Coming from a popular metro like Pretoria, a sudden ego begins to grow as one enrols in an institution that centres its city’s activities. “A big boy like myself cannot fit in a small town.” At first, this attitude served as a shield against the fear of leaving home, let alone moving to a new town. Of course, with the way varsity life is structured, it was short-lived. There is no time to properly settle in; you check into your new home today, and before you know it, you’re taking your first test.

When will I find the time to stand out and introduce myself as the cool boy from “fashionable” Pretoria? There isn’t any time.

Adopting this new way of doing things was a difficult task. By the time we were preparing for the second test, I was still trying to make friends and find the lecture hall, whose name I couldn’t even pronounce. The first semester of my first year was spent trying to find my bearings. In the second semester, I decided to join the various societies that were available to me.

That was when I realised I had my biggest challenge ahead of me, one that would follow me throughout my university experience and beyond.

I completed my matric at a CBD school (those that are in flats and are the size of a kindergarten, are often illegal, and are referred to as “Fly-By-Nite”). Fortunately, I went to a registered one; I made sure of that! These schools rarely prepare you for or expose you to the types of degrees available at the university level. The one thing they do flawlessly is ensure that you fully pay their “precious school fees.” In these schools, teaching is scarce; students are frequently given so much free time to participate in extracurricular activities. For these reasons, the majority of students, including myself, pursue degrees in the arts.

Once you’re in university, you’ll notice that it’s not very accommodating to students who aren’t taking the “mainstream” courses (accounting, medicine, and law, if I may call them that). I had to face this head on; no one takes a BA degree seriously, and the societies aren’t really for the creative.

Throughout my university career, I was forced to question the value of my degree while also considering the possibility of being unemployed after graduation. It seemed like a third of my university was studying the same thing. Who knows if this is true in other institutions, and who will hire all of those graduates?

My reality had deflated into a slew of unanswered questions. Why am I not pursuing a mainstream degree that will allow me to easily find work? Will I be able to maintain my current lifestyle? What’s the point of studying if I’m going to be unemployed?

It’s the final semester of my degree programme, and I’m still trying to make a name for myself in this small town. My prospects are the same as the rest of my peers, despite the fact that the boy from the fashionable town isn’t as cool. The system is awaiting the arrival of more unemployed graduates.