Thursday, September 22, 2005
This school feels like a time bomb. The atmosphere is surly. The scar of the riot has not healed and nobody is putting any balm on it. The traditional graduation ceremony for Form-IV students has been cancelled.
There isn’t much teaching going on. None for the Form-IVs (11th graders) that I teach. As is the tradition, the Form-IVs have been excused from manual tasks and required activities so they can concentrate on preparing themselves for the National Exam that is a week and a half away. And as is the tradition, the Form-IVs don’t want teachers around because they think they can study better by themselves.
The other teachers are not going to Form-IV classes at all. Yesterday, my first full day back from Morogoro, I went to all the classes I teach, briefly, to tell them that I would be in the laboratory where, if they wanted, we could go over old exam questions or I would be available to answer any chemistry questions they might have or help with any topic they were not sure of.
Nobody came.
The Headmaster stuck his head in while I was reading a weird fiction article from a New Yorker magazine there. He advised me not to bother even trying to teach my classes, that it is of no use. So why am I here?
Yesterday I went early to the Morning Parade – unusual for me – to hear the announcements and find out what is going on around the school. As usual, a student took the stage to give a brief talk in English. The Discipline Master stopped him and said he wasn’t fit to be in front of the students. He finally figured out what was wrong: His shirt wasn’t tucked in properly. He tried to tuck it in, to much student laughter, but wasn’t having much success. He melted off the stage without giving his talk. The poor guy. The Parade ended in 15 minutes, the shortest Parade in history. The Headmaster arrived two minutes later and seemed to have things he wanted to say but it was too late for him.
The school is plastered with SPEAK ENGLISH ONLY signs. Several of them are ripped.
Today’s Morning Parade was a long harangue about not studying hard enough and too much noise during the evening study periods. Then a diatribe about not speaking English – it appears that especially the Form-IVs want nothing to do with English. Students who hadn’t swept their area of the grounds sufficiently were identified for punishment but most of them were not at the Parade at all, a major offense in itself. Finally the Headmaster took the stage and gave a long talk about the student who had been caught in the nearby village during school hours. A chair was brought for him to bend over and the Discipline Master whipped him (five hard strokes) in front of the assembly.
Attention. Left turn. Right turn. About face. At ease. Go to your classes.
There isn’t much teaching going on. None for the Form-IVs (11th graders) that I teach. As is the tradition, the Form-IVs have been excused from manual tasks and required activities so they can concentrate on preparing themselves for the National Exam that is a week and a half away. And as is the tradition, the Form-IVs don’t want teachers around because they think they can study better by themselves.
The other teachers are not going to Form-IV classes at all. Yesterday, my first full day back from Morogoro, I went to all the classes I teach, briefly, to tell them that I would be in the laboratory where, if they wanted, we could go over old exam questions or I would be available to answer any chemistry questions they might have or help with any topic they were not sure of.
Nobody came.
The Headmaster stuck his head in while I was reading a weird fiction article from a New Yorker magazine there. He advised me not to bother even trying to teach my classes, that it is of no use. So why am I here?
Yesterday I went early to the Morning Parade – unusual for me – to hear the announcements and find out what is going on around the school. As usual, a student took the stage to give a brief talk in English. The Discipline Master stopped him and said he wasn’t fit to be in front of the students. He finally figured out what was wrong: His shirt wasn’t tucked in properly. He tried to tuck it in, to much student laughter, but wasn’t having much success. He melted off the stage without giving his talk. The poor guy. The Parade ended in 15 minutes, the shortest Parade in history. The Headmaster arrived two minutes later and seemed to have things he wanted to say but it was too late for him.
The school is plastered with SPEAK ENGLISH ONLY signs. Several of them are ripped.
Today’s Morning Parade was a long harangue about not studying hard enough and too much noise during the evening study periods. Then a diatribe about not speaking English – it appears that especially the Form-IVs want nothing to do with English. Students who hadn’t swept their area of the grounds sufficiently were identified for punishment but most of them were not at the Parade at all, a major offense in itself. Finally the Headmaster took the stage and gave a long talk about the student who had been caught in the nearby village during school hours. A chair was brought for him to bend over and the Discipline Master whipped him (five hard strokes) in front of the assembly.
Attention. Left turn. Right turn. About face. At ease. Go to your classes.
