Thursday, 5 June 2014

Education Part 4


 
This is my fourth consecutive blog on education and I realise that I’m running the risk of boring you – so I promise this will be the last one on education for a while.  This blog has been a while in the writing and I’ve struggled to get the balance right.  I’ve decided to stop tinkering and publish – but this version is possibly a bit on the harsh side, and maybe you should bear I mind that I might just be in a bit of a grumpy mood!

A few weeks ago, a VSO colleague asked Jane and me for some comments about education, so that she could include them in her blog (she takes blogging a bit more seriously than I do).  Of course we had to qualify our comments by pointing out that they are based on our work in just one District in the Upper East Region; and that we have only had the opportunity to visit a small number of the 115 schools in the District.  So it really is a very small sample.  We do also know that educational standards are lower in rural regions than in urban centres.  It is also possible that attitudes are more traditional and less progressive in rural areas and in places where the population is sparce – both of which apply to Zebilla.  Nevertheless, we do think that a lot of our experience is likely to be common at least to the more rural parts of the country.  This is what we sent her:

“Question 1 – What’s wrong with education in Ghana?

Ghana offers universal, free basic education to all its citizens and deserves huge praise for this – it is more than many countries manage.  (Basic education means up to BECE – very roughly the equivalent of GCSE.)  Nevertheless, the short answer to this question is “almost everything”.

·        Many children do not even go to school.

o   Paul estimates that in Bawku West District 20% of all children do not attend school at all.

o   Fewer than 50% of children take the BECE exam, so leave school with no recognised qualification.

o   Only 20 - 25% attend Senior High School.

o   A good-news story is that in kindergarten and primary school, roughly 50% of pupils are girls.  However, there is less gender equality in the higher classes – less than 45% of the pupils who take BECE are girls, and only 40% of pupils at Senior High School are girls.

·        The schools are over-crowded and poorly equipped. 

o   Many kindergarten and primary classes have 50 – 70 children (and some have over 100) in classrooms which would be comfortable for 40. 

o   In some schools, classes take place under trees (to give some protection from the powerful sun) because there are not enough classrooms.

o   About a third of the schools in our district have inadequate toilet facilities.  Most have no running water (water is brought in buckets from local boreholes), and no electricity.

o   Most classrooms only have a blackboard – compared to a UK classroom with its bright displays, projector, smartboard etc, here there is no high-tech equipment at all, there are no pictures on the walls, no books, no toys for the youngest pupils or learning materials beyond, sometimes (and certainly not universally) the most basic (eg stones or bottle tops for counting).

o   Almost all schools are short of textbooks.  Recently government has provided more English, maths, science and ICT textbooks but these have not been enough even for 1 between 2 in most schools, and considerably less than this in some.

o   Apart from textbooks, there are almost no other books at all anywhere in schools.

o   Recently the government has been able to provide laptops for some (but not all) Junior High Schools – typically there will be one computer for 4 to 5 pupils, with software such as Word 2003, Excel 2003.

·        There are not enough teachers.

o   Another reason why classes are so over-crowded is that there are not enough teachers.

o   Fewer than half the teachers in Bawku West District are fully trained; most of the others are only qualified to the equivalent of A-level.

o   Teaching is not well paid – many teachers also have other work, which means that even if they are enthusiastic and committed they have to devote some of their energy to another job.

o   Teachers have very few resources – in the main they don’t have access to the internet to find up-to-date teaching materials and ideas for stimulating lessons, and they have to improvise equipment (for example making measuring cylinders out of old plastic bottles in science).

o   Teachers are not well respected in the community and even though some teachers are enthusiastic and committed, there is a serious lack of professionalism overall.

·        There is very limited provision for children with disabilities.

o   There are special schools for deaf and blind children but these are often a long way from where the children live, so they have to board away from their families with no chance of a trip home or a visit from their parents.  Many deaf and blind children don’t go to school at all.

o   There are a few day schools for children with other disabilities, but most of the children who would benefit from these live too far away to be able to attend.

o   Although it is Ghana’s policy to include children with “mild to moderate disabilities” in mainstream schools, in practice the schools are not equipped to cope with them and the teachers are not adequately trained (and couldn’t give them the attention they need in such large classes).  There are no classroom assistants to help.

Question 2 – What does this have to do with poverty?

·        The lack of school buildings, textbooks, and learning materials clearly reflects Ghana’s relative lack of money as a nation.

·        Likewise the low rate of pay for teachers, the shortage of teachers, the lack of infrastructure for children with disabilities etc.

