Pay It Forward

If I’ve learned one thing on this internship, it has been compassion and kindness.

It still boggles my mind is that, who I now refer to as my Mombasa mama, has welcomed a complete stranger into her home for 8 months and continues to look out for my well-being.  She has introduced me to amazing people who are now good friends and she has shown nothing but selflessness in getting me adjusted to Mombasa life.

I was recently very sick and even hospitalized.  While the staff could have learned a thing or two about bedside manner, I was shocked when not only my entire office came by to see how I was, but also members of the board, and friends and neighbours.  It was an overwhelming experience for me, and I wondered how many colleagues, neighbours, and friends would visit me in the hospital back in Canada if I were only admitted for a day or two.

The care and concern for someone they had only met four months ago was baffling to me.  They sat and waited for word from the doctor, they yelled at nurses and hospital staff, they brought flowers and food, they brought their kind words.

All I know how to repay them for these acts of kindness is to pay it forward, and spread the word to others to do the same.   In our society we’re too locked into our own personal lives that we barely know our neighbours. And we usually don’t like hanging around our co-workers once the work day has ended. 

I know I will come home with a renewed sense of compassion for the people around me – even if they are strangers.

'Til I Am Myself Again

Well it’s been a crazy few weeks and I’m writing now that I feel I’ve finally got both feet back on the ground. 

 

First off, I was swept away to the vacation destination of Watamu, on the North Coast, by my fabulous cousin.  I survived my first scuba diving experience, hiked in the last remaining coastal forest in Kenya, toured Swahili ruins, floated in the surreal underwater playground of Watamu National Marine Park, and ate glorious food.

Here are some fishies I saw! (Again not my own pictures-all credit goes to Google):

Angel Fish

Eel

Surgeon Fish

Lion Fish

Parrot Fish

Shortly thereafter I returned to work only to find myself on the side of the road in the hot sun, awaiting rescue after the MRC vehicle broke down.  And then, the rescue matatu taking me home also broke down.  Turned out to be an even luckier next day when I came down with malaria whilst awaiting my 5 am flight to Nairobi to process my work visa. Enter one of the longest days of my life, which we won’t dwell on.  With bad luck running out, I discovered it was a less severe case of malaria, and then I found myself in the comfort of a blissful +15 degree climate (compared to +40), snuggled on a couch, watching ‘the X Factor’ on cable T.V.   

I  was in  heaven. 

Once feeling able to walk (slowly), we got to check out the Nairobi National Museum and other sights.   The best parts of the trip (other than the couch and the fact that I could comfortably wear jeans and a sweater) were the Elephant Orphanage and the Giraffe Centre.  Being in a state of delirium and general dizziness, I didn’t quite catch the details on the Elephant Orphanage, but here are some pictures:  (Yes these ones I took)

Feeding time!

The little one is 2 weeks old.

A new family.

Elephant cam!

From what I understood, these orphans (as young as 2 weeks, and as old as 2 months) are victims of poachers, animal-human conflict, and climate change.

And here are some giraffes that we got to feed:

Slurp

A kissable face?

Extreme close-up!

I think they are orphaned giraffes, but my brain was pretty cloudy at this point.


Oh and there were tortoises too:

After two more days to re-cooperate, I’m happy to say I’m back to normal, back to reality, back to work, and have two feet firmly planted in Kenya for another 4 months.  Cheers to the halfway mark!

A Typical Day Part 2

So, I thought I’d make this a two-part series, as a typical day just isn’t all that typical for me in my fellowship. Today, which was a whole world apart from yesterday, is such an example.

                I knew today was a ‘field’ day, and after some experience I now know how to be prepared for such voyages. I make sure I take plenty of provisions: food, water, toilet paper, sunscreen, Advil, a fully charged phone and camera, a notebook, and a pen.  You never know when you’ll return, and you never know what you might see. (One day we ran into a green mamba snake – the cousin of the most deadly snake in the world: the black mamba).

