Monday, March 28, 2005
It is the midterm break at the school. Kim Nucifera (a PCV from Kigongo, north of Bukoba) and I took a bus to visit Maryknoll Sister Peg Donovan at the site she created in Kalebezo, “near” Sengerema. I’ve visited Sengerema by bicycle – a four hour ride plus a half hour ferry ride – we didn’t really think it would be much of a trip.
So we went to the ferry dock at 11:00 to catch a bus. They sold us tickets for the bus that would be there at 1:30 sure. We debated just taking the ferry without the bus, doubted the authority of the guys who sold us our tickets, fretted and equivocated. The dock is in a region where hawkers and beggars constantly harass and annoy. But we stuck it out, and had tea and mandazi (cake) from a peddler. Finally we decided to return our tickets, just as the bus arrived at 3:30pm. The bus was a huge old box with rust holes in the side, a little tread left on one or two tires, and glass in most of the windows. Along with the bus and a hoard of people, we piled onto the ferry. On the other side, the bus wheezed up the hill and stopped to wait for us. There is no queuing or waiting in line in Tanzania. People were crowding on – it looked like an oversized version of How Many People Can You Stuff In A Volkswagen. We were near the last to board. Our tickets had seat numbers on them and amazingly, the seats were waiting for us. All around and in the aisle people were piled like sardines, standing, sitting and sliding on the boxes and bags that covered the floor. Chickens gawked and squawked.
It had been raining nearly daily, it is the Short Rainy Season. The road, if you can call it that, was washed out, pitted and rutted. The bus slowly proceeded, rattling and lurching from hole to hole, at times stopping so the driver could figure out how to cross the next hurdle. Occasionally we would stop at a settlement of a few huts and throw a few boxes and bags out of a bus window while boys lowered bigger supplies from the top of the bus. It took three hours just to reach Sengerema.
In Sengerema I bought some oranges from a woman passing the bus while people and boxes were rearranged. We started off again, but only to a workshop, where everybody got off while a crew dragged an arc welding machine into the bus to repair the exhaust manifold. That took 45 minutes. We learned that the old bus frequently stops there for patches and repairs.
After Sengerema the road got worse, and by now it was getting dark. There was a full moon, and we could still see much of the starkly beautiful scenery as we rattled and groaned on by. At the villages we passed people were all lined up along the road to watch the bus pass by. We asked about how far it was to Kalebezo a few times, but it felt like children asking “Are we almost there yet.” The answer was always that it was one km farther. Some km.
About 3km from the REAL Kalebezo the bus trembled to a stop and the driver sat there for awhile, then turned off the engine. People were getting off the bus. We looked. There, where the road should have been, there was a small lake with three quite large trucks stuck in the middle of it, tilted at very unhealthy angles, half under water. They were not moving. Rice paddies on each side of the road made it clear that skirting the lake was not an option. We took pictures, then joined the people walking along the breastwork of a paddy to cross to the other side, wondering what we would do next.
Just at that time, a man greeted us half in English, half in Kiswahili. He had a radio telephone, and had been sent by Sr. Peg to meet us. He had a 4-wheel drive truck on the other side of the lake, and soon we were on our way for the short distance to the warm, welcome hospitality of Sr. Peg and her VEMA staff.
It had been a grueling ride, much longer than either of us had anticipated. But it was worth it. Sr. Peg is gregarious, and even though she was preparing to leave Tanzania for four months, she related many stories of how she had started VEMA, what struggles and surprises she had encountered, and what the VEMA accomplishments have been.
For two days, we enjoyed relaxing there. It rained both days, so it was a good opportunity to read and unwind. We left with Sr. Peg in an SV full of people and boxes, backpacks and suitcases. Peg drove, but her African driver was along also. He would bring the SUV back to VEMA, and on this trip he was delegated to first walk through the lake (and several other large puddles) to be sure the SUV could navigate the waters without submerging. We made it – Peg claiming that her personal angel had lifed the SUV through the lake. People were dropped off along the way – we were dropped off back in Mwanza, as Sr. Peg was off on her furlough.
Quite a woman. Quite a trip.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Sunday evening, March 20
Marvelous weekend. It was the Graduation Weekend for our seniors, but I skipped out on it. I don’t teach any of them, attending somebody else’s graduation festivities is a long drag, and the evening party they throw for the teachers is a bore. So Ryan and I cut out on Friday afternoon for Musoma, where we met PCVs Meena and Sarah for a good Indian meal (Chicken Tikka Masala), washed down with beer, at the AfroLux Hotel. Sarah and Meena had been out to Lukuba Island Lodge in the past, a resort on an island off Musoma that they said was fabulous and that they had wanted to share with us. And because Sarah knew Alicia before she left the Peace Corps, who had known the Manager, Mike, we got 2/3 off the going rate. Can’t pass up a deal like that!
