When Mr D was 55, he was involved in a horrific motor accident. For a couple of days his life hung in the balance, but he pulled through, although the recovery took several months. Unfortunately, his medical aid was not sufficient for the severity of his injuries, so he borrowed from his pension. When the Road Accident Fund finally paid out, most of the award was gobbled up by the lawyers.

Mr D returned to school, but he was not quite the teacher he had been before the accident. For the rest of his career, he played financial catch-up. Fortunately, his recovery had become an urban legend in the school, and everyone did their best to pitch in for him when he needed a helping hand. From time-to-time, things slipped his mind, but either a teacher or a learner would make sure that what had to be done was done even if Mr D didn’t quite do all of it.

When Mr D turned 65 the school HR called him in and explained that when he retired the school would continue to pay a portion of his medical aid. His pension, too, would be paid from the school as he had been there the best part of twenty years. Mr D agreed to leave at the end of the year, in December.

In September the Principal called Mr D in. Three matric prelim exam papers were missing from his marking. Mr D said the papers had not been given to him, but he had signed for twenty-eight papers, and only marked twenty-five. Mr D said he did not check the number of papers when he signed – but the Principal was unimpressed. It was, she said, dereliction of duty (one of the lost papers belonged to the son of the Chairman of the Board). There would be a disciplinary hearing. Mr D was shocked. In twenty years at the school, he had never been called to a disciplinary hearing.

The well-tailored lawyer, who chaired the hearing, found Mr D guilty, and dismissed him. As the lawyer left the room the Principal shook his hand warmly, and was overheard to say,

“Thank you, very good outcome.” Somehow, it doesn’t sound very good to me.

Mr D was bewildered, but upbeat. He believed he still had his pension coming. He was just leaving two months earlier than expected. But when his son insisted that he consult a Labour Lawyer he discovered that because he had been dismissed and not retired the school would not have to pay his medical aid, and there would be no pension – they would simply pay out what he had put in.

Mr D had two months to his date of retirement. Surely, to plunge him into financial turmoil at this point in his career is overkill? Mr D had spent his career inculcating the old adage into learners – it’s not whether we win or lose, it’s how we play the game. Is this how management plays a “good” game? To describe his dismissal as a “good outcome” feels uncomfortably analogous to the 1st rugby team refusing the shake hands with their opposition, or the 2nd cricket team laughing when a batsman is hit in the face by a bouncer.

Schools are rightfully proud to promulgate values that eschew bullying, promote camaraderie among learners and staff, laud kindness and giving people a second, and third chance. Surely these same values should apply when management finds itself unhappy with the performance of a member of staff?

I am delighted that Mr D will appeal the ruling and take it to the CCMA. But I would be a lot happier if I saw more evidence that the management of schools is as dedicated to antibullying – particularly of the vulnerable – as they expect their teachers to be.