Mwambara Primary School
(The preschool is sharing space within the primary building)

               

                  I was prepared also to interview the teacher in order to write a School Profile. I explained what that was last post.  What many people would not be prepared for was to suddenly find themselves single-handedly taking over an entire preschool while the teacher attended a meeting.

                Only one teacher was present upon our arrival. Many of you (especially teachers) will gasp when I tell you that she was managing a class of 64 students –somehow, all at once.  So imagine, 64 kindergartners (from about 3-5 years old) all staring wide-eyed at me as I introduced myself as their substitute teacher for the day.  How was I?  I was excited, full of ideas, and ready to go.

The teacher had them in three groups, working on a puzzle of pictures of fruit.  I could see fruit was the theme of the day.  I set to work, going from group to group to see if they could identify the fruit in English.  Their puzzle skills weren’t on par, but we managed to work on ‘banana’, ‘tomato’, ‘pineapple’, and ‘mango’ among others.  Things were going well as they stayed in their groups, but a few minutes after the teacher left, the groups became less distinct and kids just kind of piled onto me. 

Figuring out the puzzle.

Learning from my visits to other schools and from my previous experience teaching kindergarten, I changed the game plan and grabbed some picture books. “One two, make a circle” is the mantra for Kenyan kindergartners if you must know.  Like magic, the kids were shouting the mantra, gathering around me, and sitting down. 

Reading a story book in Kwale District, Mombasa can be hot and tiring. Kids were sitting down at one point, but next thing I know they are piling onto me again - each trying to get closer, either to me or to the pictures in the book, we’ll never know.  I’m sweating buckets, I’m trying my best to keep them seated, and all the while reading the story as best I can to show everyone the pictures. 

With story time over, the mantra comes in handy yet again. “One, two” is all I have to say. “Make a circle,” they reply.   I am attempting to get the kids, all 64 of them, in a large circle standing up around the classroom.  It’s as difficult as it sounds. I think about 15 minutes later, we were ready for song time.  Knowing that the hokey pokey would take hours to teach them, I threw out “Happy and You Know It” hoping they were happy, and that they did know it.  Success.  I then tried my all-time favourite song I used in China: “Hello Hello How Are You”.   Before you know it we’re singing “This is the Way I Brush My Teeth”.

I was lucky.  I had a super-star assistant next to me who knew most of the songs and sang them loud and clear, leading her fellow pupils along. Once I ran out of ideas, and I glanced around the classroom with that almost panic of “Ok what’s next?”   My lovely assistant  whispered something into my ear.  Unfortunately, not being fluent in Kiswahili, I had no idea what she was saying.  But I had a feeling it was song related. I urged her in English to go for it, to sing her heart out.  And she did, after I managed to charade the message out.  She led the whole class into a round of Kiswahili Kindergarten songs.

The singing was over, and the teacher was still away. Ok, blackboard time.  Let’s talk about fruit.  I put my artistic skills to the test and drew some fruit. If you can tell me how a papaya and a mango, or a apple and tomato differentiate in appearance -  please do tell.  Otherwise, the kids seemed to figure it out.  We identified the fruit and counted out loud.  We did this for what felt like ten minutes, and then I was lost for more ideas, hoping that the teacher would stick her head in the door.  She didn’t.  But then something amazing happened...

 The children grabbed their notebooks and pencils, and sat quietly in front of the blackboard, studying it.  I watched them for a while. They were copying down my hopelessly creative blackboard renditions of mangoes and apples, and writing down the words ‘apple’ and ‘mango’ as well as the number of mangoes and apples they could see. 

Copying down our fruit work.

                

I can't get over how well they behaved.

                   

    

            Afterwards, they came to me, one by one, gallantly presenting their work and seeking approval.  I made sure they could repeat the words as I pointed to them and count all of the apples, oranges, and papayas.   After saying “nzuri sana” (very good) for what felt like a million times and losing a few more litres of sweat, I finished up my day as Teacher Kristy at Mwambara Preschool.

How many apples are there?

