Myaradzai and Mwoyochena Kadenege jumped from their father's pickup truck and ran into the Frank Johnson Elementary School.

There, along with 178 other black children, they are part of this nation's attempt to launch a multiracial society - after nearly nine decades of white dominance.

School integration is a symbol of the new social order the government has set as its objective. Racial discrimination is now banned in schools, hospitals, public places and residential areas.

What used to be two separate educational systems, "European" and "African," have been combined in Zimbabwe-Rhodesia - something South Africa steadfastly refuses to do, despite student protests and riots.

But integration is hedged with restrictions. To assuage the fears of white parents, the government has introduced regulations that effectively prevent many blacks from entering previously all-white schools.

Fees for these formerly all-white schools have been raised, and admission to a school is restricted to children whose parents own or rent property in the school's district.

Education official Phil Clifford explains this is necessary to "prevent an influx of a lot of kids into one school, and a lowering of the standards of the neighborhood."

This means that the children of domestic servants in affluent neighborhoods - where schools are less crowded - cannot go to the schools attended by the children of their parents' employers.

The most controversial aspect of the new educational system permits parents in some school zones to buy the local school and turn it into a private school. Private schools can set their own admission requirements, although the government insists racial restrictions are not allowed.

Government officials say these "community schools" will enable white communities to "preserve their spirit." About 25 of the formerly all-white schools already have gone this route, which blacks - and many whites - see as a way of keeping the schools either completely white or with at most a token black enrollment.

These measures, along with a failure to implement free compulsory education for all children, have opened the revised educational system to widespread criticism.

Like all major aspects of the new educational system, the provision for community schools cannot be altered except by a two-thirds vote in the Parliament - which the whites, if united, can prevent.

The system is criticized for not extending educational opportunities to most of the majority of the 6.8 million blacks that still lives in poverty.

"It's still racial discrimination," said Winnie Wakatama, a black housewife, "because they know our people cannot afford that kind of money" for schooling.

One white educator, who insisted upon anonymity, said the so-called "community schools" are "grossly immoral. Why should the government sell facilities paid for by taxpayers just so some whites can keep out blacks?" this educator asked. For many youngsters the change is meaningless in any case - about a third of the primary schools have been closed by the guerrilla warfare.

In the comfortable suburb of Alexandria Park, the primary school was the first in the nation to "go community." Headmaster Ken Downing denied that race had anything to do with the move.

"The parents here are all intelligent people and they agreed there would be no restrictions on color," Downing said. "It was a decision on their part to maintain standards, a sort of insurance policy. . . . They wanted to control what was taught and the size of the classes."

The new educational system has had its greatest impact on middleclass blacks such as the Kadeneges, who can afford to move into neighborhoods once restricted to whites. In Waterfalls, the suburbs served by the Frank Johnson school, houses sell for an average of $20,000.

"I'm very pleased they are getting a multiracial influence, which was lacking in our schools in the past," Fanuel Kadenege, a minister, said as he watched his two children go through the school door. "I prefer a multiracial education because then they are not deprived of what other people have in life."

Standing not far from Kadanege's truck, Sue Sadler, a white housewife, watched her son, Sean, enter the grounds of the school named for the leader of the column of British settlers who founded Salisbury 88 years ago.

Asked how she liked the new order, Sadler hesitated, then said: "Well, it's got to happen if we want to stay in Rhodesia. We've just go to accept it."