It was everything that was promised. Beautiful modern-rustic cabins in a cove with a good beach, excellent scenery, and Mike is an environmentalist who knows and likes to share the whole history of the region and the changes that are going on in the lake because of the invasion of exotic fish and water hyacinth. He has catalogued some 84 species of birds on the island, and led us to the top of the island to watch the sunset. But the really big draw there is the food (and, for us, hot showers). Spaghetti with dried tomatoes. Tilapia fillets with fresh green beans. Good wines and name brand alcohol. Coffee. Fried eggs with thick bacon, fresh toast, sausage, fish, and beans.
The island is free (mostly) of the snails that are endemic along the shores of the lake and support the shistosomiasis parasite. So I went swimming for the first time in Africa, other than at the pool at the American Club in Dar, and it felt delicious. This morning it was cloudy and threatening, but I still wanted a good swim before breakfast – one that my muscles would remember tomorrow. So I started out toward these rocks offshore that Mike thinks are about 700m away. I got about ¾ of the way there when it started to rain. Swimming in the rain is kind of a kick, but it felt a little lonely out there and I decided that it would be prudent to turn back. Water taxis had gone by, closer to the shore than I was. On the way back I saw a couple of strong lightning bolts hit the water. They were off in the distance, but still I was glad to be getting out of there. And I had had enough exercise to be quite ready for their large and succulent breakfast.
It rained all morning, which justified sitting on the porch of the lodge, drinking coffee and reading. The rain stopped just before we had to leave in their open boat for the 45 minute ride back to the mainland. But the water was still choppy, and the boat took some impressive splashes on the way. We used umbrellas to ward off the spray, and Mike slowed the boat down so that the 45 minute ride took twice as long. But we stayed a bit drier, I’m sure. Sarah thought she would be seasick, but it was Ryan who fed the fishes.
On the mainland Mike gave us a ride to the bus station in the Land Rover and we caught the last bus back to Mwanza. So now I am back. Ready, more or less, to teach my classes tomorrow, having had this luxurious touch of rest and relaxation to break up the routine of Peace Corps existence here in Africa. What a tough life.
Friday, March 18, 2005
On Tuesday we gave the first session of the Economic Empowerment project to 30 students here. The class was extremely attentive and responsive to Mama Kasura and Mwalimu Magoti, who even used the flip charts and easel that I had purchased for them. They all talked in Kiswahili, so I really don’t know the details of their presentation except by reading my English version of the text they use. Our intent is to use the language they are most familiar with to encourage discussion and participation – this program is not intended to be an exercise in the use of English.
By chance, Thomas Msuka was visiting. He is the Asst. Peace Corps Dir. for Education, they guy I report to for teaching issues, and he is on a tour of all the Education sites. So he was able to sit in on the course. That was really fortuitous, because I am still trying in every way I can to push the Peace Corps toward Poverty Reduction and Economic Empowerment as the best way to help Tanzania out of its seemingly hopeless morass. He seemed quite impressed with the program, but pointed out again that the Peace Corps only responds to needs identified by the host country, and does not push an agenda. True, but I suspect that a host country can often be guided in what it chooses to request.
We are giving the program to only 30 students – my choice in setting it up, so that it would be a comfortable size for participation and discussion groups. But all 70 Form V students applied for the course, so 40 of them got left out.
I had assumed that basically the best students would get to participate. But Kasura and Magoti had other ideas. After choosing the few students who REALLY seemed to want the course or had already tried some kind of small business, they chose the BOTTOM of the class. It makes sense, actually. Having survived the system to Form V already indicates – well, perseverance for sure, and ability to succeed in the system. But these are the students who will not be able to go on to the University, and so are most likely to need the course for their survival.
But the selection process has led to great moaning and gnashing of teeth of those who expected to participate and have been left out. A neat hand-written letter (how else COULD it be written?) from Didas is typical:
“Hallow Mr Lee
It’s my hope that you are okey! I’m very gratefully glad to writte to you a letter ever since I started Form Five here at Nsumba, thank you very much for receiving my letter.
Thank you again and again for what you have introduced to us so that we may benefit from it, may the almighty God be with you! Also may I cry for help because what I wanted to do in my future, I have missed it!