Group Shot!
(Left: teacher; Upper Left: Head Teacher and School Committee Chief)

A Typical Day

           A good friend of mine enthusiastically recommended I write about a typical day here at the Madrasa Resource Centre.  First off, I’m amazed at how interested you are, my friend - and thanks for idea as I was running low on them. Secondly, remember I do have an office job and I think the honeymoon stage has faded away after three months of being here.  So... just a warning that my life isn’t always filled with monkeys, bumpy field trips in the countryside, or singing the hokey pokey. (I only wish!)

 I searched around in my brain to find a few examples of a ‘typical’ day. Not every day is the same – and I often come to the office not knowing what to expect.   Today, for example is an ‘office’ day. With no field trips or major meetings going on, we usually stay in the office and catch up on writing reports. I also take advantage of this time to check email, read the local news, snoop on Facebook to keep in the loop with friends and family, and drink coffee.

The office I share with another colleague who works closely with School Committee Members.

       
         
           My alarm wakes me up at 5:30 most mornings.  I slowly crawl out of my mosquito net, throw on my running gear, grab my mp3 player, and head out the door with who is now known as my ‘Mombasa mama’- you all know her as Ms.N.  I’m still half-asleep as she careens in and out of potholes and around tuk tuks and matatus.  We arrive at the Mombasa Sports Club, climb out and set off for our morning run/walk for an hour.  When we get home, I have exactly 35 minutes to get ready for work. Then I’m out the door to jump into my mama’s friend’s car – who is now becoming my ‘auntie’ – and we careen in and out of potholes, around tuk tuks, and almost get T-boned by several matatus before I jump out in front of our office.

Tuk tuk

           A quick ‘jambo’ (Greetings) and ‘habari za asubuhi’ (Good morning) to the guard and his posse at the front door, then I climb up the stairs and greet every single person in the office (as per the proper custom) before I finally settle in for the day. Today I am working on a School Profile and a case study on Islamic Integration.  As a Communication and Documentation Fellow, I do a lot of reporting and research on schools. (I’ve also become the official photographer at any kind of event).  A School Profile is a snapshot of a preschool that we work with, complete with pictures and quick facts on enrolment and school fees.  These not only serve as narrative data for internal uses, but also for promotional and informational tools for visitors or potential donors.

            The case study on Islamic Integration is an exciting opportunity for me to learn about diversity and pluralism in rural Kenya, as well as a chance to put my research skills to good use.  Being originally a Muslim organization that provides support to Muslim communities, the Madrasa Resource Centre (MRC) has begun working with communities that are also Christian oriented.  The main point is that MRC works with marginalized Muslim communities and those among who live. There are a few schools in which there is a Christian majority among the students.   While this is of no concern to staff at MRC, there is curiosity from the upper echelons about how schools manage an Islamic-oriented curriculum with Christian students.  (In previous blogs, I explained how core Islamic principles are taught in the madrasa preschools as part of the curriculum. Islamic principles are a main foundation for the preschools that we support).

            My job is to interview School Management Committees and teachers in preschools that are identified as having a substantial amount or majority of Christian students.   The idea is to showcase best practices in managing diversity and pluralism, while also identifying major challenges and any need for further support.  It is a very exciting and interesting topic to be a part of, as religious differences around the world have created so much antagonism, disruption, and violence. But here, in rural Kenya, in a preschool no less, I am witnessing a microcosm of how communities from two different religious affiliations can peacefully coexist.

           One particular school, for example, has only 5% Muslim children enrolled, the rest are Christian.  The School Management Committee (SMC) consists of a 50:50 ratio of Christians to Muslims. When asked about managing diversity, especially with the part of the curriculum that is Islamic-based, a SMC member simply replied: “Religion should not be an issue. Why can’t we integrate two religions together in harmony?”  As it turns out, in this particular preschool, core Islamic principles are put aside and only very broad religious concepts are integrated into the curriculum.  Cross-cutting themes such as prayer, morals, and manners are taught to accommodate both Christian and Muslim students alike.

            Upon finishing my interviews, I am left with the simple yet vital notion that for this community the healthy development of their children trumps any differences, religious or otherwise. It is a great feeling to see a community take ownership of their school and manage it in their own unique and harmonious way.

