Food Handlers are the heart and hands of the National School Nutrition Programme, and among the least recognised workers in public care programmes. This is Nomasonto Ngwenya’s story, in her own words.

I would like to share my journey as a Food Handler in the National School Nutrition Programme, which was my first ever job. When I received the message that I had been selected, I danced, I sang, and I praised God. It was a true blessing to be chosen, especially since so many parents had applied. I knew this job would bring a real change to my life. As a single parent, I was thrilled that I could make a difference in my children’s lives, and that my days of relying on others for survival were over.

I take great pride in being a Food Handler. It is a very important role in our community, yet it often goes unnoticed. Many people do not recognise it as a real job, simply because cooking is so often seen as women’s work. But we cook with love and care, for the children and for the whole school community. Cooking for children is a form of love.

Our society cannot thrive without care. We do our work diligently and affectionately, and the children feel it: they love and appreciate us because they can sense that our care is sincere. This job has taught me how to look after children, and how to talk with them. It has even made me a better mother to my own children, because I have learned to notice the emptiness a child feels when no one takes the time to see them, especially the girl child.

I can often tell when a child is unwell, just by watching them, even when they try to hide it. I can sense when a child is hungry. We learn a lot from a child’s lunchbox, or from their uniform. Every child is expected to bring their own plate or lunchbox to school. Bringing a plate from home teaches them responsibility: they look after it, instead of discarding it carelessly the way they otherwise might.

My favourite day is Thursday because the children enjoy the day menu. All of them eat on Thursdays. We serve pap, milk, and fruit. We always wash the fruit before serving it to teach the learners about hygiene, and to help them learn to love fruit and vegetables. Another thing that makes me happy is seeing the teachers enjoy our food. Some of them praise our cooking and eat it, even though school policy does not allow them to eat at school. They are drawn to the kitchen by the wonderful smells.

But I am unhappy about the lack of essential equipment like knives and spoons. We bring our own utensils to cook and serve the food at the school. It surprises me that the school cannot buy the kitchen utensils that we were told would be provided during our training. I had never used a gas stove before and I was terrified of it because of the stories I had heard. No one taught us how to use the stove.

I also came to realise that we are often seen as babysitters who happen to cook. At the start of the year, whenever the younger learners cried for their mothers, the teachers would bring them to the kitchen for us to comfort. They did not think about the dangers of a kitchen. Sometimes we even carried the little ones on our backs while we cooked because the meals still had to be served on time. And yet, when the school held functions and events, we were left out. They would ask us to cook for the event, but we were never invited to it. The next morning, we would start by washing the plates and pots used for the event. That made me sad, because it showed how invisible we were.

The teachers do not appreciate or acknowledge our work often. They blame us for stealing, or point out our mistakes, but they hardly ever mention the good we do. It showed me that Food Handlers are not respected, perhaps because we are mothers doing work that is undervalued even at home. This weighs heavily on my heart.

One Monday morning, while we were cooking pap and liver, a teacher walked into the kitchen and insulted us. We decided to ignore her and carry on with our work. After we had dished out the food for the Grade R to 3 learners, she came back to tell us that we did not know how to cook. She said, “You cook rubbish! Even the prisons do not serve such food. In fact, prisoners eat better.” I asked her not to say such things in front of the children, but she only grew louder. By now the children were already queuing outside, and still she continued, before finally leaving for her class. We carried on dishing. When the Grade 4 children had finished, we noticed a boy sitting near our serving station who was not eating. Concerned, I asked him why. He threw up his hands and replied, “I won’t eat, because you two cook rubbish.” This made me very angry, and I took the matter straight to the principal’s office.

The principal called in the teacher and asked the boy what he had said. The boy repeated the same words. Instead of reprimanding him, the principal and the teacher both laughed. I became even more angry, and I shouted at both the boy and the teacher. The principal told me not to worry about the boy because he was not hungry, and I went back to the kitchen.

Later, the principal came to the kitchen to reprimand me for my behaviour. He told me not to bring an attitude to his office and never to be so loud again. He insisted that the matter had to stay in the kitchen and must never be discussed again. I was surprised because that is not how incidents are usually handled at the school. Had the boy said those same words to a teacher, he would have been reprimanded, and his parents would have been called in. Yet I was expected to let it go.

I blamed myself for taking the matter to the office. That was the day I understood that I was not valued or taken seriously as a Food Handler. I began to hate my job. I realised that I must manage my anger so that the children would not be affected. From that day, I focused on the children and their happiness because they are the only ones who warm my heart.

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