Halfway between the College of Education and my house is a little road that leads to a primary school. Every day I walk and talk with children who are quickly scurrying down the road to make it to class on time. Sometimes I’m asked for money, but most of the time I get shy smiles and little waves. After checking in at the college for morning announcements, I learned that the primary school I would be attending for the life skills practicum was the same school I pass every morning, Manonnye Primary School.
We checked in at the reception desk once arriving at Manonnye. The reception area was the same room as the computer lab with a little table off to one side. The room contains about ten computers and posters of the school’s mission, goals, workshops, and calendars which are posted around the room. We conducted our interview with the school head, asking about the school structure, daily activities, and goals and aspirations for the future, among others, before heading out for a tour of the grounds.
The school and classroom structure is similar to the States. Referred to as standard one to seven, these levels correspond to grades one to seven in the States. In addition to the traditional math, science, English, and Setswana subjects, Manonnye has a class for religious and moral education for standards five and up.
Manonnye has a sound structure and set of goals. They designed a program called “Drop and Read” where all children practice their English reading on Tuesdays and Thursdays, in addition to the English class time. This has showed improvements in English abilities across the board. I was impressed by the school’s ability to recognize a problem and propose and implement a solution. Like many schools in the country, lack of resources is a serious problem. There are not enough classrooms, so one class is taught in the storage closet. There are not enough workbooks for the students or paper and ink to copy the few workbooks they do have. This will be an interesting obstacle to overcome when I find my site placement, as I’m sure I will run into similar difficulties.
We were paraded around the school, entering several classrooms where we were asked our names and where we are from. Many of the children were shy and covered their faces when prompted to speak. It was interesting to see the varying levels of self confidence among the students of all ages. Even the seventh graders were shy at times, hiding from us and the teacher.
We went out back to see the garden where we found several women banging five foot tall sticks into buckets. With great curiosity we approached and found them grinding millet which would be used to make phaletshe. There was another woman sitting on the ground sifting through the ground material and returning the larger pieces to the bucket to be ground further. It looked like a tiring, labor intensive process. Not only is phaletshe difficult to cook, but the millet is equally challenging to produce. I have a new appreciation for this basic food that is a staple in Batswana diets. Just beyond the women we found a fire pit where breakfast is cooked for the children in case of a power outage. The campus was quite spectacular and it was nice to know more about the school I pass every day.
When arriving back at school, my group quickly put together our presentation. We aren’t presenting for another wee, but it felt good to get it out of the way and not have to worry about it again. I worked with Margi on creating a daily activities schedule while Kylie and Katie created a community map, a visual record of the campus and the resources within.
After training, I briefly went to the bar to relax after a long week. Per usual, I chose not to drink, especially with the language exam bright and early the next morning. As soon as I got home, I whipped out my Setswana notebook and plopped on the couch. I started talking to Mme Chiliwa about how another volunteer decided to return to the United States today. We were led into an interesting conversation about culture differences and how some people just aren’t cut out to be in Africa. “This is not our home,” mme Chiliwa repeated, “This is not how we live.” It is a luxury to have running water and electricity, but not the true Batswana way. Mme commented that most people walk to the water spigot to fill up their bucket and then walk back. People don’t have to live with these amenities, but some are not fortunate enough to do so. “We should never forget where we come from.” Such powerful and meaningful works that probably dug deeper than Mme Chiliwa had initially intended.
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