The State of Rural Education: Take 2

Wednesday, 15 December: Part II

It's been said that necessity is the mother of invention. Nowhere have I seen this more clearly manifested, than in the rural areas of Africa and India. In fact, aid workers employ the slang term "afro-engineering", in order to describe making so much from so little.

Poverty and lack of resources push innovation to new levels, much further beyond "making lemonade from lemons". The results are often more akin to making citrus Absolut and opening a whole new bar or distillery from lemons, and then using the rinds to make naturally composting fertilizer. To employ another cliche, it's "using all the parts of the buffalo".

Last year, this concept was beautifully chronicled in William Kamkwamba's story, The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind. Using everything from discarded PVC pipe to ball point pens to bicycle tires, Kamkwamba fashioned a windmill to bring electricity to his rural Malawian village. This was done after teaching himself engineering concepts from scouring books at his school and village library. While some might regard his genius as nothing short of miraculous, Kamkwamba in fact embodies the tenacity and power of unleashing a mind through education and inspiration. All he needed was a chance. That chance changed not only his life, but his world.

As we left the VF training program and wandered to the neighboring primary and secondary schools, we were met by an onslaught of laughing children, rushing from their classrooms--some of which were under a tree, to meet us. Who among them, I wondered, would be the next Kamkwamba, if only given the chance? Pulling at our sleeves and asking for pictures, we posed with the children. "Remember", said Kiran, "this is who you're fighting for". "Damn it, Kiran", I said. "You know you can't say those things without Kleenex!"

Walking onward, we were joined by teachers. Touring the grounds, I was immediatley struck by their level of committment and optimism. Yes, they were short-staffed (insert gvt. teachers not showing up), yes they lacked classrooms, but look at the children who came and whose parents were willing to have them learn. "Sure, we would like a computer lab and library, but we will have to build up, as our space is small", said the headmasters. Small? They had crammed 192 students into 5 classrooms roughly the size of my laundry room/breakfast nook. My shame at my own ingratitude and their gleeful hope was growing expotentially. Did I mention the five classooms lacked benches, let alone desks?

Kiran and Shridhar began a round of practical questions: What kind of infrastructure was the school lacking? What were the areas of expertise of each instructor? Were there toilets? Water? Yes, there was a bore well for water. However, without a water tank, the water could not be properly treated, and therefore was not potable for drinking. The spiggots served mainly as a washing station. Toilets? Yes, there were two. Two toilets for 192 students. (Do the math) And by toilets, this is what we mean:

"Of course, it could be worse", chimed in the science teacher. "Come see my classroom." Approaching his side of the building, our gaze was met with murals embuing the spirit of Rivera. No textbooks? No problem. He had simply transcribed the basics of botany and biology on to the walls.

Our minds downshifted immediately into American problem solving mode, aptly described by Adam (my husband) as "throw-money-at-it-and-make-it-go-away". Sure, for a few thousand dollars, these issues could be resolved--and to be clear, that's exactly what we want to have happen. But beyond that, at the core, the real problem lies with centuries of colonial domination, societal oppression and development induced dependency. These are the roots that allow abject poverty and broken infrastructures to continue. A hefty order, with no easy answers. Except one: Every Child Deserves a Chance.