Teaching in the Boondocks of Kenya

My volunteer assignment for ACCES was to help staff develop a teacher evaluation tool for use in the ACCES Community Schools.  To do this with some degree of integrity, I wanted to get a good grasp of the teaching context in the schools and talk a lot to the teachers.  I have loved every minute of my time with them – chatting informally in the small staff rooms, observing classes, interviewing some of them, finding out about the students they teach, hearing their stories, learning about their challenges, frustrations and dreams. 

Let me introduce you to a few of them.  First there is Stanley who teaches at Elufafwa, some 9 km. from Kakamega.  His classroom is in a well-constructed school built by CIDA.  From a humble background, he was a mechanic at 14, then sponsored through secondary school.  An ACCES scholarship helped him obtain his two year’s teacher certificate. 

His is one of the first classes I observed, and remains a highlight.  In his Level 2/3 math class, he brought 4 learners to the front to physically demonstrate “4 take away 1= 3.”  These youngsters are just learning to count in English so this is a double challenge for them.  He demonstrated a number of times with different learners and different numbers.  During practice time, he asked me to join him in circulating the room, marking answers and assisting one-on-one.  It was a terrific class.

Another time at Elufafwa, Philip’s Level 5 learners were conducting an experiment in groups to learn soil properties.  They had brought soil samples from home, and he was asking them to observe what happens when they put soil in a glass of water.   Philip loves science, especially zoology, and hopes to get his degree.  Next class the learners were going to burn small soil samples to learn about humus.

Last week at Munasio, a mud hut school 8 km. from town, a new teacher, Roseline, was teaching Swahili Level 2/3 vocabulary for shapes such as ovals. Every learner was engaged, on his or her feet physically making the shapes with their arms and bodies while saying the words.  In one of the rare classrooms with wall charts, she asked learners to point out the various sounds in the words.  I tried to take a good photo of her but she was in constant motion. 

When I dropped in to observe his Social Studies Level 4 class in a mud hut classroom in Shivagala, 21 km from town, Justus (I may have the name wrong) was getting the learners to role play a visit to a medicine man to help bring a lesson on traditional medicine to life.  Next door at the same school, Adelaide had the little ones in her split 2/3 class jumping out of their seats to identify words and pictures for “foods we eat” and “things that give us light.”

 

Just a mention of Benedict and Benson, teachers both and also Center Managers, each with great presence, charisma and dynamism.  They make their centers hum, inspiring good teaching through example.   

Another teacher who caught my attention for the clarity of her presentation on a tough point of English usage in a Level 8 class, Meliza is another ACCES sponsored university student who wanted to be a lawyer.  Teacher’s training was more accessible.    She ensured her class got lots of practice, reteaching and individual attention.   

I wish I could tell you this was the picture in every classroom.  I would say less than half the classes I observed used practices we in Surrey champion:  active, student-centered learning.  Other teachers relied on the textbook, students reading from the blackboard in a chanting manner, asking “recall” questions, and students taking notes and/or doing structured practice.  Our roommate tells me this is traditional Kenyan teaching.   

Teaching in ACCES schools is a hard gig.  The schools are isolated by the poor road system more than distance.  The schools have no power and some have no water source.  The teachers are on 3 month contracts and are paid one third per month of what they would make if hired by a public school.  What many of our teachers like about ACCES jobs is the punctual pay cheque and the smaller class size.  Those with P1 certificates, a two year course of studies, are waiting for their college graduating year to be “called” to get into the public system. Since about 2005, the huge growth in student population has stressed the public system which doesn’t have the capacity to hire. Although classes in the public schools can be large – we saw Level 4 classes at Kakamega Primary of 68 and 72 – the salary and benefits are good, there is tenure, and they join a larger community of teachers.

What are the teachers’ issues?  They talk about corruption in high places, about their personal challenge of dealing with rising inflation, the high cost of educating their own children and of attending university, the desire to educate their own children well, about “seeing is believing” – that as Kenyans they have been promised much for too long and no longer trust officialdom.  Some of them walk to school – far, on muddy roads, like 5 km. each way.  The women have to deal with child care.  There is concern about the implementation of the new constitution and a next year’s election, if it will change everyday life or if will again lead to violence.  

I have also learned that many of our teachers come from humble backgrounds, that getting to university entrance is very big deal in their lives, and that obtaining two years training is a possible platform for greater things ahead.  BC teachers will remember the days when one could teach elementary school after a short stint at normal school.  Kenya is a developing country with a developing school system.

What ACCES teaching does is provide experience, regular in-service and opportunity.  For all the young bright lights I described above, ACCES is once again “developing capacity.”  These teachers are smart and talented.  The future and the hope of Kenya, they are inspirational.

The Church on a Farm

A few weeks ago in Canada, when we agreed to drive one weekend to Kisii to meet Rev. Justine Magara, it was because we felt compelled to make the effort to meet fellow Unitarians in Kenya, knowing we were in for a “once in a lifetime” experience.   It was that – and more. 

