Alex Rawlinson
Alex Rawlinson in Uganda with Students Partnership World-Wide - an invaluable read for anyone going to teach in Africa
"I spent two terms teaching Health Education, English and Biology in a rural school in Uganda, as a volunteer with the charity SPW.
"This is how the first explorers must have felt like…." These were my thoughts as I was driven from Entebbe airport, in a battered old minibus, to my new home in the heart of Africa. I watched the banana trees and mud huts flash past outside my window, and by the fascinated stares and excited shouts of "Muzungu!" (White Man) of the children on the roadside, it seemed I was one of the first Europeans on Ugandan soil since independence. I was not, of course; for a start, SPW had been established in Uganda for two years already. Nonetheless, a white person does not slip by unnoticed in rural Africa. In my village, when I walked past their huts every morning on my way home from school, a gaggle or pot-bellied young children, usually naked and with porridge dribbling down their chins, would run out wide-eyed to catch a sight of the Muzungu.
"This is how the first explorers must have felt like…." These were my thoughts as I was driven from Entebbe airport, in a battered old minibus, to my new home in the heart of Africa. I watched the banana trees and mud huts flash past outside my window, and by the fascinated stares and excited shouts of "Muzungu!" (White Man) of the children on the roadside, it seemed I was one of the first Europeans on Ugandan soil since independence. I was not, of course; for a start, SPW had been established in Uganda for two years already. Nonetheless, a white person does not slip by unnoticed in rural Africa. In my village, when I walked past their huts every morning on my way home from school, a gaggle or pot-bellied young children, usually naked and with porridge dribbling down their chins, would run out wide-eyed to catch a sight of the Muzungu.
SPW’s mission is "youth-centred development"; it believes that through the efforts of the young people, the quality of life in poor countries like Uganda can be improved. Volunteers, half of whom are recruited locally, are usually about to enter university or have recently graduated. They are placed in communities where it is hoped they can be a positive influence on young people, and help them to gain skills and information, which might not otherwise be available to them. As well as helping under-funded, over-subscribed rural schools with subject teaching (I taught English and Biology to O-level standard), we were expected to start up clubs and sports (which were in existence officially but had been dormant for many years), and, most importantly, to teach Non-Formal Education: this involves presenting and discussing topics like AIDS and sexual health, hygiene, environmental degradation, adolescence, gender inequality, and so on.
Thankfully, SPW did not expect us to achieve all this on our own: by the time the new school year started in February, we had a month-long intensive training course under our belts, and in any case, we were placed in pairs in each school. My partner was Christopher, a 24-year-old Ugandan volunteer. He was from a wealthy, city-dwelling family and had completed his university studies; so village life was almost as great a shock to him as it was to me. Luckily for me, he was also extremely enthusiastic and, within a few weeks, a great friend. The fact that our two cultures were very different meant that, when we discussed what we ought to do at school, we always came up with varied ideas, suggestions and solutions. In addition, he was an invaluable source of knowledge on African tradition attitudes, and on prices at the market. I called him "Muzei", meaning Respected Elder, in view of his age, his wisdom, and his beard. Inevitably, he called me – you guessed it – "Muzungu".
We were posted to Nyondo Secondary School, in the foothills of Mount Elgon in the South East of the country. It is a beautiful area, and immensely fertile. Shockingly though, even here, with two harvests per year, people go hungry, as families are so large and fertilisers too expensive. The mango tree in front of our house bore no ripe mangoes, because they had all been eaten, still unripe, by hungry children. School fees are luxury (secondary education is not free in Uganda): every fortnight, pupils with unacceptable arrears half the school – were refused entry into class and told to find money or not come back. Most (but never all) eventually came back, in dribs and drabs, meaning that I had to teach the same topics four times.
Realistically, very few of my pupils will do well in their exams, and only a handful will find jobs. English, though the official language of Uganda and of the schoolroom is spoken very badly by most people. I never had the heart to tell my 27-year-old pupil, married with two children, that he would almost certainly fail his exams. ("How is I do, Sir?" "Well, there’s a long way to go yet, but I think you can improve.") Non-formal Education, on the other hand, was a resounding success. At the end, some teachers complained that we had never invited them to attend our classes – now the pupils knew more about HIV/AIDS than they did! For the history teacher, sadly, it would all have come too late anyway. He was very ill for most of the second term, because of AIDS, and he died during my last week in Uganda.