To me, nothing is better than buisness activities. I expected to be selected in the training because I’m very much interested but I don’t know how to start, how much capital to start with?
I’m coming from the poorest family and very technological backward area, so I wanted to get such trainings so that I may be quite different from them and educate them too!
So I ask you kindly to include my name in your list so that I become a buisnessman or give me other alternatives so that I may rise up my life. If possible may I receive the answer from you! Of course I have become discouraged till you give to me advice to me!! My name is DIDAS (Form Five Student)”
It does feel bad to have to make arbitrary choices about who gets to take the course – it AIN’T fair. How could it be? I just have to keep remembering that giving skills to half the students is worlds better than doing nothing at all. And hopefully the program can expand if it really demonstrates usefulness in this first year here.
Maybe next term it would be possible to do something like offering a short program in how to find a job, American style, instead of trusting solely on God Willing. Maybe try to adapt the ideas in What Color Is My Parachute or something.
On Tuesday we gave the first session of the Economic Empowerment project to 30 students here. The class was extremely attentive and responsive to Mama Kasura and Mwalimu Magoti, who even used the flip charts and easel that I had purchased for them. They all talked in Kiswahili, so I really don’t know the details of their presentation except by reading my English version of the text they use. Our intent is to use the language they are most familiar with to encourage discussion and participation – this program is not intended to be an exercise in the use of English.
By chance, Thomas Msuka was visiting. He is the Asst. Peace Corps Dir. for Education, they guy I report to for teaching issues, and he is on a tour of all the Education sites. So he was able to sit in on the course. That was really fortuitous, because I am still trying in every way I can to push the Peace Corps toward Poverty Reduction and Economic Empowerment as the best way to help
We are giving the program to only 30 students – my choice in setting it up, so that it would be a comfortable size for participation and discussion groups. But all 70 Form V students applied for the course, so 40 of them got left out.
I had assumed that basically the best students would get to participate. But Kasura and Magoti had other ideas. After choosing the few students who REALLY seemed to want the course or had already tried some kind of small business, they chose the BOTTOM of the class. It makes sense, actually. Having survived the system to Form V already indicates – well, perseverance for sure, and ability to succeed in the system. But these are the students who will not be able to go on to the University, and so are most likely to need the course for their survival.
But the selection process has led to great moaning and gnashing of teeth of those who expected to participate and have been left out. A neat hand-written letter (how else COULD it be written?) from Didas is typical:
“Hallow Mr Lee
It’s my hope that you are okey! I’m very gratefully glad to writte to you a letter ever since I started Form Five here at Nsumba, thank you very much for receiving my letter.
Thank you again and again for what you have introduced to us so that we may benefit from it, may the almighty God be with you! Also may I cry for help because what I wanted to do in my future, I have missed it!
To me, nothing is better than buisness activities. I expected to be selected in the training because I’m very much interested but I don’t know how to start, how much capital to start with?
I’m coming from the poorest family and very technological backward area, so I wanted to get such trainings so that I may be quite different from them and educate them too!
So I ask you kindly to include my name in your list so that I become a buisnessman or give me other alternatives so that I may rise up my life. If possible may I receive the answer from you! Of course I have become discouraged till you give to me advice to me!! My name is DIDAS (Form Five Student)”
It does feel bad to have to make arbitrary choices about who gets to take the course – it AIN’T fair. How could it be? I just have to keep remembering that giving skills to half the students is worlds better than doing nothing at all. And hopefully the program can expand if it really demonstrates usefulness in this first year here.
Maybe next term it would be possible to do something like offering a short program in how to find a job, American style, instead of trusting solely on God Willing. Maybe try to adapt the ideas in What Color Is My Parachute or something.
On Tuesday we gave the first session of the Economic Empowerment project to 30 students here. The class was extremely attentive and responsive to Mama Kasura and Mwalimu Magoti, who even used the flip charts and easel that I had purchased for them. They all talked in Kiswahili, so I really don’t know the details of their presentation except by reading my English version of the text they use. Our intent is to use the language they are most familiar with to encourage discussion and participation – this program is not intended to be an exercise in the use of English.
By chance, Thomas Msuka was visiting. He is the Asst. Peace Corps Dir. for Education, they guy I report to for teaching issues, and he is on a tour of all the Education sites. So he was able to sit in on the course. That was really fortuitous, because I am still trying in every way I can to push the Peace Corps toward Poverty Reduction and Economic Empowerment as the best way to help
We are giving the program to only 30 students – my choice in setting it up, so that it would be a comfortable size for participation and discussion groups. But all 70 Form V students applied for the course, so 40 of them got left out.