  

Initially, we assumed that we were driving 3 to 4 hours southwest of Kakamega to Kisii, a large agricultural town, where we would stay in a local hotel, attend a church service on the Sunday, maybe take in some of the local soapstone scupturing, and drive back to Kakamega by the late afternoon.  Michael took over the arrangements last week, and as he spoke to Justine by phone, the weekend evolved in a new direction.  

Justine would meet us in Kisii, drive with us 45 to 60 minutes north to the village of Manga where we would meet his congregation, enjoy a meal together, participate in a worship service, walk the Ongori Farm, return for dinner – and spend the night there.  I asked Michael to remind Justine we were westerners, and he assured Michael we would be comfortable.  The next morning we would drive one hour to Ogembo, another village, for a Sunday service, lunch, and a visit to a soapstone factory.  

Well, we left Kakamega at 10 am on Saturday, picked Justine up in Nyansiongo, a village beyond Kisii, and drove on a dirt road at least 30 minutes to Manga and the Ongori farm.  My alarm bells went off.  Oh, oh, in over my head.  Bucolic.  And rural.  Rural.  I am a born and bred city girl.  By the way, the countryside in this part of Kenya is gorgeous.  It has hills and valleys, is lushness beyond Kakamega’s, and is intensely cultivated and inhabited.

Justine explained that his congregation had begun with the family members at Ongori farm, and then extended into the community, his home town, to about 50 members.  He also serves a second congregation in Ogembo, but because of  a last minute change of plans, we stayed in Manga at the farm.   When we were shown to our room, my heart sank.  The bed was exceedingly narrow, there was no sink or basin, no towels – but, yes, there was a squat toilet opposite so I didn’t have to use the outhouse.  Whew.

 

We met Julius and his mother, the next door neighbours.  Julius works in a factory in Nairobi, helping educate two younger siblings, keep his mother, and assist Justine with Unitarian organization.  Peter and Samson run the Ongori farm while their mother and two brothers are currently in the US.  Justine lives with them when not in Nairobi with his wife and children, coordinating Unitarian work in Kenya.  We met other neighbours who have joined Justine’s congregation.

What binds them?  I would say Justine’s passion and vision.  He loves to minister and is inspiring his Unitarian following to work cooperatively to develop a sustainable lifestyle.  He wants youth to be able to stay in the countryside to make a living and live a quality life.

After a late lunch, we walked the beautiful Ongori farm with Justine, Julius, Peter , Samson and one of their friends, appreciating the remarkable fauna and the endeavours to make the farm more lucrative:  a brick making operation, two eucalyptus plots, a market garden, a dairy herd, a fish farm.  Another goal is to build a church on the farm from the bricks. We later found the Ongori farm is famous  in the region, one of the few undivided homesteads purchased after independence.  

 

We enjoyed an evening of showing images of Vancouver and BC on our computer to a receptive and curious audience, another tasty meal from farm products, and a lively conversation about world affairs.    I helped make ugali in the farm kitchen over a wood fire.

 

I did sleep.  I managed without a shower or water, though the guys brought me a basin of heated water in the morning.  I learned how to make Kenyan tea in the farm kitchen but missed out on making chapatis over the open fire which, by the way, is acrid and takes getting used to.  

 

The worship service at around 11 (remember, being on time is not a Kenyan value)that included the Ongori family and friends was simple and lovely.  Michael and I gave the congregation a gift of two Unitarian songbooks, sang “One More Step” for them to join in, and then Michael, as a tribute to Kenya and this congregation, sang “We’ll Build a Land.”  They loved the hymn books and we loved their readings and the minister’s prayer of welcome and gratitude.

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 Many group photos were taken, and then Samson, who had discovered I love African dancing, joined with Julius to lead a song and dance for us

 As we prepared to drive away, I was surprised and touched  beyond words to receive tight hugs from my new young Kenyan friends, Samson, Peter and Julius.  I know I will never forget them.  I know I will help find a way to keep in touch with and support Justine.  I know that in stretching myself, I learned a little more about living in grace.

 

And on the way “home,” we took a too long detour on poor roads to see the soapstone factories and this wonderful scupture called “Defeating Literacy,”  evocative of our volunteer work in Kenya.    

   

“Developing Capacity”

Before I undertook my volunteer assignment with ACCES, I thought I had a good understanding of the term “developing capacity.”  It’s a very important concept to ACCES Kenya, appearing as a key objective in both the CIDA application and the ACCES strategic plan. 

However,  in my time “on the ground,” I am acquiring a real appreciation and much deeper understanding of what it means and my role in it.  I venture to say that it is the most important work I’m doing here. 

It includes role modelling, inspiration, encouragement, ideas, coaching, explanation, suggestions  - and sometimes considerable perspiration and frustration.  The working scene in Kenya is different.  Time is understood differently,  organization and planning here are what I might call “organic,” and management is decidedly hierarchical versus collegial. 