             Oh and what else do I do on an ‘office day’?  Well if you must know, I’m attempting to reboot the Operating System on my useless Blackberry, uploading pictures from yesterday’s field visit to the internal office network, and checking up on the printer guys to see if the community calendars that I designed are ready to be sent to out. Often, colleagues drop by and throw more tasks at me (e.g. proofreading, attending meetings, or taking more pictures), give me a fly-by Kiswahili lesson, practice sign language with me (we were given an ad-hoc training session last month), ask me for computer help, or just chat and joke about life. This is a prime example of how a working environment can feel like a family.

One day a pigeon stopped by...

Street view from our office - a Hindu Temple

At 5 pm, after a long day of staring at my laptop and attempting to communicate in three different languages (English, Kiswahili, and signing), I say ‘tuonana kesho’ (See you tomorrow) to everyone, hitch a ride with my carpool or take an exhilarating and bumpy tuk tuk to my compound, and settle in for the evening.  It is not advisable to go anywhere once the sun sets, especially alone.  So I stay in, chat about life and eat dinner with my Mombasa mama (usually curry and rice), read a book, reflect, do some stretches or yoga, or throw on some downloaded TV before slipping inside my mosquito net of a cocoon, never really knowing what the next day will bring.

Quiet reflection.

And Now For Something Completely Different

In light of the recent attacks in Nairobi (my heart goes out to the victims and my fellow 'fellows'), I feel like changing course. 

Other than my flat, where I feel very safe, I have a happy place here in Mombasa.  It’s where I forget about everything but the sun, the trees, and the sky.  It’s where I meditate and relax. It’s also where I’ve seen quite a lot of interesting wildlife.

At dawn, about 5 times a week, my host and I drive to the Mombasa Sports Club for our daily dose of exercise and meditation.  We both love it there because we run/walk out in the open, far from any claustrophobic, smelly, noisy gym. We use the cricket field, but we also have an adjoining football field at our disposal.

Apart from watching the sun rise as I do yoga stretches and listen to Bon Iver or Radiohead, I have had some awe-inspiring moments with nature during these runs.  Here are some of the things I’ve encountered on my runs:

(Note: Unfortunately my MP3 player is not also a camera, so I’ll credit Google for the following pictures.)

The morning return of African Fruit Bats:

 The first time I saw this my jaw nearly hit the ground.  In Cambodia, my fiance and I had hoped to watch the nightly migration of bats coming from the old museum in Phnom Penh. We didn't really get our chance, and most mornings I now see this amazing (sometimes nerve wracking) sight of flocks of fruit bats returning from their nightly hunt.

Ewwww

The worst part is that they live in the trees on the sports club grounds, and I often have to run directly under them as they settle in for the day. If it weren't for my music, I can hear their screeching that sends shivers up my spine. 

 During a particularly rainy morning, I almost tripped over an African Giant Land Snail just as I was setting off to run. I had to stop...shake my head...and look back. Yes, that's what I saw, the most ginormous snail I have ever seen. 

It would have been really tragic (and pretty gross) if I had stepped on it.

Most days there has been one or two of these birds, just hanging around and scrounging for food.

I looked it up finally and discovered that it is called a Hadeda Ibis. This kind of excites me because I read a story in grade 7 called "The Scarlet Ibis".  It's a very sad but profound story that I think I'll re-read.

There are thousands of stray cats in Mombasa, especially in my compound. Nightly, usually around 8 p.m - which I call 'the witching hour'- I can hear cat fights which sometimes sound like babies crying.  But one morning I saw a whole litter of stray kittens trying to find their way around the sports club grounds.

Awww.

 On one particular morning run, just as the sun was about to break through the clouds, I felt like I was suddenly on an African safari. I couldn't believe my eyes when a family of Vervet Monkeys ran along the cricket field walls. 

Some even crossed my path as I rounded the corner. I almost quit my run so I could stand and watch them play and climb around for hour.

And I won’t get into the swarms of black crows and flies.