I had assumed that basically the best students would get to participate. But Kasura and Magoti had other ideas. After choosing the few students who REALLY seemed to want the course or had already tried some kind of small business, they chose the BOTTOM of the class. It makes sense, actually. Having survived the system to Form V already indicates – well, perseverance for sure, and ability to succeed in the system. But these are the students who will not be able to go on to the University, and so are most likely to need the course for their survival.
But the selection process has led to great moaning and gnashing of teeth of those who expected to participate and have been left out. A neat hand-written letter (how else COULD it be written?) from Didas is typical:
“Hallow Mr Lee
It’s my hope that you are okey! I’m very gratefully glad to writte to you a letter ever since I started Form Five here at Nsumba, thank you very much for receiving my letter.
Thank you again and again for what you have introduced to us so that we may benefit from it, may the almighty God be with you! Also may I cry for help because what I wanted to do in my future, I have missed it!
To me, nothing is better than buisness activities. I expected to be selected in the training because I’m very much interested but I don’t know how to start, how much capital to start with?
I’m coming from the poorest family and very technological backward area, so I wanted to get such trainings so that I may be quite different from them and educate them too!
So I ask you kindly to include my name in your list so that I become a buisnessman or give me other alternatives so that I may rise up my life. If possible may I receive the answer from you! Of course I have become discouraged till you give to me advice to me!! My name is DIDAS (Form Five Student)”
It does feel bad to have to make arbitrary choices about who gets to take the course – it AIN’T fair. How could it be? I just have to keep remembering that giving skills to half the students is worlds better than doing nothing at all. And hopefully the program can expand if it really demonstrates usefulness in this first year here.
Maybe next term it would be possible to do something like offering a short program in how to find a job, American style, instead of trusting solely on God Willing. Maybe try to adapt the ideas in What Color Is My Parachute or something.
On Tuesday we gave the first session of the Economic Empowerment project to 30 students here. The class was extremely attentive and responsive to Mama Kasura and Mwalimu Magoti, who even used the flip charts and easel that I had purchased for them. They all talked in Kiswahili, so I really don’t know the details of their presentation except by reading my English version of the text they use. Our intent is to use the language they are most familiar with to encourage discussion and participation – this program is not intended to be an exercise in the use of English.
By chance, Thomas Msuka was visiting. He is the Asst. Peace Corps Dir. for Education, they guy I report to for teaching issues, and he is on a tour of all the Education sites. So he was able to sit in on the course. That was really fortuitous, because I am still trying in every way I can to push the Peace Corps toward Poverty Reduction and Economic Empowerment as the best way to help Tanzania out of its seemingly hopeless morass. He seemed quite impressed with the program, but pointed out again that the Peace Corps only responds to needs identified by the host country, and does not push an agenda. True, but I suspect that a host country can often be guided in what it chooses to request.
We are giving the program to only 30 students – my choice in setting it up, so that it would be a comfortable size for participation and discussion groups. But all 70 Form V students applied for the course, so 40 of them got left out.
I had assumed that basically the best students would get to participate. But Kasura and Magoti had other ideas. After choosing the few students who REALLY seemed to want the course or had already tried some kind of small business, they chose the BOTTOM of the class. It makes sense, actually. Having survived the system to Form V already indicates – well, perseverance for sure, and ability to succeed in the system. But these are the students who will not be able to go on to the University, and so are most likely to need the course for their survival.
But the selection process has led to great moaning and gnashing of teeth of those who expected to participate and have been left out. A neat hand-written letter (how else COULD it be written?) from Didas is typical:
“Hallow Mr Lee
It’s my hope that you are okey! I’m very gratefully glad to writte to you a letter ever since I started Form Five here at Nsumba, thank you very much for receiving my letter.
Thank you again and again for what you have introduced to us so that we may benefit from it, may the almighty God be with you! Also may I cry for help because what I wanted to do in my future, I have missed it!
To me, nothing is better than buisness activities. I expected to be selected in the training because I’m very much interested but I don’t know how to start, how much capital to start with?
I’m coming from the poorest family and very technological backward area, so I wanted to get such trainings so that I may be quite different from them and educate them too!