 On Monday the 17th, for example, the entire office team with us two volunteers went to one of the community schools to kick off a “Dejiggering Campaign.”  Our Health and Gender Coordinator has spent the past weeks successfully establishing a partnership with public health officials. First, we arrived late because the taxi arrived late.  The ceremony wasn’t organized as I understand “organized,”  nor were the students, teachers and parents from the school invited to participate.  

In the end, there was a nice ceremony to a small audience that included short speeches from a much surprised Michael and Elaine, a demonstration of the new procedure for treating jiggers (soaking in dettol for 10 days versus the painful  manual extraction I witnessed 2 weeks ago), a method found for disposal of the soaking solution, and a plan made to include the school community in next Wednesday’s campaign conclusion.   Some of this was done by asking questions and offering help.  I think there’s lot of fodder here for a capacity building debrief, if there is the interest ot have one.

Which there likely is.  I have found the staff and the teachers willing and open to learning.  They are bright, capable, caring and committed.  That is why it is such a joy to be here with them.

Today my Kenyan partner and I  were at one of the ACCES Community Schools field testing a new evaluation tool.  The idea of a field test, of asking for input from the center managers instead of imposing it, is all quite new.  But my partner “on the ground,” while struggling with this collaboration, every day tells me how much he is learning and how pleased he is with the progress of our project.  

 More French beans were planted during our school visit this Wednesday.  One of the concepts behind this farming initiative is to “develop capacity” in the local school community – the parents and the learners.  If they can acquire a new cash crop, it will perhaps inspire them to keep learning new farming methods and make much needed income.  The rich, fertile lands of Kenya are, an economist last weekend postulated,  its most valuable physical resource.

 

And I, of course, have been developing a lot of capacity myself – to be less interested in time and more interested in process.

  

A Piece of Paradise

Michael and I spent the weekend of October 14 – 16 within the Kakamega Forest Preserve at Rondo Retreat, an  “our pick” by the Lonely Planet staff.  Little wonder why.  I thought I was in heaven.  

Now under the direction of the Trinity Fellowship (I know only that it is US based and a Christian charity), this 1948 homestead of a British logger has become a blissful retreat.  There is the original house, beautifully restored and decorated, a number of guest cottages, a chapel, and a splendid botanical garden developed by the first wife of the original owner. 

 As well as having a comfortable room with an ensuite bathroom with hot shower and shelves (wow!)  for our stuff, we enjoyed delicious meals in a lovely dining hall, the exotic scent of gardenias (my mother’s favourite) as we walked the path to and from our room, and afternoon tea on the verandah of our cottage. 

 

 

The vistas of the garden from our room were simply lovely.  I was ready to move in after 4 weeks of power failures, cooking on a propane stovetop, rustic hand laundry, and awkward bathrooms.  I was relaxed for the first time in 4 weeks.  Once again, my western self was bumping up against West African realities of life.

We met interesting people.  A retired US cardiologist and his wife are living for two years in Eldoret where he works at a local medical centre under trying circumstances training Kenyan doctors.  Recently, a decison was made to add more capacity to the morgue while he struggles with no sutures, aspirin or ventilators.  Different values about life and health are at play.  We met Rebecca from Australia  who is working for an American NGO studying poverty eradication.  We met a couple of keen birders from the UK on vacation.  We met some charismatic Christians from the UK who fund an orphanage in Kakamega for street children.  This well meaning expat community is part of the fabric of society in Kenya, and it was fascinating to share stories and experiences with them, to help us understand what WE are doing here.  Were there Kenyans?  Yes, including the very hip fiancee with her Australian partner who shared our cottage verandah with us.  

However, the very best part of the weekend were our two nature hikes with our guide, Wycliffe, a Kakamega Forest Guide and Community Environmental Teacher.  In his gentle way, he introduced us to the flora and fauna of this newest and highest part of the African rainforest that stretches across the continent from its birth in Guinea through the Congo and Uganda to the highlands of Kenya.  The remaining 23,000 hectares of the original 240,000 hectares of Kenyan rain forest are gorgeous.   

  The bird and animal sounds that dominate one’s  senses in the morning hours give way to quiet in the heat of the afternoon.  We were enchanted by colourful butterflies looking for sunshine to dry their wings, monkeys swinging from treetop to treetop to escape our detection, black and white hornbills caw cawing and soaring between trees, tiny orchid-like flowers to large, white pincushion flowers on top of the volcanic Lirhanda hilltop. When we saw the enormous twisted rainforest vines, we told a disbelieving Wycliffe about the fictional Tarzan.  

 

But  the most awesome experience for me, a lover of mighty rivers, was reaching the fast flowing rapids of the Yala River.  This river flows into Lake Victoria, and becomes part of the one river that flows out of Lake Victoria above Victoria Falls to become the White Nile.  We saw the red Kenyan silt in the river that historically became part of the rich Nile delta lands,  rich silt that now accumulates behind the high Aswan dam.  I bathed my hands in waters that will flow into the Mediterranean Ocean, part of the refreshing waters we swam in off the south coast of Crete. To be in touch with nature at this elemental level was - sublime.