No child deserves to sit on the floor at school, that is barbaric

The public was right to be outraged by the actions of the owner, builder and competent authorities supervising Precious Talents Top School, now shut, where a structure masquerading as a classroom collapsed, killing eight children and hurting 64.

You don’t have to be an engineer to know that wooden posts can’t take the place of columns in supporting a concrete slab.

And chicken coop wire mesh is not a substitute for steel reinforcement. But to put so many children in such a structure is an act of sheer madness. For the authorities to allow it to happen is too.

However, while it is legitimate to hold planning officials, Education ministry folk and owners of the school to account, what about the teachers who worked in that dangerous environment, the parents who took their children to it and the community around the school which witnessed it daily?

NEGLIGENCE

The Nation has been faithfully reporting and photographing teachers showing off poor children taking classes under trees, sitting on the floor or generally being subjected to the worst kind of hellholes in the name of schools. I have seen pictures of chalkboards with holes in them.

The most outrageous part of the mess is that teachers, parents and the community pretend to be innocent bystanders, that it is someone else’s job to build, equip and supervise the school facilities.

The provision of clean, neat and secure school facilities has little to do with money.

There are many lovely country schools, built by parents with their own hands using very little materials, properly maintained over the years.

Holes on a classroom floor are not caused by the fact that the school can’t afford concrete. They are caused by the negligence of teachers and parents and a culture of dependency which assumes that the job of providing amenities is the government’s.

INFRASTRUCTURE

Why should a child sit on the floor? Let us assume that you live in a far-off, Stone Age village in a remote part of the country.

All you need to make a serviceable bench for a child is two nails, a sharp machete and a tree.

The tree will provide the two wooden pegs, which you drive into the floor, and a sizeable log that you hew into timber and plane with your machete.

You can hammer the timber onto the pegs with a stone. That should take under half an hour.

Thirty years ago, there were few classrooms with a concrete floor. The floors were compacted soil or murram with a top surface of clay mixed with limestone.

The children maintained the floor by watering and sweeping it every morning before classes.

But all this is really unnecessary: we — the community, the government, the local authorities and the public — can afford to build and equip classrooms for every child.

RESPONSIBILITY

As a matter of fact, there was a time when the bulk of schools was harambee or community schools: built by the community and paid for by parents, including the employment of teachers, and managed by locals themselves.

Which brings me to the village teacher with holes in the chalkboard. That thing is a piece of plywood with black paint on it.

Again, it is not very difficult to make. A teacher who uses a defaced board to teach children sitting on the floor in a classroom with holes on the walls damages his pupils.

He shows them to have low personal standards, is an example of dependency and a tendency not to take responsibility for things, and an encouragement to children not to use their gifts to solve problems.

Early in the week, Education Cabinet Secretary George Magoha was not inclined to punish officials from his ministry charged with inspecting schools, including the Precious Talents joke.

The whole area is a mess of low-quality housing. But this shouldn’t be an excuse.

BRIGHT FUTURE

Quality assurance staff have a job to ensure all schools are built and run to standards; and there shouldn’t be two — one for low-income areas and another for the rest of the country.

If we had any sense, we would ensure that schooling provides every child with a fighting chance to make something out of their lives.

The children at Precious Talents most probably get free lunch through the school feeding programme, a mix of boiled maize and beans.

Across town, their counterparts have a choice of oriental, African or European cuisine, from a menu pre-approved by their rich parents, prepared by their own school’s kitchens — with the option to order in fast food from international chains. Others are catered by NAS, which cooks for airlines.

Upcountry, children are taught by a slacker in an untucked shirt and slippers. In the wealthier parts of the city, children are taught by European tutors with degrees from Harvard.

And we are surprised that we are raising generation after generation of young people whose only thought is making money?

If you went to Precious Talents and know the only bridge to the other side of town is money, would you be any different?

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I thank the young lawyer who sent me a copy of the Witchcraft Act, Cap 67. I never knew such a law existed and I am looking forward to reading it. Readers can download it at www.Kenyalaw.org.

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