Inspiring Visit to Kenyan School
By Thomas H. Brillat
The Providence Journal
The solid wall runs parallel to the dusty, pot-holed road. A cleared area just off the road provides room for two or three vehicles to park near the iron gate that allows access through the wall. On most days there are no parked vehicles. Nonetheless, there is a beehive of activity within the wall.
You see, the wall defines the boundary between the daily struggle of life ― a situation common throughout much of Kenya ― and the opportunity for a vibrant future. The wall offers sanctuary and hope, protection and confidence, learning and discovery. Behind the wall lives are changed. The wall has a multi-colored sign painted on it: ``Mwea Primary School ― Forward Ever."
A Kenyan friend, Njoki Kimotho, showed me her village, her home and, most importantly, her school. The Mwea Primary school is a place where the culture of learning is serious business. It is a place where children and faculty diligently work to move forward.
The day of my visit was book day. New books! Excitement, anticipation and a nervous energy infected everyone. I arrived at recess. The combination of new books and a break from class resulted in the type of organized chaos that teachers witness daily at schools around the world. Pick-up games broke out in the schoolyard. Children rummaged through lunch pails. Others ― many others, were interested in the stranger walking around the campus.
It seems I was an instant hit ― or most likely an oddity. I waded into the crowds of happy young faces and began to click away with my digital camera. Hands groped at my trousers while an army of little people craned their necks to see the pictures on the viewing screen of my camera. Their shrieks of delight at the images are etched in my memory. After meeting with the principal and several teachers, and talking with a few children, I wandered past all the buildings. I poked my nose in doors or windows. I observed. I watched and listened. It was school, like anywhere else. But, I was also searching.
On the wall outside is another sign. It is written in much smaller letters. It says the Mwea School is also home to an adult-education class. I am the senior executive at an adult-education program in Rhode Island. Although I was in Kenya for an international adult-education meeting, when I had the opportunity to learn about the Kenyan elementary system at the Mwea School I jumped at the chance.
There is a close relationship between what happens to children in elementary and secondary school -- and the subsequent extended needs of adults who do not complete their basic education. Discovering an adult class at Mwea School was a marvelous coincidence.
Njoki guided me down the path to the end of the line of classroom buildings. She pointed across the dirt path to a separate building removed from the others. The adults have their own classroom, as well they should. What luck! We arrived just as class was about to begin.
The room was familiar yet foreign. Books, tables, chairs, blackboard, chalk. Heck ― chalk dust! All familiar. Reinforced iron bars in the ceiling and windows. Solid iron door and most notably ― a large safe ― walk-in bank vault size! All foreign. Books and materials were kept locked up. Books and materials were locked up!?! Every night! Inside a vault! Textbooks, readers, thin chemistry manuals, arithmetic worksheets are secured, protected and treasured for what they are. Opportunities. And there are only so many -- books and opportunities.
Finally, the adult students, themselves. Oh so familiar. Adult learners at the Mwea School abandoned their education when they were younger for the same reasons adult learners in my program do. They needed to work. They were bored. Didn't get along with a teacher. Got pregnant. Etc, etc. And adult students at the Mwea School returned to school for the same reasons as my students. Hope to get a better job. Prepare for higher education. Set a good example for the family. Fulfill a life's goal. Etc. etc. We are ― all the same ― not foreign at all.
By the time I left Kenya it was apparent to me that the value of education is an integral part of the Kenyan culture. They believe and are taught from the time they are born that education can provide a future with endless potential. Kenyans young and old walk miles to learn. Adult students reach deep into shallow pockets to pay their teachers. They come to class at inconvenient times. Simply put: Kenyans go to great lengths to acquire knowledge. Their lives and stories are testaments of motivation and determination.
The 800 children of the Mwea Primary School are proud and aware of the significance of being able to put on their blue and yellow uniforms and walk through the gate each day. And the dozen adults? If they made the uniforms in larger sizes they would be leading the parade.
Thomas H. Brillat is president of the Education Exchange in Wakefield, Mass. www.edxchange.org) For more stories visit scrippsnews.com