Archive for January, 2014

January 23, 2014

Rethinking Schooling, and Others


It’s a sunny morning at Kilimani Primary School. March 03rd 2013. We are on a queue, waiting for a chance to exercise our civic duty to vote in a new crop of leadership. New, in this case is debatable. It could be edged in our mind that new means finally a young leadership. And that again has the potential to be stretched to accommodate as many opinions. Why, I am of the opinion that young denotes energy, but this energy could also be bottled destructive energy. Just as old age is not always wisdom. It’s always great folly to meet an old fool, by the way, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. And as the queue snakes its way around the run down classroom blocks, my mind is awash with such thoughts. I am not sure my candidates will make it beyond the ballot box, to be President or something else, but I have learnt to follow my conscience. Vote with my conscience. And this morning, like many others, I am convinced that my conscience is not flawed, and whatever choice I make, despite the consequences I can live with it. My leader of choice may not make it, but that is okay, for the primary reason is not to make a leader, but to exercise a democratic right. This is so individualistic, and I can only hope as many see my sense, and the guy wins. In case he doesn’t it is well. I played my part.

But it’s the small talk that ensue the conversation with my neighbor, which makes it easier to brave the 3 hours ahead. He is joined by an acquaintance, who I am to learn is an engineer. He works in Kilimani but lives in Easleigh. He has been out of school for a couple of years but his demeanor is nothing but a man who labors to eke out a living, which seems to pass him by. But why, this was that kid in school who had big hopes of being the road engineer that would fix the village cattle track that is the road to his home, that kid who braved long cold nights reading mole concept, Polymers etc. At times I am grateful to the small mercies of nature that I attended a high school where morning preps were not compulsory; this is besides the fact that my mind could never absorb anything meaningful beyond 8.30pm. Probably a reason why I haven’t yet become all that father dreamt of me. Those big candid dreams. But I digress.

Not that all men and women of great brains look miserable. In fact the mere thought of being a great brain is a huge plus. If you don’t believe me, try arguing with a fool. But probably nature should reward them more for these brains. And others for being cheated out of their luck and wits, imagining a great end out there, that proved just the beginning of tale end miseries. But it is a tough jungle for all out here, from the art student blogs some vanity that crossed her mind, to the Engineer and even the Doctor. Poor souls the doctors. It baffles me that the government is yet to take their work grievances seriously.

My neighbor on the queue is an artist and seems to share my sentiments. I also, for the sake of the conversation take up an artist title. I crotchet some pretty little stuff (not table mats though or granny sweaters!), I sew, I tell stories etc. That is a work of art, no? He tells of this guy in their high school class who was so brilliant, applied little effort in studies but effortlessly scored A’s, well, apart from Kiswahili. This boy had a thing for sciences, and dismantling stuff and reconstructing them was his pastime. You would expect his future to be bright. But we have an education system that has refused to adapt. I still don’t understand why their idea of revising the primary school syllabus, for instance, meant doing away with GHC, ACM etc If you can’t get these acronyms right, you are far from getting my story. Not that the subjects were structured with a better aim beyond getting good grades, but it’s mockery to imagine what they came up with as an alternative. Less subjects, less burden to kids, more chances to pass exams, That’s kind of makes sense in our competitive system but doesn’t make things right yet. I fault a system that doesn’t think beyond grades, and that’s why we have to contend with an unmanageable mess at the end of this conveyor belt that is the 844 system.

My neighbor then tells of his encounter with this brilliant chap of his day. He had gone to a customer care/retail center of some leading Telcom. And there was some confusion at seeing this genius there. He had finished his engineering degree, and he found a job. As a customer care person. Nothing challenging or to tap his otherwise brilliant mind. Just a friendly smile, politeness and all these other basic etiquette niceties they require in customer care is all he needs for his paycheck. And his frustration could be read, as he spoke to his former school mate. That’s where the world ‘out here’ placed his ambition.

