School fees in Kenya

 School Fees in Kenya: Why we should care.

After three years of teaching I ended up teaching for a year in rural Kenya.  My school is one of the poorest of the region and holds about 350 students.  Although primary school is officially free in Kenya, secondary school is not.  My students, many orphans or children of single parents, are for the most part poor farmers.  During fee collection days more than half of the schools is drained.  Students are asked to go home and come back the next day with money. Many of them do come back the next day with a few shillings while others never come back.  School fees equal about 130,000 KS (about $150) per year.  Most people in my community make about 100 KS a day. This makes it almost impossible to send one child, let alone four or five to school and continues a cycle of poverty.  At my school, less than half of all the students who finish first in their class can afford to even attend a semester of college.  One of my students wrote of his situation heartbreaking well when he said “my problem is I have ambition.”

I am a firm believer that education can be the great equalizer.  School fees are a major factor that keeps communities like mine poor.  Education beyond form 8 is too expensive for the poor, while the rich are able to pay for the best schools in Kenya or boarding schools around the world. Parents choose between food, medicine, and school fees.  Some of my sophomores in high school are twenty years old because it takes years for parents to save up enough money to educate.  It is heartbreaking to see my incredibly bright, hardworking, and capable students, who really are desperate to learn (they ask for more quizzes and homework), forced to leave school because they just don’t have money.  Even more heartbreaking to think that they will never have a chance to live up to their full potential.  “The problem is I have ambition.”

This is the future generation of Kenya: brilliant and innovative and yet many of them won’t have the opportunity to change their country, our world; to be an engineer, a doctor, a teacher, or a politician, a voice for peace and justice.  What talents are we wasting?

Why should we care? I first of all think there is a Christian argument here.  Jesus calls us to tend to the poor and needy. To speak of those who do not have a voice.

 Beyond that, the US throws millions of dollars of aid on countries like Kenya.  A lot of this aid disappears down the black hole of corruption.  This year has really opened my eyes to corruption and the extent of it has really surprised me.  I believe a lot of that aid would not be needed if countries like Haiti (or Kenya) if the whole population could be educated.  Imagine a new generation of students in countries all over the world being given the opportunity to learn.  I believe this would raise a new generation of thinkers, of problem solvers. Developing countries will become more developed with innovative ideas and dictators will fall with a population in which every man and woman can think for themselves.

Perhaps this is the naïve, ignorant, uninformed ranting of an (still) idealistic teacher who sometimes this year feels she is boarding on going insane.  Still, when we look at Jesus’s message of how He wants us to represent ourselves here, we cannot afford to ignore these kids. 

Now what is the best way to help?  No idea.

School fees in Kenya

 School Fees in Kenya: Why we should care.

After three years of teaching I ended up teaching for a year in rural Kenya.  My school is one of the poorest of the region and holds about 350 students.  Although primary school is officially free in Kenya, secondary school is not.  My students, many orphans or children of single parents, are for the most part poor farmers.  During fee collection days more than half of the schools is drained.  Students are asked to go home and come back the next day with money. Many of them do come back the next day with a few shillings while others never come back.  School fees equal about 130,000 KS (about $150) per year.  Most people in my community make about 100 KS a day. This makes it almost impossible to send one child, let alone four or five to school and continues a cycle of poverty.  At my school, less than half of all the students who finish first in their class can afford to even attend a semester of college.  One of my students wrote of his situation heartbreaking well when he said “my problem is I have ambition.”

I am a firm believe that education can be the great equalizer.  School fees are a major factor that keeps communities like mine poor.  Education beyond form 8 is too expensive for the poor, while the rich are able to pay for the best schools in Kenya or boarding schools around the world. Parents choose between food, medicine, and school fees.  Some of my sophomores in high school are twenty years old because it takes years for parents to save up enough money to educate.  It is heartbreaking to see my incredibly bright, hardworking, and capable students, who really are desperate to learn (they ask for more quizzes and homework), forced to leave school because they just don’t have money.  Even more heartbreaking to think that they will never have a chance to live up to their full potential.  “The problem is I have ambition.”

This is the future generation of Kenya: brilliant and innovative and yet many of them won’t have the opportunity to change their country, our world; to be an engineer, a doctor, a teacher, or a politician, a voice for peace and justice.  What talents are we wasting?

Why should we care? I first of all think there is a Christian argument here.  Jesus calls us to tend to the poor and needy. To speak of those who do not have a voice.

