School of saintly goals

A double-volume dining hall straight out of Hogwarts, a bronzed pair of Desmond Tutu’s shoes, a World War 1 soldier’s bicycle embedded in a gnarled old tree trunk and a large sign ordering “Silence in the Cloisters” all feature in the remarkable world of one of Johannesburg’s oldest schools. 

Steeped in tradition, bound by brotherhood, nestled in Houghton — the hallowed campus of St John’s College this month marks its 125th anniversary. It’s a deeply respected school that has served as a place of learning for a host of luminaries and ordinary men alike, giving them the privilege of an elite education in a genteel setting. 

“There’s a special sense of community here. You feel set apart and centred in a place where you are taught to acknowledge your own self-worth while experiencing a sense of bonding and brotherhood with those around you, whether they look like you or not,” said Aphiwe Nqumba, 18, the school’s “custos” or appointed guardian of history, culture and tradition. 

“The school was founded in 1898 in Plein Street in town as a place to develop male voices for St Mary’s church and train minds for academic excellence,” Nqumba explained when taking the Sunday Times on a guided tour of the school he has grown to love. 

The school relocated to its current grounds in 1907 with funding from the likes of Thomas Cullinan and Sir Herbert Baker, who designed the first building. 

A wooden box for prayer requests stands outside the chapel where, to quote the school’s 16th executive head Stuart West, “as you enter you feel a sense of being part of something much greater than yourself. It’s a reminder that you are called to something better.”

West was appointed to head the school at the start of the Covid pandemic, and describes the job as “the culmination of my entire career”. 

“I love being part of a faith school with a community spirit and a deep sense of ethos. It’s not about same beliefs but rather about brotherhood and being,” he said, explaining that the school was as proud of old boys who lived good and ordinary lives as it was of those who blazed trails at the top universities in the world — MIT, Harvard, Brown, Oxford and the London School of Economics among them. 

You feel set apart and centred in a place where you are taught to acknowledge your own self-worth while experiencing a sense of bonding and brotherhood with those around you 

—  Aphiwe Nqumba, pupil and custos

The school’s oldest old boy is Jack Hadfield, 96, class of 1944. Both his sons and one grandson are also Old Johannians, as were some of his best friends throughout his life — though all of them have passed on. His greatest friend from school, Prof Bud Lawson, died in 2019.

“I used to keep in touch with the school but I have been remiss of late as I have had some minor personal ailments. I am hooked up to an oxygen machine, my eyesight is bad and I gave up driving about 10 years ago. But by and large I am extremely fortunate, poor Penny less so as she looks after me and does all the driving,” he said, referring to the woman to whom he has been happily married for 72 years. 

Hadfield describes his life as “probably fairly ordinary” as he was an accountant, husband, father, grandfather and now “great grandfather of six-and-a-half with the half being anticipated”.

“I’ve had a lovely family life, broadly throughout which I have been cheerful and happy,” he said, Penny eagerly chiming in that their son David, 70, was recently awarded theOrder of the British Empire for services to sport in the late Queen Elizabeth’s 2022 honours' list. 

“It was for his contribution to boccia, which I understand is some kind of carpet bowls,” Penny said, happily describing how her son had had the honour bestowed on him by Prince William several months ago. 

Another old Johannian is Radio 702 host Aubrey Masango, who was a boarder until he matriculated in 1990. “My house master and his wife Wendy became my de facto parents as my own parents were splitting up and home was not cosy and warm,” he said. “With hindsight, those were the best years of my life.”

Beyond the “protective walls of St Johns”, he was not allowed to board a bus, struggled “to be a black boy at home” dealing with townships and consumer boycotts, and experienced, for the first time as a young adult, the challenges people of colour faced in apartheid South Africa. 

“In my last year the boys were all getting their army call-ups. Nobody told me I wouldn’t be because I am black. It was my Afrikaans teacher Meneer Preller — a delightful man, great grandson of Afrikaans literary great Gustav Preller — who had to explain things to me,” Masango said, referring to old hurts and anger. 

Jane Lane, headmistress of St John’s Pre-Preparatory, chair of the school’s heritage committee and an old girl of sister school St Mary’s, has a deep love for the institution she has taught at for 25 years. 

“St John's is a reservoir of hope, a place where I feel I can make a difference in someone's life, no matter how small,” she said. “At the end of each year, I love seeing the boys who we taught at the pre-prep go on to write matric in the college ... To see those sweet little poppets all grown up and hairy, with deep voices and lofty ambitions, is quite magical.” 

Sought-after conductor Kutlwano Masote is another old boy on whom the school had a significant influence. 

“As a professional musician, I still talk about how the school choir was able to break the back of Mozart's Requiem during a two-day choir camp at the beginning of 1991,” he told the Sunday Times.   

Another poignant tribute on the school campus is an old bicycle frame embedded high in the trunk of an old tree outside the music department. 

“That belonged to a boy who left it leaning next to the tree when he left school to be a soldier in World War 1. He never came back, but out of respect the boys that followed never touched his bicycle,” said Jacqueline Deeks, who handles the school’s marketing. 

Old Johannian and former chair of the school council Prof Jon Patricios commented: “It’s the only school I know where the rugby players sing as loudly as the choir boys, in the chapel and on the sidelines of the sports field.” 

Thulani Khanyile, current chair of the council of St John’s and one of the first to win a boarding and tuition Anglo Chairman’s Fund scholarship awarded to black children in the mid-1980s, was present when the school invited the late Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu to speak to the boys. 

“At the time he was seen as a troublesome priest and terrorist who brought politics into the church. Yet his inspiring address disarmed many as he passionately castigated the apartheid government’s injustices towards the oppressed majority that simply wanted to enjoy the rights that inhere in them as human beings. The speech was very well-received,” Khanyile said. 

Today, a pair of Tutu’s shoes sits “cast in bronze and set in stone” next to a bench in the school quad, where visitors are invited to “sit, reflect and slide your feet into (his) shoes ... and allow the abundant love of the world to fill your soul”. 

It’s an invitation, like the recently created Sounds of St John’s audio journey, that conjures up deep memories for those who know the place. From the chimes of the school bell (rung daily at 8am by clerk Patson Moshidi at the start of chapel), the school receptionist answering the phone and the splashing fountain through to the clanging in the dining hall, chanting preschoolers and singing in the chapel — it’s an evocative experience that captures the spirit of one of Joburg’s finest institutions.