Back to School the Kenyan Way

Two weeks ago I had the rare privilege of seeing my 9 year old nephew back to school. He was moving on to class four and mighty excited about it. Well, me, not so much. Among the list of items he had to bring was a dictionary, an atlas, a Good News Bible, Kamusi (Swahili dictionary), a ruler and a geometrical set.

Now the list is not so much the issue as is the fact that my boy had just graduated from class three and barely learnt to take care of his pencils. To be honest we’ve had to get him a new pencil, rubber, and sharpener every other day ever since I can remember. He has a way of misplacing even his items of clothing, putting jitters in us all night as we wonder whether the new track suit we just purchased will be found safe and sound somewhere in school the following morning.

So you can understand my apprehension when this same little ‘not-so-careful’ boy has to daily be entrusted with textbooks whose value runs into thousands of Kenya shillings. Lots of questions run through my mind like, why does a class four child NEED all these books? I sure don’t remember owning an atlas or a dictionary till I was in class six. And I’m pretty sure I turned out alright. No wonder the never ending hue and cry about revising the Kenyan education system.

That however is the tip of the iceberg. By some stroke of fate he needed to change schools. Fate did I say? Hmmm, let's review that. His school had made it clear it was phasing out the primary school over an eight year period or sooner if need be. The sooner turned it to be a manic suddenly that left all parents and guardians baffled. A week into his first term of the year, I dropped him to school in the morning but, when I went to pick him up in the evening I was casually informed that the school had CLOSED and he was not to report the following morning - figure that! I had a mind to sue but couldn't muster the strength for the long, probably futile, court battle, but I digress....

His new school seemed even more determined to make a tiny scholar out of him. On his second day back from school my little nephew groaned his way up the stairs to our flat, his school bag weighing him down, threatening to roll him back down the stairs. His new school had blessed him with all of eight or so textbooks (did I mention he is in class four?), not counting the ones we had bought earlier. Besides, I was informed, we needed to buy him SIXTEEN exercise books – that’s right, sixteen!

‘How are you expected to carry all that?’ I asked my little boy and he gave me a little smile in desperation. I felt his pain. Each morning after that as I watched him drag his bag to the school bus I would ask him, ‘Are you sure you need all those books today?’ I’ve asked him to get me the school timetable so I can decide what books he carries to school and which ones he doesn’t. 

His new school seems to be aware of this mammoth task and has now issued him with a lockable desk (whew!) so he can leave some of the books behind. Now all I have to worry about is whether or not he will lose the keys (that I am as sure as day going to have to fasten somewhere around his neck,) and find himself unable to access his books for that day.

I am for education as much as, if not more than, the next person. But I am not convinced class four pupils need more than twenty textbooks and exercise books. Neither am I convinced it is healthy for them to carry to and from school bags that look like a back-packing expedition. 

I think the academic competition in our country amongst schools has reached dangerous levels and is threatening to stunt the physical, emotional and even mental growth of our children. There is a time and place for lots of books and study, but lower primary just isn’t it. Amongst all the homework schools need to factor in play time for children. I hate to break it to you but this too is an important part of human development. Those schools that have done away with Physical Exercise lessons in their timetables, as well as games in the name of academic excellence need to reinstate this crucial part of a child’s development.

We must pace the education of our children. We really must be careful to give them only what they can reasonably handle at every stage of their studies, that way they will be better prepared and motivated for the next stage. I am no advocate for the silver spoon for kids, but our education system has gone too far, and the competition for top slots in National Exam results has become unhealthy, to put it mildly.

Let’s go back to the days when education was primarily for the benefit of our kids, not that of school heads, management, owners and teachers. Then maybe our children will enjoy going to school a little more than they do now.

The Universe Sings Harmony

Harmony is when everything moves at out-of-this-world speeds, yet everything is so well coordinated, and relativity so perfect, that individual entities on these spiraling bodies are convinced they are standing still or moving at a slow or comfortable speed. Such is us on the planet, our planet on the universe, and the little microscopic or nearly-microscopic creatures on us. The universe equals harmony. Even the otherwise terrifying sounds of thunder and ocean storms are tuned to sound musical; even the hotter-than-a-furnace rays of the sun are tempered to feel cozy on the skin; even the rain falls to the rhythm of life. Even the mighty snow turns our world into one huge Christmas card.

The universe equals harmony. So peaceful, so quiet, while all along we know it’s moving at manic speeds, pulsating and making horrific sounds that, thankfully, are millions of light years away, or deeply buried in the crusts of the planets so we never have to hear them. We’re oblivious of the fire roaring and blazing in the belly of our planet, and steamy rocks all around us beyond our atmosphere, waiting for a chance to cast one of their deadly fireworks our way. Oblivious of the huge abyss surrounding us that is the sea. Oblivious of the water below water above, fire below fire above.

Such is the power of harmony, the power of unity.