To spread the messages that we had taught the pupils, Christopher and I organised a Health Day in April, to which 7,000 people came. We invited six neighbouring schools to set up stalls and produce plays on particular health topics, such as HIV/AIDS, malaria, good nutrition, alcohol abuse, and sanitation. We also invited organisations concerned with health to present a piece: the Red Cross, Straight Talk (a free youth newspaper) and AIDS Information Centre came.
By the end of my time in Uganda I was a less enthusiastic health preacher. In eight months I had managed to contract a good number of tropical diseases, including malaria three times. I had also lost a great deal of weight, the consequence of a diet consisting mainly of posho (tasteless maize porridge), rice, and beans, and bananas by the dozen. There was little more to buy locally. Daily chores, meanwhile, were much as expected: pumping water from the well, bathing in an icy-cold bucket, hand-washing clothes…
School was therefore much more enjoyable than home, and Christopher and I were soon spending as much time there as possible, starting up various activities. In the Health & Environment Club we invited outside speakers to demonstrate how to build fuel-saving stoves and the like, and we taught basic First Aid. In the Newspaper Club, pupils compiled a weekly news board. The football team were very excited when we enrolled them for a district tournament. But when I turned up on the big day, I was rather surprised to recognise only one face from the dozen that we had trained with, that of the captain: fearing defeat, he had replaced his players with "mercenaries", other, more talented local young men from the village. They lost all their matches.
School was therefore much more enjoyable than home, and Christopher and I were soon spending as much time there as possible, starting up various activities. In the Health & Environment Club we invited outside speakers to demonstrate how to build fuel-saving stoves and the like, and we taught basic First Aid. In the Newspaper Club, pupils compiled a weekly news board. The football team were very excited when we enrolled them for a district tournament. But when I turned up on the big day, I was rather surprised to recognise only one face from the dozen that we had trained with, that of the captain: fearing defeat, he had replaced his players with "mercenaries", other, more talented local young men from the village. They lost all their matches.
With money that I had raised in Britain, Christopher and I set about building and stocking a library for the school. Local men volunteered their labour, and the building was completed just before I left. Meanwhile we had gone on a shopping spree in the capital city, buying one copy of the core textbooks for each subject as well as English language readers: at least now the best and keenest students will have a chance to achieve good grades (for some subjects there was not a single textbook, and only two members of staff are qualified teachers).
Amidst all this activity, the other teachers looked at us in amused bewilderment ("So what’s in it for you? Volunteers?!"). The staff hut was the best place to catch up on local gossip. I was soon told, for instance, that the Religious Education teacher, Rev. Shindu, was in fact an ex-reverend: defrocked on account of his two wives. One day the Agriculture teacher took me aside and secretly showed me a sample of gold dust, which a friend of his had found; there was much more where that came from, he had been assured, and then he would be rich! I had to explain gently what decorative glitter was. ("Notice the shiny read and shiny blue specks as well.") He looked utterly crushed.
The staff and the pupils at Nyondo were always fascinated to hear about life in Europe: the seasons, the Underground, the Big Mac. The day I brought my camera into school, I was elevated to the status of Superstar. Anywhere I went, I was everyone’s best friend, even when I had never met them. It could be annoying, and I often wished I could have black skin. Sometimes I also felt that my job would have been done so much better be a Ugandan: Christopher understood attitudes and situations so much better than me.
Christopher made me see, however, that my exotic background (to Ugandans) was a very great asset. Just the fact that I had travelled so far to come and live with them, gave people a positive feeling and a desire to make things better. And my different way of doing things challenged Ugandan preconceptions. ("His classes begin on time!" "He treats girls as equal to boys!") Naturally, though, it was I who changed the most, and undoubtedly I who benefited the most from being there. I had a wonderful time, and have had to leave behind many great friends."