I keep hoping for a chance that a family of elephants will wander past during my run, but the odds of that are very slim. I’ll have to wait until my safari in January.

Capacity Development in Disguise?

This one is dedicated to Dad, who would have 100% approved of my teaching style - no matter how  ridiculous and fun.

In grad school, we learned about the ‘intangibles’ of international community development.  We learned that ‘Capacity Development’, which our entire course and degree was named after,  is an elusive concept that could either be the latest buzz word and ‘new way’ in foreign affairs and humanitarian assistance, or have so many complex definitions that it loses all meaning whatsoever and should be ignored.

To me, and the main reason why I had taken a degree in it, capacity development is simply working with people at the organizational or community level to help bring out their potential and inherent skills, energy, and creativity to work through their own problems.  I would like to think that it is a simple concept to explain -  but it is a difficult and complex one to follow and see come to fruition.  Even in the training seminar for the Aga Khan Fellowship, we had a guest specialist in ‘Capacity Development’ (His definition of Capacity Development is the first mentioned in many scholarly articles) – and he wasn’t so happy with my ‘simple’ definition either.  But I would like to think that I proved him wrong last week.

I had the opportunity to put my English teaching skills to use and plan a 2 hour session with the Madrasa preschool teachers.  With experience teaching 20 somethings at the university level all the way down to the preschool level, I designed an introductory class that included: rules for the class, a discussion, a game, and an activity.  One of my favourite rules that seems to shock all of my students, no matter what age or context, is “Make mistakes”.  This concept came to me after working with Chinese students who are perfectionists at worst – as they refuse to speak unless they feel their pronunciation and sentence structure will be absolutely perfect.  I had to get around this barrier and encourage them to say anything, to utter any sound no matter how garbled or nonsensical.  I even enjoyed conducting an entire 20 minute session on making the ‘th’ sound, going around the room and sticking out my tongue through my teeth, ensuring they did the same. 

Anyway, I’m traveling back in time, and to another continent altogether.  Here in Kenya, at the Madrasa Resource Centre, we were laughing and shouting at each other during a particular competitive game of charades.  By the end of it, they were so excited and animated, they never realized they had spoken in English the entire time.   I pointed this out, and also suggested that they too could play this game with their own students – using pictures of animals, house objects, or every-day things to act out instead of words. 

We also discovered together that I could put my preschool and kindergarten teaching experience to great use.  Last year my job was to basically sing songs and hold up flash cards to teach 3-6 year olds English (following the Chinese curriculum).  All of those songs could be very useful for the Madrasa preschool teachers.  So  I sang with, and taught them “Mr. Sun” and “Hello, Hello, How Are You?” (sung to the tune of Skip to My Lou).  I am currently putting together an English song-book for them.

In fact, during a school visit for teacher support, I found a teacher in quite the predicament.  Her school was still under construction (without a proper floor) and all of her materials were tucked away in storage. She hadn’t planned much for that particular day and only had about 8 students.  After she completed an activity, she looked at me and said “That is all I have for today. What else can I do?”  I totally knew what she was feeling, I have been there... So I jumped up, asked her if the children had learned body parts in English, and began singing the Hokey Pokey .   I think that moment (along with the pictures) speaks for itself...

Note: the fingers in the air whilst doing "turn it all around"
is an imperative part of the process.

So how is capacity development like singing the Hokey Pokey?

Way back in 1^st and 2^nd year university, I studied Lewis Carroll’s works in English Literature.  Carroll was  quite the hermit, and a genius.  He loved riddles, and one in particular sticks in my mind today and remains  un-deciphered in Literature history: “How is a raven like a writing desk”.  According to Carroll, there was never an intended answer, and the purpose of it was to be entirely nonsensical.  I believe he hoped for readers to make up their own, perhaps nonsensical, ideas. 

Capacity development is another riddle entirely, one that I hope to continue deciphering – one that perhaps does not have a concrete answer , but a nonsensical one – such as teaching preschool teachers in marginalized, rural communities the Hokey Pokey.

Then they taught me a Kiswahili song.