We all know what happens when, every so often, the unity is disturbed; but for the most part, we sing one song on the universe.

The stars sing to the moon, the moon waves to the sun, and the earth bows to all of them, while all salute the Master who makes them all sing as one. It’s indeed a beautiful world…

Maddening Years of Haste

And it was January and it was December, another year.

I remember precisely when it was when the years started spinning out of control. The year was 1980, and I was in class four (yeah, old, I know…) Before then I guess I had no sense of the calendar though I knew it existed. Happy days (some not so happy) simply merged into more happy days, and Christmas and New Year seemed like wonderful holidays that came and went once in a lo……ng while. Besides, these two holidays were really fun, what with all the night events, singing, visitors, peace, safety…

But class four changed all that. I guess I grew up... My little brain suddenly snapped and I understood the concept of time, the calendar, the inevitable and now hasty progression from January to December, the meaning of a year. Things that before got their meaning from events such as school opening day, exams, closing day, holidays etc, were now represented by a number or a word on the calendar. And all of a sudden a year was not so long any more.

I remember it so clearly because it was such a monumental development. My school year in class four seemed to speed past on an unkind mission to usher me into the world of time and rush madness. Hitherto I had been a happy-go-lucky child and my seniors were the custodian of my time. But now my time had acquired an identity, and it was all mine, and it was slipping very quickly through my fingers, through that hour glass.

Well, the upside was that I was hurtling through primary school, a place I very much wanted to leave behind and move on to high school. The down side was that I had been initiated into a club of those who understood time and its hasty mission to turn us all into worrying adults and eventually past tense (funny ha ha!) And now I have the years to prove it. That little girl of class four is no more just a few short years later; in her place is an adult reluctantly moving on to middle age and struggling to gracefully surrender the things of youth. 

I’m sure you are older than I was in class four and so I don’t need to tell you the years have gained new momentum ever since, each new year moving even faster than the last. Sometimes I am convinced the Deity speeds up the time without us ever realizing it; that He makes our clocks seem to move normally while in fact we jump hours, even days forward at a time. Then in the end we are left wondering, ‘where did all the time go? Or ‘oh look at the time!?’, While all along He looks down on us and smiles, drawing us ever faster and closer to the end of time.

So as we embrace and plan the New Year, let’s just remember to adjust our pace because you don’t need me to tell you it will move even faster than the last one and we don’t wanna be caught flatfooted. .. You got to increase your speed if you want to move in harmony with the universe and the world of time, because believe me, it’s not moving at your pace. You just gotta keep up…

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It's A Kenyan Christmas!

Christmas, the celebration of the birth of our Lord, is here again. It is a season many, and Christians in particular, await in anticipation as it marks the beginning of something truly fundamental to the Christian faith. Besides the joys of all the beautiful Christmas carols, dramas, dinners and festivals; Christmas trees, shiny, beautiful ornaments, Christmas lights and the many Father Christmases, there is all the food, drinks, get-togethers, family dos and lots of love and friendliness in the air.

It seems like nothing can go wrong during Christmas. Even the weather is different over this period. After all the wetness of the season, the rain seems to halt or pause its mission, the sun comes on bright in the now clean and crispy environment. Everything is fine with the world.

It’s tradition for nearly everyone in Kenya to go back to wherever we call ‘home’ during Christmas. The cities, Nairobi being no exception, become ghost towns, deserted, free of traffic, devoid of life. Usually home means to grandparents’ home for the young, to parents home for the not so young. In other words we congregate in the home of the oldest surviving members of the immediate family; it is usual to straddle both the home of one’s parents as well as that of one’s in-laws. It’s a juggling game that must be done this way for the desired effect to be achieved as this is Christmas and everyone is in a jolly and friendly mood.

As much as many, not just in Kenya but all over the world have shunned the practice of faith, yet all seem content to celebrate this most important of all Christian holidays (besides Easter, which holds a place of equal importance, if not more.) Advent, as Christians call it, is a celebration of the fact that God the Father sent His only begotten Son to the world so that He would not only bring the Good News, but also BE the Good News by later dying and rising again to bring salvation to the whole world (Easter). So these two holidays are inseparable in their mission and value as they are the whole foundation of the Christian faith.

We will not go into the down-side of Christmas where the businesses have commercialized everything to do with Christmas to the point of airing Christmas sales Ads that are nothing short of sacrilegious. It is a crying shame that one would lure people to a sale tied to a religious festival through advertisements that corrupt the core values of that very religion. I think to celebrate a religious festival everyone should at least do the bare minimum to respect that religion, or otherwise stay away from any associations with it altogether.

And so it’s another busy season for traffic up-country in Kenya, as most of us head back to the cradle. The few who will remain behind will enjoy much quieter cities, and probably just as boring; not to mention the unending, repeated Christmas movies on TV.

Hopefully this time the drivers, both private and public, will be careful on the roads so Christmas can remain a joyful season, not a period of mourning or tragic memories for anyone.