Think of Albert Einstein. My neighbor suddenly says. Alert, and knowing where this is headed, I nod in agreement that the school system, if it has to get us beyond the ‘grades’ and ‘degree’ system needs to be overhauled or to be accommodative of individual student needs. But this may be too much asking of a poorly paid teacher. Back to the point, why torture a student who is good at languages (that was ME!) with Physics. I wouldn’t care much for gravity laws as long as I remain grounded and my steps steady as I walk or that if I fly, the plane won’t be perched on the skies. I would only be worried to lift my foot and instead of the accustomed walking way, be thrust high or jumping up and not coming down. I would prefer that the guy in class who is good with Physics, or wires and stuff gets all attention that would otherwise be wasted with me. That reminds me that only bulb is currently functional at home, because I can never help myself to change a bulb. Probably a kick for hating Physics.

And just as Einstein, I could bet many students felt victimized by a system that stifles creativity. You are not allowed to invent. Look at that guy who tried to fly his “homemade plane” the other day at Ruiru. He was barred. Like it’s a criminal offense, and the chiding remarks regarding his home made contraption were not helping manage his creativity or push it a notch higher. To me, it was simply an evidence of some lack in our education system. A gap that one is trying to fill. A JAB admitted Uni student would tell you the woes of being taken in an Anthropology class, against will, simply because that’s the merit of the grade, besides the disillusionment that this graduate faces after 4 years of school life. I think I was so far from brilliant, I identified what father thought was good for me, and not sure I would reach there following his route, ditched it for my 2 plans. I have somehow managed to get to a path to both, one as a career, and the other a hobby.

200,000 pupils may miss secondary education this year. No places for them, and by extension no proper place for them in society. As much as education is a door opener, even to possibilities beyond our imagination, some educator somewhere, should re-invent what ‘education’ means. So that when a kid misses the ‘great grades’, that doesn’t mean an end to living. Some of my village peers, who could hardly spell out their own names, have turned out well. Well, here means respectable,. Respectable denoting many things including legally made money and enviable businesses. Conversely, some fellows who easily made ‘good grades’, have only managed to make even greater grades in their second degrees and third degrees. It’s the folly of life.

Next month, if I could remember, may be the time we get results for 2013 KCSE. There will be Aaahs, and Ooohs and other indescribable feelings. I have always pitied a child who exuberantly says what they want to become, and most of these choices are pegged to what the society has branded as ‘good career choices’. A friend in Medical sciences recently told me that she is considering an Arts Degree for her Masters studies. Taken aback, I asked why. She didn’t belabor to explain that Arts has always been her thing, Sciences was merely for ‘employ-ability’. That employ-ability hasn’t been as satisfying for her, evidently. But in a society that thrives on its set ways, why am I even suggesting chasing the wind.

Winded up reading some Harlequin classic, “Trick to getting a Mom”, and Alex, the 9 year old who doesn’t seem to help herself in getting composed with right manners for a proper school child, is ever getting into trouble. Her father and she, love ‘lobstering’, and she is so masterful in the skill…., and it feels that she is already living the life that the rest of the kids are being prepared for out there. She has got such rational thinking for her age; you almost think she is an adult trapped in a baby body. But her Principal lacks this understanding, perhaps why it’s easy for her to send the adventurous girl for a two weeks’ suspension, when all that would be needed was to identity a system that would work for this child and her interests. But it is easy for the society to say that she lives in fantasy world. I think there remains a place for formal schooling, and even more special place for those that accommodate areas that kids excel in, and go ahead to give a chance for their skills to thrive in the society.

All said, it’s still never too late to be what you might have been!

January 6, 2014

Book Review: Shreds of Tenderness by John Ruganda


DISCOVERING THE MIND

A riveting drama, you will find the themes in this book interweaving your thoughts on the realities of present day African countries. You will also cackle at the humour of the daily lives of the characters, despite their otherwise difficult situations. Grab your copy, and enjoy the intricacies therein but until then, see my review:

Oh, no Wak. I know you probably mean well. In fact, I know you mean well. But, no. Let me do my penance, if need be. If the forces that be are rounding up all SRB spies, so be it. Let them. I’m not scared of the law. I’ll serve my term and keep my dignity. Pg. 134