·        Even though education is “free”, families still have to provide quite a lot for their children at school (uniform, exercise books, pens etc) and whilst the sums involved are small by UK standards, they are often more than families here can afford.  Most families are short of money most of the time.

·        But on top of that, Ghana’s population is largely uneducated and there isn’t a history or tradition of valuing education, or seeing schooling as one of the highest priorities for a family’s children.  This is more a case of “educational poverty” than simply being short of money.

·        At the moment, Ghana’s economy is not strong enough for people to see a good education leading through to a well-paid job.

Question 3 – What do you think the solutions are?

There are no quick or easy solutions to these problems.  Obviously, Ghana needs a lot more money to be able to run a better education system, and so it needs to grow its economy to the point where it can afford this.  Ghana also needs to learn from other countries, both by receiving help from volunteers like us, and also by sending its own teachers to see what education is like in more developed countries.  We know of some teachers and head teachers who have been to the UK on educational visits, and some of them come back inspired to do things differently and can make real improvements in their schools.  Of course, it’s a huge challenge to improve the education system of a whole nation – but every little helps.  Ghana is a very positive country with what seems to be a soundly-based democracy, so there is hope that they can sustain their country as the long, slow process of development continues.  Without ongoing development support from countries like the UK, progress will be much more uncertain and inevitably slower.

Question 4 – How do the projects we are working on help?

Jane’s work is specifically about children with special needs – disabilities of various types.  Ghana has good policies in this area but the implementation is almost non-existent and awareness of the policies is low.  Many families with a disabled child are ashamed and stigmatized, and they keep the child out of the public view.  Any work that raises awareness, overcomes stigma, and helps individual children is obviously valuable and can be absolutely life-transforming for a small number – but it is only a drop in an ocean.  The volunteer who was working here last year probably achieved that sort of change for two or three children.  If I can do the same I will be very proud, but it won’t be enough.

Paul’s work is about the organization and management of education.  Ultimately this is about ensuring that as much as possible is achieved with the resources available, and that there are robust and realistic plans for improvement in the future.  There is plenty to achieve in this area and as a volunteer I can see that there is scope for me to help the Ghana Education Service provide a better education for thousands of children just in this District.  At times the task does seem daunting – but there is lots of scope to make a real and lasting difference.”

That’s the end of our reply.  It will be interesting to see if any of it eventually appears in the ether.

Over the past month some work I have been doing on the age of school pupils has been slowly maturing.  It isn’t complete yet but the emerging trends are now clear I think, and it isn’t exactly what I was expecting.  The main points are:

·        It seems that between 80% and 90% of all children aged 3 – 19 are enrolled in “basic school”.  I was expecting a figure in the range 50% - 60%, so this is quite a surprise; the main reason for this is that I had misunderstood the child population figures for Bawku West District.  “Basic school”, you will recall, is that part of Ghana’s education which is “universal, compulsory and free”.  It is aimed at children aged 4 – 14, and culminates in the BECE exam (which is a bit like GCSE and is taken at the end of the third year in Junior High School, in theory at age 14);

·        There is no under-representation of girls in the system except that:

o   Only 45% of the pupils in JHS3 (the pupils who sit the BECE exam) are girls; and

o   There are fewer girls than boys aged 17, 18 and 19 in basic school (and there are also fewer girls than boys in Senior High School, which is intended for pupils aged 15 to 17 – approximately 40% of SHS pupils are girls);

·        Most of the children entering education in KG1 (over 80%) are the “correct” age – 4 or 5.  But in the subsequent Primary School classes the proportion of pupils who are the correct age gets smaller and smaller – 50% in Primary 3 (age 8 – 9 in theory) and 30% in Primary 6 (age 11 – 12 in theory);

·        At age 12 – 13, when in theory pupils should have entered Junior High School, fewer than 5% have actually done so, and a few percent are still in Kindergarten!;

·        There are substantial numbers of pupils aged 15 – 19 (and older) still in Primary School, and very large proportions of pupils aged over 14 still in Junior High School.

I’m still making up my mind what I think of this.  On the one hand, I am very encouraged to find a larger proportion of children attending school than I previously thought.  Eighty to ninety percent enrolment still means that one or two children in every ten are missing out on education, but to be honest I think any developing country would be very proud of those figures.

On the other hand, it’s clear that a lot of young people are only receiving a very rudimentary education if they never progress beyond Primary School.  Also, I suspect that pupils of genuine Primary School age suffer a significant educational detriment as a result of there being large numbers of much older children in their classes; to say nothing of gaining quite the wrong expectations about the education they should be receiving when they are 15 – 19.

