Last Friday, my daughter came home and announced that her weekend assignment required her to make a javelin. You know, that pole that Julius Yego likes to throw up in the air.
But that was not all, by the end of the month, she added, they were expected to have completed carving a musical instrument of their choice. For this, she informed me, she required a sizeable unprocessed block of wood. The things we Competency-Based Curriculum parents go through…
My mind immediately began whirring, and within seconds, I had singled out possible places where I could get these materials. There was a time when such CBC asks filled me with anxiety, dread and genuine amazement. I remember that time when one of the children was asked to take to school a bagful of feathers for some project.
Now, I don’t keep chicken, and there was no way I was burning fuel by driving to my ushago to ‘harvest’ some feathers from my father’s chickens. I also doubted my ability to ensnare the Pied Crows that like flying around where I live. That project really gave me a headache, I tell you, never mind that it wasn’t even mine to do.
Eventually, I managed to find someone selling live chickens by the roadside, and even though I hadn’t planned on buying chicken that day, I had no option but to buy one, since I needed the feathers.
But that was then, nowadays, these CBC demands no longer faze me. Necessity is the mother of invention, therefore I have become an expert at getting the many items in the lists that my children bring home. For instance, for the javelin, (and sand paper to shape the tips) I bought the long stick from one of the local hardwares for 60 shillings, and for the block of wood, I managed to get one for 200 shillings at a lumberyard, even though the search took longer than I expected. And yes, I took my daughter with me, so that she could experience, and therefore appreciate, what it takes to get it all done.
And now that I remember, towards the end of last term, I found myself in Eastleigh during my lunch break, where I had gone to look for an affordable thawb for a school ‘cultural day’. Affordable because it would only be worn for a day, never to see the light of day again. Yet another day found me in River Road looking for beads and ribbons for an art project.
How I wish that schools would ask students for items that they can easily find in both rural and urban environments. This would encourage creativity, ensure 100 per cent input from the students and save parents money. In my day, the only hands-on project I recall doing was sewing flowers on a table cloth, tie and dying a t-shirt using ‘dye’ from flowers and sewing a pajama, which I never managed to finish. This probably explains why the demanding nature of the current school system, which is skills-focused, continues to ‘stress’ many parents. And pupils.
With this in mind, I recall having a hilarious conversation with my niece, who is in Grade two, early this year. I’d visited and found her and her mother making a doll using scraps of clothing. I’d assumed that it was just something to keep her busy until my niece suddenly commented, frustration unmistakable in her voice, “Hii shule imenichokesha…” We all burst out in laughter because she was looking at another 11 years before starting her university education, which would take another four or more years depending on what she chose to study.