Now put that down in your CIDA, UN, or USAID manuals ...

“It’s Too Late” (for us anyway): The Fundamentals of Early Childhood Development and Education

This one goes out to Shafique, who humorously and lyrically reminded us that we’re doomed to be stuck with the cognitive and emotional intelligence we already have.

Today is a ‘field-trip’ day, my favourite kind of day since Kindergarten.  I jump into the white MRC,K van with three other colleagues, including trusty Mr. H, our driver.  We bump and bounce along the dusty, potholed road, careening around tuk tuks , matatus, and pedestrians brave enough to cross the street.  After a half hour or so, we turn down an even more rudimentary  road, one lane wide and packed with red earth.  

The scenery is lush with Palms, Baobabs, and Acacia trees.  Thatched roof, one-room houses dot the landscape.   We stop just past a one-room school house, white walls with a corrugated metal roof, a water pump in front.  “Krist...”  (Mr.H the driver calls me Krist.)  “We have arrived, in the field.” (We have a running joke now, about how I say I love going to ‘the field’, when really we visit schools.)  Laughing about frolicking around in the field with the cows, I take my cue to open the van door and climb out onto the dirt path up to the school.  As my colleagues give their ‘hellos’,  or should I say “Salaam Alaikums” ,to the women outside, I say my ‘hellos’ and get to work as the official MRC,K photographer. 

Water pump at Ummulqura School.

Entrance to Ummulqura School.

Here’s a  brief history on the Madrasa Preschool Programme:

(No thanks to Greg Mortenson and other discredited sources, the word ‘madrasa’ has been given a bad rap.  A ‘madrasa’ is simply a school.  It is not necessarily a breeding ground for the world’s most annihilative terrorists).

The Madrasa Preschool Programme , developed with the support of the Aga Khan Development Network and now funded by a number of bilateral and multilateral donors, began as a community need in the early 80’s.  The Kenyan coast is home to a significantly large population of Muslims.  However the only options for education could be found in the Mosques (for a formal education purely based on the Qur’an) or Christian schools.  Muslim communities found they were not happy sending their children to a Christian school, as it became very confusing for the child to attend Christian school, then Mosque on Saturdays.  They were also not happy with the formal, purely religious, lecture-style education their children would receive in the mosques.  So the madrasas grew out of a local need – apart from most development programmes that are ‘thought up’ by ‘experts’ in a shiny tall building somewhere in Ottawa or Washington D.C. then ‘transferred’ to the local context that the ‘experts’ may or may not have visited or even read about in a newspaper.   (I don’t apologize for sounding so cynical - this is how “development” was actually done in the early 80’s).   And this local need was voiced to the local religious leaders and eventually to His Highness, the Aga Khan himself.  (I’m sorry readers, you may have to Google that one – this blog is already too long).

A holistic and pluralistic Early Childhood Development and Education (ECDE) programme was piloted through the madrasas in 1986.  ECDE focuses on the critical first 8 years of a child’s life (0-8), where the entire foundation of our cognitive, emotional, physical, social, spiritual and moral growth is built.  Hence, those of us who are long past grade 3, are doomed to be as we are. As Shafique, our facilitator from Uganda, says “It’s too late”.  

Now, for us in the Western world, where our children are spoiled to death with free public education and institutions like Montessori schools, where children are graded with shiny stars and smiley faces, where the Ministry of Education continuously finds danger in the playground equipment (Seriously, whatever happened to merry-go-rounds and tire swings?), where the Ministry of Health installs giant hand sanitizer stations on every wall in the schools.... we seriously have no issues with being up and coming with ECDE.  However, in rural Kenya, with thatched one-room houses, roaming cattle, and a lack of basic plumbing – add a per capita GDP of $1,600, an unemployment rate of 40%, malnutrition, and child labour- ECDE is a relatively new undertaking. 