I still haven’t got to the bottom of why there are so many pupils who are “too old” for their class.  If they enter school at the right age, why don’t they progress?  It is part of the system here that a pupil only progresses to the next class if he/she has reached an adequate standard in the previous class.  However the data I have seen on this suggests that only small numbers of pupils repeat a year.

I do also need to say a couple of words of caution about the data. 

The honest truth is that very few people in Ghana know their actual date of birth.  Birthdays are not celebrated.  There doesn’t seem to be a meaningful process for registering births, so there is a lack of official records, and date of birth doesn’t seem to be regarded as an important piece of information.  Consequently, when parents are asked for their child’s date of birth (which, will either be when they come to register their child for a Health Insurance Card, or when they first enrol at school), they and the official who needs the information will “agree” on a realistic-seeming date.  That will then become the child’s official date of birth and birthday.  There does seem to be a need for consistency in official dates of birth, and problems arise when a person discovers that their parents “agreed” one date for school enrolment and a different one for the health insurance card.   First note of caution: the dates of birth quoted might be wrong.

I’m also not entirely convinced that all head teachers, who are the source of my data, have deployed the desirable degree of thoroughness in supplying it.  Some have recorded that the year of birth (which is what I asked for) is unknown in up to a third of cases; others seem to know them all.  Some appear to have worked out that all the children in, say, P1, should have been born in 2007 or 2008 and recorded them all in those years; others report that they have P1 children born in every year between 2000 and 2010.  It’s possible that all these data are totally accurate, but they seem strangely inconsistent to me and I’m considering trying to get a look at some registers to check up on the more unlikely-looking ones!  Second note of caution: I might be working with a high proportion of garbage data.

I’ll post more information about this if anything meaningful emerges during the rest of my placement.  I’m hoping to encourage the Ghana Education Service to form an opinion about whether they are happy with the current situation, and if not, what they think they can do about it.  It’s an interesting question whether they are aware of it already, and the answer is “yes and no”.  When I report to senior GES people that I have discovered there are lots of pupils in Primary School who are way too old to be there, they reply that of course they know that already and they launch straight into explanations of why it happens and factors that justify it (or make it inevitable).  But they don’t have a quantified understanding of the phenomenon and it seems to be a surprise that the proportions of over-age pupils are as high as my figures indicate, or that the numbers of really old pupils (19+) who are still in Primary School really are that big.

There are two things that we didn’t write in our reply, and which aren’t easy to put into words without sounding seriously negative and politically incorrect.

The first is that the whole set of culture and attitudes surrounding children just isn’t conducive to a decent, successful education system.  The teachers are part of Ghana’s culture and seem to have these cultural attitudes.  To be brutally honest, as long as that continues, education is going to be poor.  The second is that compared to the UK, many teachers here almost totally lack what we would regard as professionalism.

Expanding on the first of these points, I’d say that it would be easy for a casual observer to think that Ghanaian children enjoy the idyllic childhood which people of my age perhaps think we used to have in the UK and have lost.  Ghana is a safe place for children.  They get up in the morning and they are free to be children all day until they go to bed.  There is no molly-coddling of any sort, the weather is splendid virtually all the time, there is nearly no traffic, nobody seems to have heard of or worry about paedophiles, there are no gun or machete-wielding madmen who massacre children and teachers in school, there’s no TV or computer games to stop them from playing out (though TV is arriving…).  Parents don’t generally both work, so there is no system of farming children out to child-minders; and working parents generally haven’t commuted more than a mile or so to their place of work, so they can be got hold of quickly if needed (though quite a lot of parents work a long way away and are absent during the week or sometimes for longer).  And in the community, the extended family system and the fact that there is very little population mobility means that wherever a child is, even one who can barely toddle, there will be an adult who knows roughly who they are and where they belong.  What could be more wholesome?

All the above is true.  But the other side of the coin is that this is a world where family planning isn’t much more than a theoretical concept (and one that many people haven’t heard of); where fathers take very little notice of their children and mothers don’t seem to have either the time or the inclination to nurture them; where there are more polygamous marriages than monogamous ones (which I think helps fuel Ghana’s rate of population increase at over 2.5%); where children are generally regarded positively in the sense of being a useful asset as a worker (and male children as someone to inherit the estate); where child labour is rife (absolutely huge numbers of children are engaged in economic activities of some sort, even if it is “only” selling at the market); where male offspring are valued more highly than female; where, apparently, many mothers don’t cook on market days (every third day in Zebilla) so the children go hungry that day; where laws about physical punishment are ignored by most people, where nobody would dream of reporting someone to the police for mercilessly beating their offspring (or pupil), and where the police don’t do anything either to enforce the law generally or in response to the non-existent complaints… and I could go on.   

