dedication

I skidded and slithered along the sandy track like a pro, amidst cries of ‘welcome welcome’ from a crawling line of children.  Shown the way by willing pointing fingers I eventually slowed to the wide, tooth rotting grin from the headmaster who’d asked for help last week.  Chief cook and bottle washer of the immaculately kept piece ground, he is in his second year of training.  It was exactly the senario I imagined all those months ago when I first heard we were coming to Africa.  Built in the bush the school has a two buildings, one unusable because of the biting insects that inhabit the plaster, the second a large concrete rectangle with sparse wooden benches and little else. 

There is, of course, no electricity but the ‘playground’ boasts a well and a thriving community garden tended by the women.  Both the tended beds and the school are free of charge for there is no money in the village.  Sargio, the kindly and enthusiastic head is passionate about education and the importance of nursery.  ‘It’s the foundation, Hawa, and the children leave here ready to learn.’  His excitement is infectious and the children respond to songs and learning – the best I’ve seen so far.  They even understand.

I arrived at breakfast time, when the children go home for food, for there are no facilities to feed them.   As they returned they took turns to shake my hand and tell me their names, speaking in clear English. Many shoeless and generally on the grubby side they were delightful.  We wrote in the sand, counted stones, drew pictures with mud and then into class.  I was mobbed by children wanting to sit next to me, one little dot, dressed in a pink party dress in my honour, sat on my lap whilst I sat, amazed.  Fifty children, aged between 2 and 7, learning colours and shapes, demonstrated with home made ‘teaching aids from local materials’ ie. recycled cardboard boxes and bags.  So okay there were a few crawling on the ground, and some were so taken with my skin they lost all concentration but wow, this man is gifted and truly cares and teaches the children against all the odds.

In The Gambia the government does not fund pre-school.  If parents don’t pay the teachers get nothing, hence the big class.  Sargio is supported by his family and has found Swiss sponsers to fund his course, which he attends in the holidays, but earns nothing.  He is certain the only way forward for his community is through education.  If he’s ill there is no school, but he proudly told me that he hasn’t had a day off in three years except one – the day he came and asked me for help.  Will I try to help?  You bet your bottom Dalasi.