I enter the one-room school house.  The walls are made of concrete, there are wooden beams holding up the ceiling of corrugated metal.  The windows have bars and metal screening.   There are three teachers, and therefore three different classes going on at once.  I can count about 40 children.  Everyone is sitting on the floor, most kids turn to stare at me.  After my experience teaching kindergarten at a private school in China, I figured a classroom of 40 4-7 year olds with three separate classes going on at once plus a strange white lady standing at the doorway would be a recipe for disaster.  I was quite shocked when the lessons went on, unhinged, while some students quietly turned to stare, but continued on with their teacher.  One teacher at one wall was focused on the sounds of the alphabet “aawaa”  “ba ba” “ce ce” “da de” , or something to that effect.  The second lesson on the next wall was focused on the letter ‘f’ and a song about ‘family’. The third wall was occupied by English phrases, such as “The hen has eggs”, and “The cat has a net”.  Each wall had a tiny cut-out of a blackboard.  A few other materials in the classroom reminded me of the ‘model classroom’ we have in the office to show teachers and other visitors.

Practicing the letter 'F' in Ummulqura classroom.

Many of the materials for the classroom are home-made using locally available items – such as corn cobs, bottle caps, used water canisters, and coconut shells -  to promote sustainability.  If everything was bought, such as toys, games, equipment – how can the school sustain itself?  The Madrasa Preschool Programme promotes community ownership and accountability.  The community - including parents, teachers, school committees, political leaders, and elders  -  has to own the school .  They even come together to literally build the school.  The Madrasa Resource Centre, where I work, is simply there to promote ECDE and support the schools.  This is not a hand-out business.

Free playtime in Music Corner with hand-made drums and costumes.
Rahma School.

The Madrasa Preschool curriculum is taught in English, Swahili, and Arabic.  While a holistic education based on active learning, play, numeracy, literacy and creativity is the backbone of the program, so too are the pillars and values of Islamic teachings.  Diversity, humility, prayer, morals, and spirituality are key components of the curriculum.   

Outside playtime at Taqwa Magongo School.

Pretend cooking in Home Corner. Taqwa Magongo School.

An average Madrasa preschool has themed walls or corners:  science, music, home life, health and nutrition, religion, math, language, and creativity.  Outside there is a swing set, slide, and something akin to jungle bars.  There also may be a ‘water play station’ and a ‘sand play station’ – some of us may remember these from preschool or kindergarten.  An average morning at a Madrasa Preschool would go something like this:

Snack time at Taqwa Magongo School.

Arrive: 7:30 am

Language (Usually Arabic or English):  8 – 8:30

Creativity Corner (Drawing, Painting:  8:30-9

Social Corner (Home Life, Diversity): 9-9:30

Outside Play:  9:30-10

Midmorning Snack (Biscuits, bananas, or fried potatoes):  10-10:30

Free Play (Children pick corners to play in): 10:30 -11

Math:  11-11:30

Wrap up and go home:  11:30-12

Another key component of the Madrasa Preschool Curriculum is health and nutrition.  Children learn about hand washing before and after meals, dental hygiene, healthy foods, sanitation (use of a proper toilet and keeping the toilet facilities clean), wearing shoes while in the toilet, having a healthy mid-morning snack, drinking clean water, and wearing shoes while outside.  The health and nutrition programme is a whole other story that cannot be captured in this post. 

Outside play at Taqwa Magongo School.
I can't help but notice they aren't wearing shoes.

After snapping my photos, attempting to sneak a few in while the children are not staring blank-eyed at me, I do what I love best – interacting and playing with the children.  It starts out with a ‘Hello, how are you’ and next thing you know we are making monkey faces, reading the “Three Little Pigs”, and playing make-believe with an empty teapot and teacups.  

"And he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew the house down!"

Pretend tea anyone?

- Which brings me back to Greg  Mortensen. (Insert brilliant metaphor about empty teacups and empty schools in the villages of Pakistan).   Perhaps he should have done a bit more research on what schools or programming already existed and invested his millions into true community development.  He obviously missed out on a holistic, nourishing ECDE experience as a child – sorry Greg it’s just too late.

Heading home. Ummulqura School.

For more information on Kenya’s Madrasa Preschools:

  

http://www.akdn.org/kenya_education.asp