And hopefully, in the spirit of giving that comes with Christmas, our leaders and administrators will show benevolence to Kenyans and realize how ridiculous it is for us to buy a kilo of sugar at Ksh200, a litre of petrol at Ksh120, and a gas cylinder at Ksh4800. That they will realize the meaning of ‘basic commodities’, and ensure that these are not only accessible, but also affordable to all Kenyans. In their hectic dash towards the next general elections, we pray that our leaders will not forget us entirely, leaving us to the mercy of greedy and merciless corporates, industrialists and business persons.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Tribute to a Heroine - Lest we forget

The world stopped

Hearts throbbed

Thousands sobbed

Nature wailed

For the light had gone out

A stunned silence

A muted whisper

A bewildered stammer

An unbelieving stutter

Why so sudden?

Why in your prime?

Why without goodbye?

Why without warning?

You never aged,

Ever so vigorous,

Ever so enthused,

Ever so focused

But the heavenly clock stopped

‘Come home’ the Deity said

You have done enough

It’s time to rest in peace

Your voice, your work, have been heard

Daughter it’s time to rest

Wangari 

The silence at your departure

Continues yet

But your work assumes a new life

Taken by hearts young and old

Hearts that felt your work

And want to keep it alive

Wangari Maathai, A Life So Well Lived - Great Loss for Kenya and the Environment

It fills me with great sadness to have to write this, but it would be criminal not to pay tribute to one of the greatest Kenyan heroines. Yesterday we lost a piece of ourselves as a country. Today Kenya bleeds because our beloved Wangari Maathai, the heroine of the Greenbelt Movement, tree planting, saving the environment and all other things green, is gone. In our hearts and our nation she has left a void we can’t help but feel, and we pray that we will all rise up to fill that void.

Our forests, the wild, nature, will feel her loss. As much as we hope another leader like Wangari will arise and take on her mantle, I pray rather that in each of us her spirit will live and we will continue the work, taking care of our environment, bleeding and raising our voices when the environment is threatened; one at a time, everywhere, greening Kenya in each and every way possible, tending our natural resources like a delicate infant that must be allowed to mature and thrive so it can fulfill its destiny. It’s the least we can do in memory of such a beloved, hard working, tireless, sacrificial national heroine.

For most of us her demise was so sudden, so unexpected, and therefore that much harder to take. But our Nobel Laureate has done her work thoroughly and exhaustively. She surpassed all and went thousands of extra miles because she did it as a passion, was ahead of her time and labored to take us all along with her in the cause to save the environment. She has fought the good fight, kept the faith and finished the race. It is now our turn, if for no other reason, at least to honour her toil, her love for our nation, her devotion.

Rest in peace, our dearest lady.

Kenya and the Hague Dilemma

I find it difficult to make any comments or form an opinion about the Kenyan trials going on at the Hague at the moment. The reason for my dilemma is simple really: When Parliament was given a chance to form a Local Tribunal and spare us the shame and humiliation of being paraded before the whole world, it failed, thus our current predicament. Many of them who, at the time thought they were getting back at the Executive for all sorts of grievances, now find that was a miscalculation as they could never have guessed who exactly would wind up in the Hague. Granted, others are simply elated at the way things are.

Second, one can't help but wonder whether true justice could ever be carried out in our courts for the big fish. Much as we want to believe otherwise, so far the practice has been that the rich, the mighty, the connected, are always acquitted, without fail. Even with a change of guard at key Institutions the practice hasn't yet changed. I guess we'll just have to wait and see, but at the moment we have no idea which direction our Justice is headed.

Of course one also wonders whether our fellow Kenyans will get justice at the Hague. We sure hope so, but there is a little nagging worry that this unbidden desire to 'make an example' of Kenya could strain justice. Why make an example of Kenya, a country that has hitherto behaved itself so well? Why not go for the real rogue nations in 'making an example', and treat Kenyans with greater kindness instead? I'm not suggesting the guilty go unpunished, just that there are other, less harsh, less humiliating ways for a model nation like ours.

And of course one can't help but feel other culprits of Post Election violence, who should also have been in the Hague, were left out of the List. And the big question is why, why, why?

So I watch the proceedings on TV with little interest, often wishing they could simply be reported instead of being beamed live, all the time wishing I could be left to watch the normal line-up of TV programmes. But it's obvious we'll continue to be confronted with the Hague trials, a scourge we can't seem to escape.

Our Post Election victims were deeply wronged by what happened to them, and they must get justice and compensation for their woes. But I can't help but feel Kenya as a nation (not individuals) was wronged too by the way in which this whole Hague issue was discussed and executed.

Well, we all get a chance, many chances in fact, to learn by experience. Hope this hurtful and painful experience has taught us all, our leaders especially, a lesson we will never forget, and that we will never repeat the mistakes of yesterday.


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