It seemed to take ages to get organised this morning, so by the time we were nearly ready to go to the school, it was after eight o’clock. Rosie and I were to meet with Mr Chalala and go over the reports and accounts and Keith would be able to start some computer tuition, for as long as the batteries in the two computers lasted. In bending forward slightly, Keith did something to his back which put him in agony and unable to move. It was very scary, and after a little while he was able to lower himself on to the bed, still in great pain. He was grey in the face and clearly not well. Nevertheless, he would not consider ringing the school to say that he could not come so we waited until he could stand and the Panadols had kicked in.
We finally arrived after nine o’clock, after a very slow and agonising walk for Keith. During it we had passed a teacher escorting a student, who had a cloth held to his head. He had been injured while carrying roofing iron for the builders. We were to learn that it is a regular activity to assist the builders in carrying materials and water; something that would be unthinkable in an Australian school. Here, however, the minor labour provided by the students meant that the funds supporting the building projects would go further. Students incapable of the tasks due to size or other issues were not expected to participate and it must be remembered that even the students in Form 1 could be in their late teens and physically very strong. It also reflects an ethos that involves everyone to his or her capacity in projects that benefit them all.
Rosie and my meeting with Mr Chalala went well, with some nitty gritty items sorted out and the purpose and future content of reports more clearly explained, amid a thousand courtesies.
Madam Simbee had been the first teacher to have a turn on the computer, but now she stopped to prepare morning tea for us of scones, a cake and tea; treats we had not expected to find in this area and which she had made. Rosie was given the rest of the cake to take home for the family, and she departed, worrying about how the boys were, having been away longer than the hour or so that she had intended.
Morning tea in the staffroom. Left to right: Christine, Madam Simbee, Rosie, Mr Chalala (Head Master)
Now at last I was going into a classroom with Madam Simbee.
There is a National Curriculum with a system of exams, so the reality of teaching here involves using the nationally developed text books. In Farkwa, that means sharing texts that belong to the school, and in many classes, working in groups. We looked at the texts for the different levels in English and I also read the textbooks in Civics, and the level of English proficiency required is quite high. Bearing in mind that English is taught as a subject at primary school level, with the instruction in other subjects being given in Swahili, the jump to Form 1, where instruction in all subjects starts in English, is enormous.
The topic for the lesson was ‘Non-Factual Information’, a term that I was not familiar with. It referred to information that is subjective; not based on research, or the result of biases or prejudices. The Form 2 group were grappling with comprehending the passage which they were reading, as well as looking for the indicators of non-factual information within it. The same passage was read aloud several times by different students and pronunciation was corrected by the class as a whole. Now and then Madam Simbee would ask a student to go back and re-read a sentence that had had many interruptions, to ensure that it was read correctly.
Now and then she would explain things in Swahili. She told me that she had encouraged a quiet person by saying that they were not marrying the students beside them so there was not need to be shy and not speak out loud. This was funny to me and the students, but also says something about expectations in courtship. The ages of the students, up to 21 years, and the expectation of fairly early marriage, particularly for girls, means that there are many courting couples among those in school uniform, and pregnancy is a reason for some people to drop out of secondary school and even of primary school. Some students in this situation, supported by their families, return to studies later.
Madam Simbee is a teacher who makes good use of humour, but has high expectations of the students and expects hard work from all of them. Everyone was set the same task to complete a series of exercises in the text book. After a point was made, Madam Sinbee would ask, ‘Clear?’ and all the students would reply in unison ‘Yes Madam.’ She also kept everyone on their toes by requiring answers in unison to questions on the lesson focus.
This was a one of the double Form 2 classes, so there were about fifty students in it. There was total, undivided attention during the lesson and quiet discussion during the time when the students started the exercises. I was sharing a textbook with a group of four students, and it was difficult to read small print in such a group. The group work encouraged students to assist each other and to speak in English, but it was certainly born of necessity. I know of at least one student at Farkwa whose parent was asked to pay for a desk so that he would have a seat. It explained why, in a school with absolutely no graffiti, some desks had a name on the front in big white letters. So we are talking about the very basics required for making progress at school; teachers, books, pens and desks. We left the class, who worked on, and who would complete their tasks in other unsupervised times in the afternoons.
We had gone to the class at a time when another subject had been timetabled, but it had been a subject for which there was no teacher. Sometimes the teachers filled in for the subjects and sometimes the students worked on from the text books. Two teachers assigned to the school had ‘run away’. The central system of eduction allocates teachers to schools, and teachers can end up anywhere. Farkwa, being a remote rural village, does not have much appeal, particularly to younger teachers, who simply walk away from their posts, report back and get relocated. It takes a long time for replacements to be organised. This happened with two teachers here and one replacement is due to arrive in the next week or so.
While I had been enjoying being with the students, Keith was starting his introduction to the computer with various teachers, with it really being a case of starting from scratch in understanding how files, folders and saving works and in managing the mouse. We take for granted the computer skills we have acquired over many years, but it is within my memory that they were introduced to staff at my school and we were all learning to manage files and being amazed at all the word processing tools.
The batteries were exhausted, but the electrician had arrived to install the solar panel, and now some problems to do with length of wire and parts missing were being solved.
Madam Simbee instructed a small group of students to escort us home and the girls instantly clutched my hands. Half way down the hill we saw the bus coming up the hill when, suddenly, it stopped and a large cloud of smoke began billowing from it. Rosie said later that she had heard that the disaster prone bus’s engine had caught on fire.
After lunch Keith had a sleep – his back was still hurting, particularly when he was sitting down, which was nearly all the time. When Keith went over to the
There are times of great activity here, such as in preparation for meal times, in hand washing, collecting wood or water, and times of great inactivity when people sit around chatting or doing nothing. I have never been good at doing nothing, and always spend sitting time reading, writing, doing a craft activity or talking. Now talking is rather off the list for me at home (except with Keith, Rosie, Ticha and Sebi) for anything beyond pleasantries level, although it is amazing how much we can communicate with gestures.
I had nearly finished my sewing and had put the first zip in on the front pocket. I quickly packed up my sewing project when Keith came home, so that we could give the presents that we had brought for the adult family members – Italian scarves and Spanish fans and a French shirt for Fidelisi. Everyone was pleased, and Maria and Inyasia modelled theirs with lots of flair. Gracia wasn’t home so we gave hers to Inyasia to pass on.
I was keen to use the last half hour of daylight to put in the second zip so that my camera bag would be ready to use at school the next day, but I couldn’t find the zip anywhere. Darkness fell and it was too late to sew anyway, but the problem of where that zip had gone was niggling away in my head.
That night, in an interlude between goat noises, it hit me – I was convinced that it must have been caught up in the waistband of my skirt, a spot where I often pop things, and that it had fallen into the toilet. Oh no!
The new house for Ticha's parents under construction. The large bricks are made and fired locally. It was started two weeks ago.
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