Here we are in the lead up to the long rains when the temperature seems to mount a little each day, and I find myself getting more and more lethargic and unambitious. I have taken to carrying a handkerchief to mop my brow, and teaching for a hour makes me want a two hour nap! Luckily Oyster Bay Secondary school has found a new Form One English teacher, and I am down to taking the English Club one day a week, along with a bouncy Aussie teacher named Ruth. We play games, sing songs (10 green bottles was a big hit) and try to get the kids talking - still not easy with 60 - 70 kids in the group.
I have had a chance to observe and talk to teachers, and I find myself a bit discouraged at the magnitude of what lies ahead. I don't know why this surprises me, since Tanzania is still very much a developing country, and although everyone extolls the importance of education, there are structural reasons that things will not change as quickly as people would like. There is a huge push to provide secondary places for the increase in the number of primary school leavers (in a relatively short time, Tanzania increased its primary school enrolment from about 70% to 95% - a big success). This explains why Oyster Bay has a brand new classroom block of 4 classrooms, with 3 more on the way (including a science lab and a library) - all built over the December break. This is happening all over the country, although there are still many schools on shifts as Oyster Bay was last year.
There are still minimal resources, and it seems that teachers prefer the old methodology of lecturing, writing notes on the blackboard, and having the students copy them. There is lip service paid to "new" ideas of more participatory methods of teaching, but the reality of huge classes and lack of training and resources is discouraging.
The most rewarding part of teaching here, of course, is the students, who are excited about anything that is a break from the usual. They are even excited about a new textbook!
But, the one of the biggest challenges facing the education system here is the low status teachers have, and the consequent lack of committed, serious teachers. Richard, above, who is now the head of the English department is a bright, ambitious young man with lots of potential. However, as someone from a poor background, one of the only ways for him to get to university is to teach for 2 years and then be eligible to apply for a scholarship. So he will be gone soon, and indeed who can blame him - at a starting salary of $150 a month (not much more than we pay our part-time housekeeper), he can't imagine ever being able to build a house, get married or do anything but scrape by. All the other English teachers are part-time, university students who are very anxious that everyone know they are not "just" teachers. Teachers are often absent, often doing other paid work (like marking exams, tutoring etc) to supplement their incomes. When they are absent, no one replaces them, although sometimes a conscientious teacher will ask a student with good handwriting to copy the teacher notes on the blackboard so the students can then copy them.
Another big challenge that I see (and this is not seen as a problem by most people I talk to here) is the emphasis on exams - an inordinate amount of time and energy goes into writing, administering, marking, returning, agonizing over the results of exams, and from what I have seen of them, the constant revising, cramming and rote memorization that goes on to get students ready is actually not contributing towards producing analytical, critical thinking creative citizens.
Language of instruction is another area subject to a lot of debate here. Now, primary school is completely in Swahili, with English taught as a second language (or not, depending on the resources of the school). Secondary school is supposed to be completely taught in English,with all exams etc in English. In practice, although all the notes copied from the blackboard are in English, most of the lecturing I hear is in Swahili, and the level of some of the teacher's English is minimal to say the least. So, the debate rages - isn't it better for students to learn in their own language, so that they can learn all those creative, critical thinking skills left out when they are hampered by learning through a foreign language? Tanzanians are very proud of their beautiful Swahili, and of the unifying effect it has had on the country.
The reality however (as seen from my vantage point) is that while the debate goes on, they are stuck with a system which is possibly the worst of all worlds - bad second language teaching by unqualified, unmotivated teachers. The language debate is further complicated by the existence of myriad private, "English medium" primary schools, which give some students who arrive in the government secondary schools a huge leg up over those who have had little exposure to English. I estimated that roughly one third of the Form 1 students had little or no English when they started this year, and one third were quite competent (they could read an age appropriate text and answer comprehension questions). I can see this gap widening still further as the years go on as those with English will understand the content presented, and those with none will slip behind.
Tanzania seems to be turning into a more and more unequal society each day - and it is compounded by the education system. A huge factor is the number of very good, private secondary schools both day and boarding to which the elite send their children. These schools siphon off all the "good" teachers as they are paid more. Every middle class person I have talked to sends their children to private school, and I have heard more than once that many of the elite send their children abroad (indeed we have met many of the products of this system). Where is the incentive to improve the public system going to come from if the politicians have this way out?
In spite of all my gloomy projections, I see lots of hope – hope that some of the products of these “good” private schools will graduate, become movers and shakers and put something back into their country. I also know that Tanzania has its share of bright, motivated children who will learn in spite of the barriers they face and will grow up to shake things up as well. There is so much talk about education at all levels of society, and it is reflected in the mottos and names of schools you see around the country. When I talk to Rose, our housekeeper, she tells me about all the effort her family puts into educating their children, and how they all pitch in to find school fees. Her sincerest desire (apart from getting married) is to go back to school, and she says the President himself is urging all Tanzanians to finish secondary school.
Here is a small country school we dropped in on one day, to drop off some school supplies donated by friends and family at home. It was neat, orderly and the teachers seemed very enthusiastic. Their English wasn’t very good, however, so it was difficult to communicate. But since we hear so much in the city that rural schools are so deprived, it was good to see one which seemed so well run!
Finally, what have I accomplished in this few months here? Well, I hope that if I have done nothing else, I have at least helped some hundreds of Tanzanian school children to pronounce the letter “r”!
Now, repeat after me, "In rural areas, it rains red raspberries"
Stayed tuned for more teaching adventures: this time at the Dogodogo Centre for Street Children.
