"There's a voice we're gonna hear. A voice so loud and clear, so let them see we can't do it, give us a mountain, and we're gonna move it."

I've been looking for a student at Amasango with a spark; somebody who, has in them, an indescribable something, a student who wants badly to succeed and is willing to put in the work to make it happen. Somebody who has not had it easy in life, and despite how hopeless it looks on the ground, refuses to give up hope; somebody who can still see the light at the end of the tunnel, even when the tunnel seems to stretch on forever and the light is just a dim flicker.

I think part of my disillusionment toward the end of last term was that I could no longer see the light at the end of the tunnel because so many kids who I'd tried to help couldn't see it either. The kids I poured time into, believed could do it, didn't believe in themselves. It's almost as though they had just put their hands up in defeat and given up. I've learned during my time here that I can give it my all--but if the kid doesn't want to better himself, I need to back off. While I can always leave the door open, the child needs to walk through it by themselves.

Zukisani Lamani walked through the door yesterday. He doesn't go to Amasango--he did. He went on to high school in the township, went on to drop out, went on to get a job at a local supermarket and pizza shop, and decided, he wanted to go on and finish high school.

He's approached me on the street a couple times, telling me he really wants help and needs somebody to tutor him. We'd talk for a couple minutes, and then he'd run off each time to go....to get books and study at the public library.

He is 22. He's my age. He's going into grade 12 and wants badly to transfer schools. He is at a school that is failing in its mission to educate its learners. The teachers don't teach. They're often not in the room. The computers that were in the building just disappeared. The school gave him a certificate for "The Highest Grade" in one of his subjects, then went on to fail him in it.

Rather than shrink back and accept what was happening, Zukisani wrote letters to the Education Department telling them about his problem, he's gone to the local office and requested to switch schools, he's gotten Jane involved, and he's gotten me involved too, even though I function as little more than a cheerleader for his cause, at least I'm a small part of it.

He's uncomfortable about the enemies he's made in the process, but he says that he's trying to learn and he has every right to be at a decent school with teachers who instruct. This kid wants and education--and he's going to get one, damn it!

We met yesterday in the library to have our first tutoring session. He came prepared with his books, a pencil and paper. We worked for an hour before he and I went to the Education Dept. to follow up on his complaints.

Zukisani has got a spark. He's got that indescribable something. He wants, more than anything, to learn, to succeed, and he's not going to let poverty, the violence that surrounds him in the township, or the bureaucracy from the Department of Education stand in his way.

We just got out of our second tutoring session an hour or so ago. Zukisani, a poor guy from the township who was born into a socioeconomic group that doesn't generally have a voice, has discovered his own. He's used his voice and made a lot of noise, made a lot of people angry from his former school, but also gained a lot of supporters. Myself, Jane and a librarian at the public library are cheering on the side lines and helping where we can. Tomorrow, he meets with the head of the Education Department to discuss the transfer.

Zukisani can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And now, because of his optimism and his indomitable spirit, I can (again) too.