 Beyond that, the US throws millions of dollars of aid on countries like Kenya.  A lot of this aid disappears down the black hole of corruption.  This year has really opened my eyes to corruption and the extent of it has really surprised me.  I believe a lot of that aid would not be needed if countries like Haiti (or Kenya) if the whole population could be educated.  Imagine a new generation of students in countries all over the world being given the opportunity to learn.  I believe this would raise a new generation of thinkers, of problem solvers. Developing countries will become more developed with innovative ideas and dictators will fall with a population in which every man and woman can think for themselves.

Perhaps this is the naïve, ignorant, uninformed ranting of an (still) idealistic teacher who sometimes this year feels she is boarding on going insane.  Still, when we look at Jesus’s message of how He wants us to represent ourselves here, we cannot afford to ignore these kids. 

Now what is the best way to help?  No idea.

What have we been doing?

I know that Amy and I have a habit of writing about emotions and reflections, and rarely actually tell you what is going on, what we are doing, or even where we are. I think for us these seem less important because we know what we are doing. We know where we are. I think we use these blogs to help us understand and reflect on what has happened. This can be frustrating to the reader. You may know we have had a good day, or a bad day, but that may not tell you much. So here it goes, my attempt at what our Lent looked like:

Jan/Feb/March is a dry season in East Africa, and our water supply in Ratta depends on the rains. We were never without water (someone brings barrels of water to the compound) but we had to be economic with our supply. This meant reusing our laundry water to flush the toilet, minimizing amount and length of showers, and getting creative when doing the dishes. I have never prayed for rain more. I have never appreciated water more. And I hope it is enough not to take it for granted again.

March began with a long weekend from school. Amy and I took advantage by crossing the border into Jinja, Uganda, where we went bungee jumping and whitewater rafting on the Nile river. One of the most fun days of my life. There were times between rapids when we were able to just float in the Nile, alongside our raft. The river had a very cleansing affect on both our body and soul.

After the Jinja, Amy and I had a great week. We were revitalized, we finally had a full class load (3 English classes, 1 Math, a computer class in the evenings, and I taught PE to the whole school. , and we got great news about our future plans. That week we decided to move back (for me) to Louisville, KY where I will attend LPTS. It was an exciting decision, and helped keep us going.

There is not much to say about the rest of March. Quite honestly, it was a little boring. We taught during the day, we read or watched a movie at night, and we went grocery shopping in Luoanda or Kisumu on the weekends. We would be called mzungu about 100 times a day, and asked "How are you?" another 100. The only acceptable response being: "I am fine." Which is still not enough to warrant children to stop shouting the question at us. Amy stayed regular with running, I did not. We played a lot of games, we read a lot of books, we watched a lot of movies, and we wrote a lot in our journal. I found a good tree on our compound to climb, and sit, and think. Amy found sanity in planning trips for our parents and looking up apartments on craigslist. Our students enjoyed lessons in the computer lab, Amy's poetry unit featuring K'naan and Bob Marley, and the chance to get outside and run around in PE.

At the end of March we spent a weekend in Kisumu to celebrate Amy's birthday. We stayed at a hotel with a hot shower, a cold pool, and air conditioning. We had dinner at ex-pat restaurants. It was a nice break from Ratta.

But even with that reprieve, we started to go a little bit crazy. We had been in Ratta for 3 months straight (minus a visit from Aunt LeeAnn, and our 3 day Nile trip). And we needed a break from Kenyan country life. We were done. We were/are exhausted. We had nothing left in our tank, but we needed to stay through exams. So we did. We cried a few times, we yelled a fews times, we curled up in a ball and went catatonic a few times. Our last night in Ratta was the most dramatic/emotional. I was marking a Math exam while Amy marked an English one that included a journal entry section. Amy read traumatic experience after traumatic experience, and it put us over the edge. That night I felt crushed by over-whelming worries, Amy cried over the situation of some of our students, we fought about who knows what, we stood in the cold rain, the power went out and we held each other crying in the dark. But we made it through. The sun came up, and it was a new day. We finished out exams, turned in our grades, and got on a night bus to Nairobi.

Since then we have been staying with Amelia, and had Easter dinner with Phyllis and family. It has been nice to have other people to talk to. It has been nice to have restaurants and grocery stores within walking distance, it has been nice to go to a B-movie, it has been nice to talk a hot shower, it has been nice to go for a run without everyone staring, and it has been nice to walk down the street without our usual theme song: "Mzungu How are you?"

We have until May off of school, and our planning a trip around the National Parks of Southwestern Uganda, and to the city of Kigali in Rwanda. Our goal for April is to enjoy our time here, and make sure to leave East Africa with some great memories.

So Happy Easter. I hope this was a more informative blog than usual. Thank you to everyone who reads these, and is keeping us in their thoughts and prayers. It means a lot just knowing someone anyone cares that we are here.