Canzibe Mission, Eastern Cape, South Africa – “You spend so much time with your children stimulating their minds,” Phila said to me one sunny afternoon as I was sitting outside doing a puzzle with Rebecca, our 6-year-old daughter. I didn’t really know how to respond. Phila, who is 22, is a young Xhosa woman who works for 25:40 at the Canzibe Mission helping us to implement our orphan and vulnerable children program.
I just nodded my head in agreement, feeling like she just stated the most obvious thing in the world, but wondering why she would say it in the first place. We started a very long and eye-opening conversation about parenting, youth, and schools in the Eastern Cape of South Africa.
When a baby here is born, his mom cares for him, nurses him, carries him on her back, wrapped tightly against her so that the baby feels warm and
close to his mom. She loves her baby. She cares for her baby. She nurtures him. But I noticed there is very little face time with the child – no games of “This Little Piggy” or “Sooo Big!” Once a child reaches school age, the parents hand over the child to the schools.
Here the elementary and secondary schools are notorious for failing the students in so many ways – not with grades, but with standards. On paydays, teachers don’t show up for school. There is no such thing as direct deposit here and the teachers stand in line at a payout office to receive their checks. If it rains, teachers don’t show up to school because many of them have to walk and it is uncomfortable to walk all that way in the rain.
Administrative meetings and training sessions are scheduled during school hours so a principal and many teachers may be absent from school to attend these faraway meetings. If the teachers do show up, there is very little structure. Often students are unaccompanied in the classroom for hours while the teachers meet in an office for what seems like no reason. If teaching does occur, there are few resources to use. Often the blackboards are worn beyond use, there is no chalk, very few books, not enough paper and pencils for each student. And to top it off, there may be 60 students in one classroom.
But the parents here do not complain about the poor standards. There are no PTA’s raising funds for more books or smaller classroom sizes, or complaining until things improve. This is just the way it is and that is accepted and acceptable here.
I asked Phila if her mom ever read to her or played with her when she was young. And does she do that now with Phila’s younger siblings. She sadly shook her head and quietly said no. “She is very tired,” Phila said, sighing. She talked about how she cannot confide in her mom about anything in her life, especially with boyfriends and questions about how intimate she should be him. Her mom meets the basic needs of their family – shelter, clothes, food – but then that is all. Phila longs for a mom who stimulates, who listens, who nurtures, who sets standards.
Phila has befriended a woman in her life that she calls her aunt. She is a little older than Phila, maybe in her 30s. And she can sit down with this “aunt” and spill out everything that is going in her life, without judgment or disapproval. And this aunt gives her advice that is different than the advice Phila’s friends give her. I thank God for this woman and pray that Phila has chosen a role model in her life that will lead her down the right path.
During our conversation, a little girl named Zimi zoomed over to where we were. Zimi, shown in the picture above, is the youngest daughter of one of the two pre-school teachers at the mission. Even though she is only 3 or 4, can be a bully. Sometimes she does not play nicely with others and grabs and pushes and hits and wants her way at everything. She does not follow instructions and does whatever she wants. I know that her oldest sibling is lost and that at times their household has been chaotic because of abuse.
I just nodded my head in agreement, feeling like she just stated the most obvious thing in the world, but wondering why she would say it in the first place. We started a very long and eye-opening conversation about parenting, youth, and schools in the Eastern Cape of South Africa.
When a baby here is born, his mom cares for him, nurses him, carries him on her back, wrapped tightly against her so that the baby feels warm and
close to his mom. She loves her baby. She cares for her baby. She nurtures him. But I noticed there is very little face time with the child – no games of “This Little Piggy” or “Sooo Big!” Once a child reaches school age, the parents hand over the child to the schools.
Here the elementary and secondary schools are notorious for failing the students in so many ways – not with grades, but with standards. On paydays, teachers don’t show up for school. There is no such thing as direct deposit here and the teachers stand in line at a payout office to receive their checks. If it rains, teachers don’t show up to school because many of them have to walk and it is uncomfortable to walk all that way in the rain.
