Schools bursting at the seams, calling disaster by its name

This week, Kenyan parents took leave from helping the taxman plug the budget deficit to join the Form One admission queue at their nearest secondary school.

After battling a health pandemic and its economic child, many expected parents to give up on education and save dwindling reserves to keep their families alive; but Kenyans borrowed survival tips from politicians and chose to die than resign.

We hope our children see the sacrifices parents are making to help the government fight ignorance, even when the government hasn’t reciprocated to help the parents fight poverty and disease.

We wish them well as they settle in school, and we take this earliest opportunity to remind them that crime still doesn’t pay, otherwise parents wouldn’t have had a problem finding money for their school fees.

As parents return home to yawning domestic animals and wailing Kenya Power meters, the things they saw at the Form One admission queue are fresh in their minds.

I don’t know how Education ministry bureaucrats sleep at night after seeing pictures of dormitory beds compressed into each other like chewing gum pellets. 

If boarding school was meant to be a boot camp, the law should be changed to place secondary schools under the Defence ministry, and every Form One asked to come with an Olympic-size swimming pool instead of rubber shoes.

Secondary education is unfortunately beyond the reach of many Kenyans. A select few schools have the right mix of manpower and equipment to guarantee transition to the university. 

It isn’t enough for your child to top their class in the national exams, if you don’t have sufficient financial war chest, your child will join a nearby struggling school and start again from a disadvantaged position.

Need to upgrade infrastructure

When the Jubilee government promised 100 per cent  transition to secondary school, many parents looked up to the heavens and saw God wearing red and yellow.

Nine years on, the school infrastructure has grown weak at the knees, and it isn’t because they’re bowing out of respect to the academic giants using them. 

Every child deserves to go to school regardless of the texture of their palms or the saltiness of their sweat. Staying in school reduces the vulnerability of our children, widens our human resource base and increases their potential in life.

Education is a time-tested equaliser, and any initiative to keep children in school should be supported with both hands. However, there is urgent need to upgrade the infrastructure.

Secondary schools are bursting at the seams, and calling disaster by its name. The national school health guidelines are clear; that boarding facilities must be conducive for the health of those sleeping inside, and our children must not be left to rely on evening prayers for their safety and security.

Teachers are overwhelmed developing schemes of work, racing with the clock on completion of syllabus, and helping our children make friends with good morals. It would be unfair to expect the same teachers to walk with bandages for fixing dormitory wall cracks, and oxygen tanks to prevent students from breathing in turns.

Teachers are also human. We know times are tough and the government would prefer staff who can multitask, but to whom little is given not much should be expected.

Whenever tragedy has struck in the past, ministry officials fight each other to be first on the scene breathing fire and warning all stones to turn themselves before government assists them, only for reports to gather dust after a commission of inquiry has exhausted sitting allowance. 

Parents need their children back home safely, since the government left accountability to accountants and transparency to glass manufacturers.

The writer comments on topical issues; [email protected]