Let Him Learn

Bradley is just five years old growing up in the slums of Kibera. His days are filled with playing with  friends and new acquaintances that he meets almost every new week. This has been going on as long as he can remember. Hide and seek, football or anything that looks like it , running up and down while hopping over trenches and dirt or dodging people to prevent a collision are all part of having fun. At the end of the day Brad, just like his buddies, is so tired and dirty in the evening. It’s always his mother’s cane at hand that gets him to take a shower, or keep his eyes open to eat his dinner.

In the recent months however, Brad has realized that more and more of his agemates are going to school. This means that he remains bored in the neighbourhood as there’s hardly anyone left to play with. He’s asked his mum about it and even told his dad once about it. They asked him to be patient as they’re looking for money so that he can also join school next term. Days are longer and all he can dream of is what really happens in school, especially with the students wearing uniforms and carrying snacks. He’s passed near a few schools in the neighbourhood and hears them singing “eh, Bi, Si...” he hopes he can master the new song fast. He’s also heard them speak like the people he’s seen on the neighbour’s TV. “Yes”, “Okay”, “sir”..

He can’t remember how long it took but finally it happened. He was in brand new school uniform and following his mother to school. They were just past the shops when they met a group of about four girls a little older than him. You’re headed to Jowli School, right? His mother enquired. The girls nodded in unison and Bradley was left under their care as the mother made a u-turn to tend to her house chores.

On arrival at Jowli School, assembly was in session. Bradley stood close to one of the girls and was visibly taken aback by this new environment. The headmaster approached him after the assembly, confirmed his names and directed him to his class.

School wasn’t as rosy as he had hoped. Having arrived later in the second term, Bradley was always left behind academically as most of the concepts had been covered in the first term of school. His teacher didn’t help either. She shouted at him for being stupid and not being able to grasp simple concepts. On one occasion, a popular teacher in the school came to their class and promised that whoever would emerge the best would be given sweets, He then went ahead and asked who’d become number one. All the children raised their hands; and not wanting to be left behind, Bradley hesitantly raised his hand. Her class teacher was furious. Put down your hand you stupid boy, she blurted out. You are always number last in everything.

The classes were made of mud walls, the pit latrines were always crowded and the big boys always knocked the little ones down when they played during break time. You had to ask the teacher in English to go to the toilet. Something like “Please madam mayai go toilet..?” Bradley wasn’t confident enough to face his class-teacher, let alone say those big words. He was left with only one option – let it flow down his pants, and into his shoes when he couldn’t hold it any further. That’s why he always had his sweater around his waist when heading home for lunch or later in the evening. He recalls a day when the big boys were mending the walls of their classrooms with mud. One of them decided that Bradley’s shirt was the perfect spot to wipe his hands, since there was no water, Bradley took this graciously for his anger wouldn’t do much. Bradley never shared his school experience with anyone and couldn’t remember his parents asking him about it.

He recalls being sent home occasionally to bring money. His mother would accompany him with some money, take moments in the head master’s office making promises, and the cycle went on and on. 

Schools had just closed for December holidays and he handed his mother the report form. She was elated. He later understood from her that he performed well – position 14 out of a class of 30! She went out and later came back with a 2-litre bottle of CocaCola and handed it to Bradley as a present. He’d never seen his parents this happy before and speaking in one voice. They told Bradley that he was smart – though hecouldn’t remember whether he was smart like his mum or dad. As for the soda, well, he let his little sister drink most of it. She knew how precious it was and enjoyed every drop of it. From this day forward, Bradley understood that he could conquer education, and the world was his to take.