and apples. Big Boy felt in his pocket, the apple she gave him was still there. A nurse had taken Jo away and for a moment Big Boy had panicked when she closed the inside door behind her. Jo had clung to .Big Boy, small fingers clutching at his T-shirt with a vice-like grip, and as the nurse removed the terrified child from Big Boy's arms, the T• shirt had ripped. But that did not matter because the other lady gave him a new one. Big Boy smoothed his hand over the T-shirt he now wore. She had kept the old one. When Jo had gone with the nurse, the lady at reception took down all particulars and filled in the date. The details were sketchy, because Big Boy could only relate what Jo had told him. As Big Boy strolled absentmindedly down the crowded pavements and across the busy streets, a longing for the gentle, yet headstrong, child had already begun to well up inside him. Emotions began to tangle in his mind and he sighed as he remembered how he and the other boys had found Jo many long months ago. It had been a cold blustery day when they came across the half-starved little mite huddled in an old disused telephone booth. Its big eyes wild with hunger and fear, they had taken the foundling into their street family, accepting him as if he was close kin to them all. Reaching the Beef Burger Centre, Big Boy glanced up at the round clock in the tower above the entrance as it struck the hour of six. The exact time the family had planned to meet. Only now Jo would not be there. He wondered how he was. Probably all bathed and spruced up by now. Big Boy chuckled - Jo would have hated that! In fact he could not recall ever actually seeing him bath. As he walked down the alley behind the Beef Burger shop he saw Niilo, Rob and Donnie standing together. But then he paused, for even from where he stood he could see they were arguing, with Donnie appearing to be the centre of the fracas. "Hey you guys!" Big Boy called. "What gives with the words and the bullying?" "Hi Big Boy! This street loafer lost Jo,” Rob sneered and glared at Donnie. He had a hand on Donnie's shoulder and gave him a rough shake. "Honestly Big Boy," Donnie's voice rang with panic. "I didn't lose Jo. I went off to the other side of the car park. One minute Jo was there, chatting up a woman and her child. Next thing I look and he's gone." "That's okay Donnie," Big Boy smiled and brushed Rob's hand off the younger boy's shoulder. "Leave the kid. Jo is safe. Let's go home before it gets dark then I'll tell the story." Each boy gathered up the haul he had made, and retraced his steps of that morning. Down the large storm water drain, up the steep embankment where. Jo had slipped and fallen earlier, across the disused scrapyard and to their home in the old abandoned warehouse. It was growing dark when they crawled in through the hole in the giant door and Big Boy quickly lit two candles. He first made them

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display their takings of the day, then after dividing up all the edibles, he told the story of what had happened to Jo. How he had heard the heart rending cry of "Mommeee ...” echoing in the deserted alley and how he had found Jo hiding behind a mountain of garbage bags, crying uncontrollably. Big Boy looked at each boy in tum. "I had to do what I did." He paused. "I took Jo to the Juvenile Welfare Centre." "You did what?" shouted Niilo and the effort made him cough. "You took our little brother and left him at that, that jail? You must be crazy!" The other two glanced at one another, not sure what to say. Big Boy was their leader and one didn't just blurt out at one’s leader. Anyone on the streets knew that. "Let Big Boy explain," interrupted Rob. Niilo nodded, only too pleased to have been exonerated from something that would have been, in the world of the streets, tantamount to mutiny. And sidewalk-punishment was something every street child feared. Big Boy let his eyes rest on each in turn then addressed himself directly to Niilo. "Firstly - the Juvenile Welfare Centre is not a jail,” he said firmly, a note of annoyance in his voice. "It is a lovely place. All clean and light and full of beautiful posters. The ladies are kind and gentle, and the way they treated Jo and me, they are obviously full of love too." He glanced down and examined his rough, dirty fingernails. "Something we guys have almost forgotten," he said. He was quiet for a moment, then looked up again. "They took Jo in and will look for his mother. If they don't find her, they’ll place him in a foster home with kind people who love children. Jo has a right to have a real home and parents, to be loved and taken care of. Here on the streets he would, just like us, have nothing." Niilo suddenly looked sorry for his outburst, but then he coughed again and sniffed loudly, and without thinking, spat on the floor of the warehouse. He was immediately reprimanded by Big Boy. "Watch your manners, my man,” he said. "You blow your nose, not sniff and spit. Street urchins do that, not us." Niilo apologised and pulling a piece of rag from his pocket proceeded to blow his nose politely. "I've got a cold Big Boy," he said. "It's bad." Big Boy was looking at him closely then he frowned. "Living on the streets is no good for your health Niilo. With your weak chest you really have the right to decent food, a warm bed and proper medicines. You shouldn’t have to work to survive. According to the law, kids under the age of fourteen are not allowed to work anyway, and none of us is older than that. I read a whole long list of children’s rights stuck on the Juvenile Welfare Centre's wall. For sure, the way we live is just not on." The others were staring at Big Boy, mixed feelings playing across each face in tum. Then Niilo leant forward and fingered the new T-shirt Big Boy was wearing. It had a bright Namibian flag printed on the front. "Where did you get this?" he asked. "Jo tore my old T-shirt," Big Boy answered. "And a lady at the Centre gave me a new one." "Wish I had one," put in Rob, but then he paused as a crash of thunder vibrated through the building and split lighting forked between the jagged cracks in the walls. He looked upwards. "Where did that storm creep up from? It'll be cold in here again tonight when the rain starts dripping through that roof," he said. The next morning Big Boy held his usual roll-call, then sat up straight atop his old foam rubber mattress and began, "I know you guys feel unhappy about what I did with Jo," he said seriously. "So to get things straight, I want you to open up and each gives his opinion. Niilo you go first." Big Boy studied the three faces before him as he listened to their respective views. None of them was totally convinced he had done the right thing, and before long the discussion became somewhat heated. The last thing Big Boy wanted was in-house fighting, so signalling for silence, he said,