Administrative meetings and training sessions are scheduled during school hours so a principal and many teachers may be absent from school to attend these faraway meetings. If the teachers do show up, there is very little structure. Often students are unaccompanied in the classroom for hours while the teachers meet in an office for what seems like no reason. If teaching does occur, there are few resources to use. Often the blackboards are worn beyond use, there is no chalk, very few books, not enough paper and pencils for each student. And to top it off, there may be 60 students in one classroom.
But the parents here do not complain about the poor standards. There are no PTA’s raising funds for more books or smaller classroom sizes, or complaining until things improve. This is just the way it is and that is accepted and acceptable here.
I asked Phila if her mom ever read to her or played with her when she was young. And does she do that now with Phila’s younger siblings. She sadly shook her head and quietly said no. “She is very tired,” Phila said, sighing. She talked about how she cannot confide in her mom about anything in her life, especially with boyfriends and questions about how intimate she should be him. Her mom meets the basic needs of their family – shelter, clothes, food – but then that is all. Phila longs for a mom who stimulates, who listens, who nurtures, who sets standards.
Phila has befriended a woman in her life that she calls her aunt. She is a little older than Phila, maybe in her 30s. And she can sit down with this “aunt” and spill out everything that is going in her life, without judgment or disapproval. And this aunt gives her advice that is different than the advice Phila’s friends give her. I thank God for this woman and pray that Phila has chosen a role model in her life that will lead her down the right path.
During our conversation, a little girl named Zimi zoomed over to where we were. Zimi, shown in the picture above, is the youngest daughter of one of the two pre-school teachers at the mission. Even though she is only 3 or 4, can be a bully. Sometimes she does not play nicely with others and grabs and pushes and hits and wants her way at everything. She does not follow instructions and does whatever she wants. I know that her oldest sibling is lost and that at times their household has been chaotic because of abuse.
I called Zimi over and pulled out a very simple book I had brought from the U.S. with three words to a page and only one word is different on each page. I asked her to sit on my lap. It took her awhile to figure out that I wanted her back to me so I could wrap my arms around her and hold a book in front of her. Then we read the book. Phila translated into Xhosa the first time through but then Zimi understood the book and pointed correctly to a new animal on each page. We read the book over and over again. After awhile, Zimi fell asleep on my lap. It was if Zimi’s whole day is spent begging for attention. She is so wound up she doesn’t know how to turn herself off. But with a little positive attention and nurturing, her body and soul can be at peace.
Imagine a preschool classroom full of 20-30 Zimi’s. There are two here at the Canzibe Mission – and only one teacher for each class. 25:40 and the missionaries here – Wikus and Carina van der Walt – are trying to establish a structure for the classrooms, a schedule for the teachers to follow, and a curriculum of sorts for the children to learn basic skills that we believe preschool children should know. And also to impart to these children the stimulation and nurturing that Phila so longed for.
Sometimes I wonder if we will ever achieve this when the Xhosa culture itself does not demand or even understand our efforts. But the children understand – Zimi does, Phila, no longer a child, does. And that’s what matters. If in our work here we can focus on one child at a time and touch her in a way that directs her down the right path and stimulates her enough to stand up and be a leader, then we have succeeded.
- Amy Zacaroli
Imagine a preschool classroom full of 20-30 Zimi’s. There are two here at the Canzibe Mission – and only one teacher for each class. 25:40 and the missionaries here – Wikus and Carina van der Walt – are trying to establish a structure for the classrooms, a schedule for the teachers to follow, and a curriculum of sorts for the children to learn basic skills that we believe preschool children should know. And also to impart to these children the stimulation and nurturing that Phila so longed for.
Sometimes I wonder if we will ever achieve this when the Xhosa culture itself does not demand or even understand our efforts. But the children understand – Zimi does, Phila, no longer a child, does. And that’s what matters. If in our work here we can focus on one child at a time and touch her in a way that directs her down the right path and stimulates her enough to stand up and be a leader, then we have succeeded.
- Amy Zacaroli
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