Avuyile Bene, 29, has a university diploma but works as a garbage collector for Buffalo City Metro.
He was 23 when he graduated with a diploma in public relations from Walter Sisulu University (WSU) in 2010.
“I applied to 20 government departments nationally and in the Eastern Cape. I tried treasury, communications, health, correctional services and the SAPS on several occasions. I got no response, not one offer of an interview.”
A model student who in his second year chaired the WSU public relations student society, he even led a tour of corporations in Gauteng.
During his final-year internship working as a communications officer for the Queenstown police, he started a newsletter highlighting police successes and bravery and helped raise money through raffles and concerts to send the police choir to compete nationally in Bloemfontein.
When he took off his graduand’s cap and gown and mailed out his job application letter and CV, he expected work to come his way.
“Nothing happened. For nine months. But I fathered a child in 2009 and I was pushed to find work to support my boy.”
In desperation, he heeded a call from BCM to register for work and was given a job as a grass cutter. It was a free-fall of expectations which he struggles to come to terms with.
“I was in denial at first and could not reveal to my friends and family what work I was doing. I was too embarrassed.
“But you can’t hide forever. Life challenges you. I have responsibilities.”
Saturday Dispatch interviewed him in a granny-flat he rents in Cambridge.
“Every morning, I walk up to Queen Street to meet my son and we walk to school. I can’t give up. That boy needs me. There’s a lot to live for.”
At one stage, BCM did make use of his academic skills, among them media and business studies, communication science, psychology and public relations.
He was sent into the rougher areas of Southernwood and the CBD, officially as a “census officer”, but his actual job was to persuade informal businesses to register with BCM so refuse removal fees could be levied.
“Public relations is my passion. I was speaking to cellphone shop and bottle store owners. I used a friendly approach and registered a lot of them.”
But someone in the solid waste department took umbrage at the well-spoken, smart
worker.
“I walked in one day and was told get an overall and safety shoes and get on that truck.”
He’s been on the truck for three-and-a-half years and the dust and stench is unrelenting.
“I keep rubbing my eyes at night and my optometrist said I am losing strength in my left eye. I now have to wear glasses.”
He knows he has to study further – perhaps town planning, engineering or quantity surveying where there are jobs and money to be had later, or he might try to qualify as a traffic cop.
But eight-hour shifts and seven-day weeks “for overtime” are taking their toll.
“I come home exhausted. By 8.30pm I am fast asleep.”
He keeps going by reading newspapers online and on Sundays he takes his boy to Orient Beach for the “best day of their lives”.
Varsity diploma going to waste
He was 23 when he graduated with a diploma in public relations from Walter Sisulu University (WSU) in 2010.
“I applied to 20 government departments nationally and in the Eastern Cape. I tried treasury, communications, health, correctional services and the SAPS on several occasions. I got no response, not one offer of an interview.”
A model student who in his second year chaired the WSU public relations student society, he even led a tour of corporations in Gauteng.
During his final-year internship working as a communications officer for the Queenstown police, he started a newsletter highlighting police successes and bravery and helped raise money through raffles and concerts to send the police choir to compete nationally in Bloemfontein.
When he took off his graduand’s cap and gown and mailed out his job application letter and CV, he expected work to come his way.
“Nothing happened. For nine months. But I fathered a child in 2009 and I was pushed to find work to support my boy.”
In desperation, he heeded a call from BCM to register for work and was given a job as a grass cutter. It was a free-fall of expectations which he struggles to come to terms with.
“I was in denial at first and could not reveal to my friends and family what work I was doing. I was too embarrassed.
“But you can’t hide forever. Life challenges you. I have responsibilities.”
Saturday Dispatch interviewed him in a granny-flat he rents in Cambridge.
“Every morning, I walk up to Queen Street to meet my son and we walk to school. I can’t give up. That boy needs me. There’s a lot to live for.”
At one stage, BCM did make use of his academic skills, among them media and business studies, communication science, psychology and public relations.
He was sent into the rougher areas of Southernwood and the CBD, officially as a “census officer”, but his actual job was to persuade informal businesses to register with BCM so refuse removal fees could be levied.
“Public relations is my passion. I was speaking to cellphone shop and bottle store owners. I used a friendly approach and registered a lot of them.”
But someone in the solid waste department took umbrage at the well-spoken, smart
worker.
“I walked in one day and was told get an overall and safety shoes and get on that truck.”
He’s been on the truck for three-and-a-half years and the dust and stench is unrelenting.
“I keep rubbing my eyes at night and my optometrist said I am losing strength in my left eye. I now have to wear glasses.”
He knows he has to study further – perhaps town planning, engineering or quantity surveying where there are jobs and money to be had later, or he might try to qualify as a traffic cop.
But eight-hour shifts and seven-day weeks “for overtime” are taking their toll.
“I come home exhausted. By 8.30pm I am fast asleep.”
He keeps going by reading newspapers online and on Sundays he takes his boy to Orient Beach for the “best day of their lives”.
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