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"Hold it, hold it. To settle this matter once and for all, I will go to the Juvenile Welfare Centre this afternoon and find out exactly what has happened to Jo. You guys agree?" "Only on one condition," answered Rob for all three. "That we go with you." Late that afternoon when the little street family entered the reception area of the Juvenile Welfare Centre they cut four fine young figures, for they had washed their faces and hair and their clothes were clean. "Good evening young gentlemen, what can we do for you?" a lady asked her manner friendly and kind. However Big Boy was momentarily worried and paused as he went up to the desk. "It's not the same lady," he whispered aside to the others. "She’s not the lady who took Jo from me." But then he cleared his throat. "Yesterday I brought in a little boy and left him here," he said. "We have come to find out how he is." The lady took a file down from a shelf and asked, "When did you say you came in?" "Yesterday. The 31st of October," Big Boy answered. The other three boys pressed closer as the lady opened the file, "That was a very busy day," she said, "five children were brought in and left here." She looked up at the four pair of eyes and noticed how they lit up instantly. "But I am so sorry - they were all girls. No boys are recorded for the 31st." Big Boy stared at the woman, then at the others beside him. Panic began to rise in his chest and he gripped the edge of the reception desk. "He must be there,” he said and swung round, looking at a closed door. "Where is the lady who was here yesterday? She'll know. I gave him to her." The woman shook her head. "She doesn’t work here any longer. Her contract expired on the last day of October." She too began to look worried and glanced from one boy to the other. In their faces was fear and anger. Then she saw the three younger ones turn on the oldest boy. "Where's he? Huh, Big Boy?" Niilo spoke through his teeth. The other two stood on either side of him, their eyes reflecting the panic and fury expressed in his tone. Contrary to his usual example of politeness in front of his family, Big Boy banged on the desk with a fist. "I left that little boy with the Juvenile Welfare Centre. I trusted you!" he shouted, suddenly losing control. "It was not even twenty• four hours ago. What have you done with our little Jo?" The lady glanced down at the file once more then a strange expression crossed her face. She looked at the boys before her. "What did you his name is?" she asked. "Jo,” Big Boy answered, his voice racked with fear and remorse. If only he had taken Jo back to the warehouse instead. "You can read can’t you?" the lady asked of Big Boy, a questioning expression in her eyes. Big Boy inclined his head and she slowly turned the large file round. "Well, read for me and your brothers what the third entry on the 31st of October says." Big Boy frowned, not quite comprehending, but calmed down as he began to read out loud. "Entry: 31st October, 16.30: street child brought in by young teenage boy. Background: Ran away from abusive male relative after mother was hospitalised. Mother: Marcia Jacobs Traced. Collected her child 1st November. Age of Child: 5 years Child's Name: Jolene Martha Jacobs. (Also known as Jo.) Child's Gender: Female." There was a deathly silence as Big Boy backed away from the file as if it were some live reptile ready to strike, and stared at the other members of his family. They were staring back, their eyes no longer angry, but wide with disbelief. It was young Donnie who found his tongue first. "A' a female? Does that mean Jo was a girl?" he stammered. The lady nodded and smiled at the boys. "Yes. Your Jo was not your little brother, but your little sister." "A girl? Our Jo was a girl?" each boy repeated in turn. Big Boy began to laugh and suddenly everyone was laughing. Happy incredulous laughter that was echoed by the staff as it rang throughout the Juvenile Welfare Centre. Delighted laughter that at once bonded the children with the kind, friendly people.

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"May we come back tomorrow?" asked Big Boy suddenly and looked at the other three who nodded vigorously. He bit on his bottom lip and cleared his throat. "Perhaps you could find a home somewhere for us too." "Yes of course you can come back! And as a matter of a fact we do have a home for you. A big home divided into cottages, and each cottage has a mother and father. There's a swimming pool and a basketball court and a gym, and there’s a super school nearby,” the lady smiled, but then she frowned. "You will come back won’t you?" she added. "It is very important you realize that in our country every child is entitled to parents, to a real name, to a home and to have a full tummy everyday." She touched Big Boy on the shoulder, "You're doing a wonderful job under the circumstances, but it is just not right that you live like stray puppies on the streets." Big Boy smiled broadly, “Yes ma’ is we will be back. My boys deserve the best and it is time I gave it to them. But one request ma' am, please may we stay together? We all belong to different ethnic groups - Donnie is Herero, Rob is Baster, Niilo is Ovambo and I’m white, but we're brothers. In our family there is no discrimination. We're all equal and the only reason I am leader is my age." "Of course. We would never dream of separating you." Still smiling, Big Boy turned to the other boys. "Come, let's go. We haven't much to pack, but we have to say a decent goodbye to the warehouse, it's been good to us." Politely Donnie, Niilo, Rob and Big Boy said goodbye to the ladies and filed quietly from the building, but as soon as they were out of hearing of the Juvenile Welfare Centre, they whooped and slapped hands, ran and leapt. Joyous reactions that exposed the bravado that had belied the longings they had hidden for so long. And as the dark city streets echoed with their laughter, they made their way back to the warehouse where they would gather their meagre belongings together and where the hessian bag little Jolene had slept under for all those months, still lay rolled up in her comer. Story by Marialena Van Tonder. (2002). Namibia in Balance: A portrayal in short stories. Namibia Institute for Democracy.