Hartley Neita

A vision of a policeman appearing and grabbing me in my pants-waist and dragging me to the police station floated before me.

Two years after I began my secondary education and was boarding at Jamaica College (JC), my sister won the Clarendon Parish Scholarship and chose to attend St. Andrew High School for Girls. Like me, she boarded at the school.

The boys' half of this scholarship was won that year by Leo Lawson, and my father who was the headmaster of the school they attended was the toast of the village. Leo chose to attend JC. I was not yet a big boy to prevent him from being initiated.

'Sister schools'

When I began my schooling at JC, I discovered that the elder boys had been protesting a discriminatory decision taken in 1941 by the schools committee which administered the Manning Cup competition to grant free entry to Manning Cup games to Alpha girls, when St. George's played matches, to St. Hugh's girls to all Kingston College games, and Wolmer's girls to all Wolmer's Boys' School games.

Two years later, there was success. JC's 'sister school', girls from St. Andrew High were allowed to see, free of charge, all Manning Cup matches in which JC took part. Poor Calabar, the other school which played in the competition, had no sister school. They took revenge on us by winning the Cup that year.

There were, of course, rules which were imposed on the girls by their headmistresses. They had to sit and stand together at Sabina Park where the games were played, guarded by mistresses and prefects.

My sister could not appear to know me. She dared not smile at me or wave a hand.

Visiting my sister

Now, I did not know that the girls at the school were under this sort of regimen. So on the first Saturday after my sister began to attend St. Andrew, I received permission from a master to visit her. I took the tramcar to Half-Way Way Tree, walked to Cecelio Avenue and entered the gate of the school.

A number of girls who were sitting on benches in a garden in front of the main building hurriedly stood and walked away.

A short, plumpish lady appeared on the steps of the building.

"Where are you going, young man?" she asked.

I replied very politely. I told her my name and that I had come to visit my sister.

"Is she expecting you?" I was asked.

"No Mam," I replied.

"And do you have a letter from your parents identifying who you are?"

"No Mam."

"Well, you cannot see her. Please leave the premises at once, or I will send for the police."

A vision of a policeman appearing and grabbing me in my pants-waist and dragging me to the police station floated before me.

I walked quickly to Half-Way Tree and took the tramcar back to my school.