So I ask you kindly to include my name in your list so that I become a buisnessman or give me other alternatives so that I may rise up my life. If possible may I receive the answer from you! Of course I have become discouraged till you give to me advice to me!! My name is DIDAS (Form Five Student)”
It does feel bad to have to make arbitrary choices about who gets to take the course – it AIN’T fair. How could it be? I just have to keep remembering that giving skills to half the students is worlds better than doing nothing at all. And hopefully the program can expand if it really demonstrates usefulness in this first year here.
Maybe next term it would be possible to do something like offering a short program in how to find a job, American style, instead of trusting solely on God Willing. Maybe try to adapt the ideas in What Color Is My Parachute or something.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Yesterday was money day. I bought supplies for the Economic Empowerment course – decent pens and spiral notebooks for all students and instructors. Flip charts, markers and tape for all the instructors, and – extravagance – flip chart stands at $130 each. All this stuff is really nice but superfluous. It wasn’t in the original budget, but we sent fewer people for training than I anticipated, and more of the training costs were picked up by TechnoSeve than I expected. I want both the instructors and the students to feel that they are participating in something special, so thought this is an OK use of the project funds. The total came to $620 – a lot of money here in Africa.
I also want to give the instructors a little more money than I told them they would get - $1.25 per session instead of $1.00 per session.
I also took out the $1,500 that the Peace Corps had provided in advance of the grant money, and sent it back to HQ by EMS. That was expensive – their fee was $47.50, and the bank charged another $10 to take more than $1000 out of a savings account. But it is only money....
My own finances have been running close to the ragged edge since I got back from London in December. Without a working debit card, I can’t call on my own bank account in the US as a safety net. So I hung around town until early evening, when I could call my bank (eight hours time difference) to arrange an electronic transfer to my account here. Took out $700 which is probably ‘way too much and stupid because I will get hurt on the exchange rate, but there it is.
Otherwise – teaching is going fairly smoothly these days, since the non-students dropped chemistry. I am spending one day a week on classroom work, and one day a week in the laboratory, doing volumetric titrations. The idea was for each student to do their own titrations, but we don’t have enough equipment and while my department chairman is being very helpful – unlike last year – he makes up the solutions and never makes enough. So many of the students still end up watching their friends do the work. They will get killed in the National Exam, when they have to do it themselves. So it goes.
The classroom work is dull. They call it “theory,” but it is just writing reactions on the board for them to copy and supposedly memorize. On the whole they like it – it is what they are used to. After one of my classes this week, the students practically cheered, because they thought I had taught so well and given them so much information. Then I went into the very next class and did the same thing, and ran into a buzz saw. “Mr. Lee, don’t write that stuff on the board, we can get that from other notebooks, just come in and talk about the chemistry.” Much as I would LOVE to do that, they do NOT have the books or resources, and so I will continue to teach like a Tanzanian.
////
So now Tony Blair’s African Commission has released its conclusions and recommendations on how Africa can halve its poverty rate by 2015. I gather that it calls for reducing official corruption (GREAT goal and ESSENTIAL, but HOW?), writing off national indebtedness (excellent), eliminating trade and agricultural subsidies that work against 3rd world countries (ESSENTIAL), making free education available to all (excellent), encouraging entrepreneurs (my PET issue) and doubling the international aid destined for Africa. Of course, it is the request for a massive increase in aid that is getting the headlines. And it is a HORRID idea - I can just imagine all the government leaders and aid recipients already in the Mercedes showrooms, drooling all over themselves. The donors will finally get frustrated at the waste and stop the money flow, and meanwhile corruption will just be that much more deeply entrenched.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
It is afternoon, and it is a strange day with a strange feel. It seems that changes are in the air. I did not go to town this morning, to the Sikh temple as I have done routinely for some time now unless I was out of town. The day is cloudy, cool, after a week of intense muggy heat without breeze that made it hard to go to sleep at night. There is a second, shorter rainy season that begins in March, usually, and we must be on the cusp of it.
It is unusually quiet. Few people are walking along the road on the other side of the football pitch – nobody is using or walking across the pitch. The dog, Hodie, is asleep on her foam pad. For a change I am ahead of my class in preparing lessons and so do not feel the pressure of guilt to write notes in preparation of classes tomorrow.
It seems too early, but there is a change in how my friends and I perceive ourselves. The realization that we are in our final year sits heavily upon us, the knowledge that we have now been here for almost 2/3 of our allotted 27 months. The curtains, or the fan, or the rug that we have always intended to buy for our homes but never did now seem superfluous since we will only be leaving them behind. Ryan and I were in agreement the other day that we are not exploring the region on our bicycles any longer. We have already canvassed the nearby regions, and we have to ride quite far to find ourselves in new territory. Any by now, our expectation is that the new territory would look much like the old territory anyway.