The first book that I read written by J. Ruganda was “The Burdens”, and whether from the dramatic presentation of this work by my high school teacher or the sheer love of words, I simply loved this drama. Published in 2001 by Oxford University Press, Shreds of Tenderness is set in a greedy society, which is characteristic of political dictatorship, greed for power, betrayal that is edged in family and political relations, individualism and use of excessive power to harness into submission the disloyal errants. It is also about survival in times of political tyranny. It also sheds light to the survival and plight of refugees, the lack of belonging “while on the run” and the lack of acceptance, “when they come back home”

Set in the present and in home of a fallen affluent minister (Odie and Wak’s late father), the flash backs and “play-within-a play” helps the reader see through the atrocities committed by the fallen tyrannical regime. Odie plays the “King of Termites” who lives in a glass jar, excerpt:

Your Highness…

Your Highness. Having a royal nap, your Highness, are you? A royal nap inspite of the shooting and the shelling and the killing outside? (A bit impatient). YOUR HIGHNESS. Are you deaf, Your Mighty Highness? Or is it that you have no ear for the onslaughts of man by man? No ear for human cries of woe? I’m amazed! No Shred of tenderness left in you? The liberation war is upon our backs and you take time off to have a royal nap. Cosy, very cosy indeed. Cosy and careless, I might add. Pg. 2

Notes: This depicts the obliviousness of those in power, and their indifference to people’s suffering caused by the war of liberation.

Since Wak returned from exile, Odie is never the same. His abnormial behavior is edged in a deep hatred for Wak, whom he views as a bloody deserter. A bloody unforgivable traitor, to be exact. Pg. 8 & 9. But Odie’s hatred is also laced with fear. Possibly fear that Wak’s presence will unearth sudden truths regarding his exile and his supposed death. It could also stretch to the motives behind Odie’s informing on his brother Wak, the issue of inheritance. Even Stella seems to notice the strange behavior:

You have been behaving strangely since he returned three weeks ago. Haven’t you? (pg.11).

To his defense against sister’s accusation, Odie points out that Stella must be a crack pot to think that Wak should scare him. Why, he has survived 10 years of dire violence, where every second was a nightmare and life unpredictable hence got not time for a sausage-and-bacon returnee who did not have as much guts as a cowardly chimpanzee when the bullets started ricocheting. (pg.12)

Odie would like the reader to believe that his hatred for Wak is justified, that he shouldn’t have cowed and ran away at the height of political unrest. The sister, Stella feels something more sinister is at play. Something unsettling. Some kind of guilt that Odie seems to harbour within. She doesn’t seem to see the how to the realization of the horrors of genocide 10 years on (pg. 9). Odie must be hiding something from her. Some projected inner guilt, calling for a purging.

While the people who stayed on suffered unmentionable atrocities, even the people who fled as refugees suffered a great deal.

“..You stayed and lived through the quagmire, as best as you could. I can imagine that and I appreciate it intensely. But fleeing from your own country…that’s another matter, man. A different kettle of fish, as they say. There is nothing as abominable as being a refugee, let me tell you. Shouted at. Your dignity is lowered. Hell, man. It is a blight….self-exile is another matter of course………….From the sweeper to the highest official they subtly remind you that you don’t belong. You are an alien. Pg. 80

At first you live under false illusions……But then, all of a sudden, you get the first rude shock from both local and foreign press. Headlines alone are enough to tell you their thinking processes: ‘MARXIST TYRANT BOOTED OUT BY A POPULAR ILLITERATE SERGEANT MAJOR’…’COUP IS A VICTORY FOR DEMOCRACY…’WE RECOGNIZE STATES NOT INDIVIDUALS’ ……I had believed the regime would be in a shambles in a matter of months. I was wrong and naïve, to be frank. The regime had minerals that the West and the East wanted and were willing to cast a blind eye on one buffoon of a nigger trashing other niggers…………..We never realized that our endowments would be our undoing! Pg. 82 & 83

Whilst the country of setting would pass for Kenya (mention of Odeon Cinema-pg. 76), it could also pass for any other East African country but more particularly so, a country anywhere in Africa. The leaders using their political powers to influence extra-judicial killings, sharing of power etc…Rings a bell? I laughed out loud when there is a tug between Wak and his brother Odie (step-brothers) about sharing of power after they could not agree to the Primer rules, and this made me flash back to 2008 Kenya “power sharing” deal. It’s interesting this book was written in 2001, almost fore-shadowing the events of 2008, and any other political duels where power sharing ratios have become part of the solution to political stalemates.

