sandiquiz's WunderBlog

Teaching in Zambia 1974-77 Part 1

Posted by: sandiquiz, 02:50 PM GMT on mai 15, 2012

After a suggestion yesterday from BriarCraft that I write about my time in Zambia, I looked out my copy of “The Retirement” blog from July 2007.
I had a very pleasant hour reading through the first ten days, which included the two and a half years I spent in Zambia.

So for new WU members who did not read it the first time around, and for old timers who wish for another read, here is the extract about my time in Zambia.

I have decided there is too much for one entry so have divided it into two part …..

Part 1

Zambia August 1974 – February 1977

In June 1974 my first husband attended an interview in London at the Zambian High Commission where he secured a position to work as a surveyor for the Government in Lusaka, Zambia. We put our home in the hands of a letting agent, said our farewells to family, and flew out to Central Africa on August 6th.

We arrived at the end of the Zambian winter! All the locals were wearing anoraks, gloves and balaclava helmets, whereas I took off my tights and put on sandals! The temperature was in the mid 70's and felt beautifully warm to me. (We had left behind a chilly summer in the UK.) To the Zambians, the temperature was "cold"! By the middle of August 1975, my second winter there, I was wearing thick socks and warm woolly jumpers when the temperature was in the mid 70’s! It is all relative.

After three weeks acclimatising myself to the new way of life, I went to the local education office to ask if they had any vacancies. A smartly dressed Zambian gentleman asked me to show him my certificate to signify I was a qualified teacher. Luckily, I had been advised to take my qualifications with me. He glanced at my certificate, read out my name and checked it against my passport. Then I was told to report to a nearby primary school at 7am the next day. That was it, no interview, no nothing!

The next morning I found myself in the courtyard of a school, where the grass surface had turned to dust. The classrooms, arranged around the courtyard, were raised up on platforms, topped with corrugated metal. We roasted in the heat of summer and were deafened when it rained! It was a large primary school, bigger than the ones I had known in the UK, but unlike the UK, accepted children into grade one at 6 years old and there they stayed until grade seven, whatever age they became! The pupils took an assessment test at the end of each grade and if they failed to pass it they stayed behind and did not move up to the next grade. I was given a grade 6 class. Forty five pupils, nine different nationalities, aged between 10 and 16 years old. I suddenly realised it was a long way from the first class I taught when I qualified three years earlier, in a village school with 8 pupils!

You may find it interesting to know that the majority of Zambian children in the 1970's left school at the end of grade 7. Over 70 per cent never went on to high school to complete their education, and many of those who did succeed in reaching secondary school, never completed it.

Images found on the Internet... it is amazing what you can find!

My class was one of four grade 6 classes, situated together on the raised platform facing the main gate. After three months I was promoted to "team leader" of grade 6. Promotion at last, thought I, but what it actually meant was that I became the person responsible for the education of the pupils in grade 6. When other grade 6 teachers we absent it was my responsibility to cover their class as well as my own. This resulted in one mad week about 15 months after I had started at the school.

I arrived at the school about 6:45am one warm Monday morning in November to be told one of my team had gone "on tour". (Actually, this meant he had been taken into the army!!) I was informed his replacement would be in the following Monday. OK, so I was one team player down, but I had dealt with this before, 90 pupils to educate, 90 books to mark, I could do this for a week.

Whilst I was still getting prepared for the day and two classes, I saw the Principal walking across the square. He did not look happy. I wondered what could be causing his despondency. I soon found out! The other two teachers in the team had called in sick – I was the only teacher for approximately 180 pupils!

Before I had time to recover from the shock, the kids in my class began to arrive. School started at 7:30 am with PE or assembly, before the day became too hot. This particular Monday morning it was grade 6's turn for assembly. I organised several of the older boys and girls in my class to round up the other three classes and take them onto the courtyard where they would be met by the Principal, before filing quietly into the school hall where the assembly took place. I had agreed with the Principal that I could miss the assembly, which gave me 20 more minutes to sort out my brain and the chaos! Zambian education in the early 70's was extremely regimented. Every child throughout the country had the same lesson at the time.

The building here is the the school hall - used by both the infant and junior schools.

Four main subjects had to be taught: English, mathematics, science and social studies. After that it was up to the individual teacher. I used the 20 minutes to write up the lesson and the pages to be studied on each of the four black boards in the classrooms. When the children returned, I left my own class working whilst I dashed to the first room of the four. I introduced the lesson and set them working, then dashed to the next room, and finally the last one. By the time I had done this it was time to change subject! So off I went again, scooting between the four rooms, writing up the task and explaining, as quickly as possible, what they were to do! During my entire teaching career I have never worked as hard as I did that week. One of the sick team members returned on the Friday, easing the pressure a little. None of this would have been possible if it hadn’t been for the behaviour of the children. They were impeccably behaved, the older ones taking on the responsibility for the younger ones. Could I have survived a week like this in the UK? Definitely not!