And for me, my difficulties with my classes feel like a watershed of some sort. I am teaching again and things are back on a fairly even keel now. The classes are not fighting me any longer and, really, have been quite attentive. That is a result of having given the students who really wanted out an opportunity to drop chemistry – this year, for the first time, chemistry is no longer a required course for Form IV students. None dropped out of Class E, but I lost about six students from Classes A and B, and Classes D and E were decimated by dropouts. One result is that we have combined C and D, so I now teach only 16 periods a week. This is a remarkably light teaching schedule. I will not object and I feel only mildly guilty.
But, in my last classes I checked all my student notebooks, and 15 students had not copied the important chart I gave them in the prior class. In my view, this is unforgiveable – even if they were not in class for legitimate reasons, they’d had two days to get the notes from somebody else. And if they get away with not taking notes in class, then they feel they can ignore anything I require them to do. I came THIS close to giving their names to the Academic Master for whipping. Then I decided that instead, I could have the Master make them do pushups in the dirt. We did that the next morning, although only 3 of the 15 students were at the Morning Parade. The rest must be day students, latecomers. I will take time from my next round of classes to direct the pushups, if they still have not brought their notes up to date. Grrrrrr!
Hopefully I will use my reduced schedule to make myself more available to my students. Yesterday I walked through the campus, and talked to a group of students for about an hour. We talked about national structures, and I developed my pet theory that Tanzanians need to take responsibility for themselves, and need to start small businesses. Most of the group drifted away, but several stayed and said that I had given them something to think about that was new to them. One was a Form V student, looking forward to the program on starting small businesses that should start in April.
A reduced schedule should also give me more time to devote to the small business course. My nine instructors were in southern Tanzania for a week’s training in how to present the small business course. From the reports I hear, it was an exciting program. They are on the way home now. But Scandanavia Bus has cancelled its service from Arusha-Moshe to Mwanza, so they had to scramble to find a alternative bus. Much as I wish I had been with them, it is probably good that they were on their own – if this program is to continue next year, they need to feel competent to handle it without me. But I think I can be instrumental into building local business support and financial assistance for it.
When last encountered, I had given Samwel $300, based on the good will and gift of Glenn and Allegra: $100 as a gift and $200 as a loan. This was to pay his fees to attend Elkenford Teacher’s College and become a primary school teacher after a year’s study. At the time, I thought he was going to begin his studies in January. However, through some miscommunication it appears that he intended to start in the second term, beginning in July.
But meanwhile, Elkenford has increased its annual fees to $600 for day students or $840 for boarding students. This is an exorbitant fee, a sure deal breaker. Still, before consigning Samwel to life as a school night watchman forever, several of us sat with him to consider other possibilities. There is Butimba Teacher’s College nearby. It is a government school that he would normally not be eligible to attend, but we thought maybe they could accept him as a special student paying private fees. He had sought to explore this approach himself, but was unable to even get an appointment for an interview there.
Let’s face it, white skin helps. I rode my bicycle to Butimba last week, and had no trouble arranging an immediate discussion directly with the very gracious Headmistress, Mama Kabaka. She was sympathetic upon hearing the story and seeing the picture of Samwel with his wife and family. There were several problems however, the first being the question of whether his grades warranted his further study. I had to go back to ascertain his grades, but fortunately they were adequate.
The second problem was more fundamental. The government had established this accelerated route to accreditation in order to overcome a shortage of primary school teachers. It seems they overshot the mark. Butimba currently has 92 students in
the program, and is under very recent orders from the government to reduce this number to 57 by graduation time. The government has applied similar limits to the private schools (which is undoubtedly why Elkenford has increased its fees so drastically). As Headmistress Kabaka says, “How can Butimba suddenly reduce the number of its students by almost a half? We will have to give impossibly hard tests so that half the students will fail. In this environment, it is not possible to accept Samwel on any basis. But we are certainly willing to consider him for next year.”
This is not the first time that I have concluded that education in Tanzania is just a crap shoot. But it does appear that we have secured the inside track for Samwel to attend Butimba next year. It should cost about $100-120 to attend Butimba as a boarding student, thus saving Samwel the cost of off-campus living and also keeping him close to his family at a fraction of the cost of Elkenford. So hopefully there will be these compensations for his having to wait yet another year before continuing his education.