Odie: I didn’t realize that our self-appointed Returning Officer was going to be biased and bribable. Besides my call for an independent observer team to monitor the elections was deliberately ignored.

Wak: And yet you objected because you were sure of winning, right? But now you have lost, it’s another matter. Is defeat such an unacceptable burden? Christ! We can’t all be winners, you know. Pg. 60 & 61

As the primer game goes on, and with Wak’s 2/3rd majority win, giving him the clear mandate to change laws, rules and regulations as fit, the disagreements dwell on matters principle and the mundane too. Wak is considered common place thinker, as Odie thinks something more authentic to fit in what the publishers want is more appropriate. You would think authentic would also do with telling a truth. But not so, in the hard times, pleasing the judges would mean the prize of $5000 is such a welcome token, in the tough times they live in. Whilst one accuses the other of a country betrayal, there is also a sense of conformity, even if it means re-writing their story to fit the judge’s profile, for survival sake. “Competition for the New Alphabet Book for the Revolutionary Third World” Not Africa, Third World. So A-as a primer would not work for Africa but for Autocracy—argues Odie. “ A may be for your mother Africa, but remember in ten or twenty years’ time there will be children who will learn with bitterness that your Africa, and Brazil and Cuba, ‘Mr. Chair’, are not their motherlands but graveyards for their parents and relatives. We are busy rewriting our histories with the blood of millions of political martyrs, and our children will have the misfortune of learning that with spouts of tears and self-hatred. (pg. 62)

….And the drama ensues, with Stella suggesting B–for the Bible,earlier on she had suggested A-for Amen to which Odie refutes, and implores her to be imaginative for a change. Well, B-Bible doesn’t work either, not at least as far as Odie’s maxims theorizes.

Look at it this way, Stella. I’m not saying that BIBLE is a wrong entry. No. (Patronisingly) In fact, it’s very good; it would win the soft sentiments of our Christian mothers and fathers and all that. But who knows? One of these fine mornings, when cocks are crowing and the likes of Wak are snoring off their whisky fumes, some influential maniac might decide to proclaim this our ‘Pearl of Africa” and Islāmic state. What then?….What will happen then? We do not want to endanger our Christian brothers and sisters, do we? That aside, the Bible has bullied us into subjugation for over a century. ….. No, Stella, we need a new primer altogether, with entries from the Koran or some other holy books-if you are religiously inclined that is. pg.67-8

The drama also focuses on a domestic setting; shedding light to acts of three siblings, Wak, Odie and Stella. In Part one, the reader is led to believe that Odie is a patriot, who stayed behind amidst political turmoil, while Wak his brother is depicted as a betrayer of his country and family. The reader is set to believe that Wak, who ran away to political exile after emptying the family’s coffers and leaving behind an ailing mother in hospital deserves no place in the reconstruction of the country. Stella feels strongly for Wak, something Odie detests and is quick to warn her “And you little sister, be careful; this kith-and-kin-nonsense doesn’t wash with me”

Odie’s hypocrisy is deep hidden in the resentment for his brother and the unraveling of his return. He seems too preoccupied by his guilt. He had plotted his brother’s downfall–and after 10 years in exile, ran an advert to the belief that his brother was dead. This was to make him an accepted heir of his father’s property, to which Wak was the rightful heir.

Conversely Wak passes as a callous fellow, who would rather Wak be punished for “abdicating his patriotic duties”, it turns out that Wak is willing to extend a reconciliatory gesture to his brother Odie. Stella is really afraid of Wak’s supposed callousness, but he corrects her that Odie is brother…no tears need be shed. There is a re-conciliatory embrace…perhaps depicting a healing to/reconciliation of the nation too. Turns out the cold-hearted, bitter Odie is the callous one. He didn’t mind their grandma’s death, terming it Good Riddance,..”she always ate her biscuits alone.” “Never shed a tear nor even apologized when their father died”. Pg.76

To Odie’s utter incredulousness, he is forgiven, even after he insists that he wants to do his penance…, something that takes Wak and Stella in shock. Are you out of your mind? Pg. 134

On the contrary, I have discovered my mind.