In the cultural pecking order, children are at the bottom.  In certain circumstances they come below the family’s animals.  They should be seen and not heard, they must do what they are told or face a beating, they are required to “respect” adults to the extent that, for example, when we show up at school carrying any sort of bag there is a crowd of children offering to carry it for us (and the general rule is that one of them will be taken up on the offer).  It isn’t a country where I could say that children are loved, or respected, or nurtured, or particularly well cared-for.  From my own observations, they certainly aren’t seen as the family’s and the society’s most valuable treasures. 

This translates into a total lack of what a UK teacher would recognise as child-centred education.  At school, children are punished for their misdoings but not praised for their achievements.  They are expected to make the best of a standard “chalk and talk” style of teaching with no account taken of their individual learning style or learning needs.  It is difficult for them to tell their teacher that they don’t understand something, as it risks being taken either as an admission of stupidity (meaning that they are not worth another attempt at explanation) or as implied criticism of the teacher – which would display a serious lack of respect..  Nobody asks whether the children are happy at school, or like school, or would do better if school was different – these are thoughts that seem totally alien to the culture here.  Of course,  if they were asked, the children would say that they like school just the way it is – because to say anything different would be to imply criticism of their elders and betters and thus highly disrespectful.

Expanding on teacher professionalism, obviously there’s a bit of an overlap with what I have written above, but it goes further.  Many teachers consider themselves to be underpaid and under-valued.  Consequently they seem to work grudgingly.  They don’t seem to feel under any particular pressure to turn up at school on time or every day; when they have turned up, they don’t seem necessarily inclined to do any teaching; and if they do teach, they don’t seem to want to plan their lessons well or evaluate the outcome, or ask themselves whether they are doing a good enough job, how they could do better, how they could contribute to a better educational outcome for their pupils.  They see nothing wrong with carrying out other business activities during school hours, and if some personal matter comes up (the most usual being a family funeral – there are loads of these because families are so extended) then it automatically takes precedence over school.  The same malaise affects head teachers and not unreasonably, the teachers follow the head teachers’ lead (I have found a clear statistical correlation between attendance levels of teachers and the attendance rate or their head teacher).

Now, there are conscientious teachers and head teachers in Ghana and we have met some, and it is wrong to tar them all with this brush, or to paint them all the same shade of abysmal.  It is also fair to point out that the standard of teacher training in Ghana seems to be quite poor, with trainee teachers emerging from college with a pretty inadequate understanding of what the job should be all about.  And it is fair to accuse the Ghana Education Service, which is the body that is in charge of the delivery of education, in compliance with the policies set down by the Ministry of Education, of having no vision and no deep understanding of education. 

The GES is also guilty of treating teachers in a highly peremptory fashion.  Their record of paying teachers on time is not good (though, to be fair, this is perhaps more of a Government of Ghana problem than GES).  But another example is that, over the Easter holidays, the GES in our district redeployed some 75 teachers - almost 10% of all teachers – to different schools in response to a directive from Headquarters.  There was no forewarning or consultation, no explanation of why the moves were needed, no asking for volunteers, and not even individual communication with the teachers affected.  All that happened was that a list of teacher deployments was put on the notice-board outside the GES office, and teachers were expected to know miraculously that it was there and consult it.  Nobody in the management here sees anything wrong with that – but obviously to western eyes it’s far from satisfactory.  

Ghana also seems to suffer from not knowing what good education looks like, and thus having no meaningful yardstick against which to measure its own achievements.  It lacks awareness of its own shortcomings and it lacks the inclination to search for them in order to improve.

So there are reasons to explain why teaching here is not as good as it needs to be – unfortunately those excuses don’t make the teaching any better. 

In summary, Ghana’s children don’t experience any education during a lot of the time they spend at school; when they are being taught, it’s in an unimaginative way which, for example, emphasises rote learning of facts rather than the acquisition of problem-solving skills (though even then, it manages to neglect the facts that they should learn (times tables and number bonds to 10 to quote a couple of obvious ones)); and there is nothing in their experience of education which could be expected to fire them with enthusiasm or a desire to learn, or find out where their potential lies and how to fulfill it, or have confidence in their ability to achieve great things. 

Perhaps the last word, though, should be that even the poor education on offer in Ghana is much, much better than nothing.  Ghana is on the journey, and there are signs of progress, particularly in terms of enrolment levels and female participation in education.  The next generation will mainly have parents who went to school, which might make a big difference.  Ghana needs our ongoing encouragement and support as they continue along the road.

 

 

 

No comments:

Post a Comment