I enjoyed every minute of my time in Zambia, but there was certain days in the school I dreaded. They were the "Royal" visits. Not the HRH type Royals, but the African Royals, and other "VIP" visitors. The school was situated about 300 yards from the end of Independence Avenue, a long road on which the President's house was situated. Whenever KK, (as in Kenneth Kaunda,) had a visitor, the whole school had to turn out and stand alongside the road to wave a flag. The flags for the country in question would arrive at school in a Government van. Being opposite the main gate, my heart would sink when I saw the van arrive, knowing what the rest of the day would entail. Each class had a certain tree to stand under, Grade 6S marked on a tree with yellow paint - I kid you not. We were meant to be in our positions from early morning even if the visitor was not due until later in the day. This always caused me anxiety. It was hot for 9 months of the year, and some of my children were white expatriates. I always had sun cream in my drawer at school, ready for all eventualities, and tried to make sure the children were protected. Even under the trees the fierceness of the sun could burn. But what worried me more was the lack of water. We are talking 1970's here and the arrangements made for the children by the school, or government, were non-existent.

The school also had a family of albinos. These poor Zambian children, pure white in colour, white curly hair and white eyes, were made to join us. The teachers, led by the oldest expatriate member, a fiery Scottish lady named Jean, kept old sheets in our storerooms, which we took with us and tried to fashion shelters to provide some further protection. I stood under my tree with my 45 pupils, on ten separate occasions, and only once did I see anyone famous enough for me to know! In 1976, Indira Gandhi visited Lusaka. As her cavalcade began to drive past, we all waved our flags enthusiastically. Luckily, she was one of the early morning visitors and we still had the energy! I had one little Indian boy in my class. I first became aware he had come to stand beside me when I felt a gentle tug on my skirt. I looked down at this diminutive 9 year old, with enormous brown eyes, and he asked me if I thought "his" Prime Minister would see him? As her car came level with my designated tree, he raised his hand in a salute. She looked directly at him and blew him a kiss. He was ecstatic, didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He jumped up and down on the sandy sidewalk, throwing his fists in the air. As we made the return trip to the school he danced and skipped, even receiving a rebuke from one of the other teachers. As you can imagine he talked about nothing else for weeks.

I found that the school is still there, at the bottom of Independence Avenue.

Part 2 next week - An Art Exhibition and The Smoke that thunders!

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Updated: 01:11 PM GMT on mai 22, 2012

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Travel with Sandi - Part Five - the Appendix

Posted by: sandiquiz, 05:09 PM GMT on aprilie 29, 2012

The extra bits….A few days ago, I was going through the photos I took four weeks ago when I was on holiday in the Yorkshire Dales, and I came across several that deserved an airing.So, to complete the journals, here are the last photos with a brief blurb about each.The fog was very pretty, as well as annoying! I took this shot on my way to the cattery. Luckily the early fog gave way to some wonderful clear skies. This shot just made me laugh. I presumed these we...

Updated: 05:25 PM GMT on aprilie 29, 2012

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Travel with Sandi - Part Four

Posted by: sandiquiz, 04:33 PM GMT on aprilie 18, 2012

Part 4I awoke on the third and final day to a white wonderland. The sun rose from behind the trees, its warmth slowly melting the frost as it crawled across the fields. After breakfast I collected my camera and then walked out to find Oscar covered in ice!!The moors and Whitby were my destination. I left the B & B behind and headed out east, towards the coast. I had a choice of three routes. Would I head north and then south east, due east, or south and then no...

Updated: 08:36 PM GMT on aprilie 18, 2012

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Travel with Sandi - Part Three

Posted by: sandiquiz, 11:44 AM GMT on aprilie 07, 2012

Part Three Part two ended with me in a quaint old pub in the dales eating delectable sandwiches with ice cold beer! After my late lunch I wandered around the little village taking the odd photo or two before I left the dales and headed towards a very special place in my history.Enjoying the sun Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full!One for the master, one for the dame,And one for the little boy who lives down the lane.On the way ...

Updated: 07:50 AM GMT on aprilie 08, 2012

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Travel with Sandi -Parts 1 & 2

Posted by: sandiquiz, 03:05 PM GMT on martie 31, 2012

As many of you know I have been out and about again – this time to the wilds of North Yorkshire. My travelling companion was my little orange car - hence forth known as Oscar! The weather the day before my intended departure was foggy. Not a good sign for a long journey but I hoped the following morning would be clear, at least enough to make the drive safe. By 9am all was packed into the car except the cat! He knew something was happening and kept looking at m...

Updated: 07:58 PM GMT on aprilie 01, 2012

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About sandiquiz

I have been a WU member since September 2005. Now a retired teacher, enjoying my garden, writing, sketching, taking photos, and having great fun!

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