I’ll begin with an anecdote.
Where is everybody?
At the field.
It’s a Friday. There’s no school?
It’s athletics day.
Ewa (alright).
January 30th was athletics day at Faustinus Haididra Combined School. I walked 400m across Kayengona to the sports field.
Where is everybody?
They’re coming.
Didn’t school start an hour ago?
It was 8am and the temperature was beginning to rise. There’s something special about the African sun. The same light in the sky is somehow more radiant, more present.
I spotted one of my learners, and I’ll admit, she’s one of my favorites. I’ve only been teaching for three weeks, but she stands out as particularly confident and determined to learn. She’s in my eighth grade math and life science classes. This is a wonderful opportunity to get to know my learners better.
Theresa! Morokeni, weni? Can I ask you some questions about yourself?
Morokeni Ms. Walton! Yes, yes you can.
Are you staying in Kayengona?
Yes, I stay at the boarding school at Maria Mwengere (this is the name of Matias’ school that is located right next to mine).
How is it?
It’s alright. I had only two pieces of bread for breakfast this morning. I’m very hungry ma’am.
Only two pieces! But, that’s not enough!
Can you give me food Ms?
I’m sorry. I don’t have any. I can’t.
…
I noticed on my roster you were born in 2006? Are you 20?
Yes.
Did you repeat grades?
In 2023 I was in eighth grade but I got pregnant.
That must have been so difficult.
It was fine!
Oh, is the father nearby?
He’s working in the mines in the South to get money. I didn’t have money to pay for school, so I worked with him for a year before coming back.
That’s amazing. Why did you want to come back to school?
It’s everything. Without it I’ll have nothing.
What do you want to be?
A paramedic.
Do you need to go to university for that?
Yes I do.
Theresa, listen. If you need help in any subject, I’m happy to sit down with you and we can talk about your assignments. You can achieve anything you set your mind to. Just let me know, okay?
Okay, thank you Ms.
I am struggling. I didn’t have any realized expectations about what teaching in rural Namibia would be like, but in some capacity, I guess I expected it to be straightforward. I had this belief that I’d come in and everyone would understand why I’m here. I believed that to a great extent, it is the teachers responsibility for the success of the kids. I knew about corporal punishment still occurring in Namibia, and I assumed because of that, the biggest issue in education is the teachers. I’m realizing it’s a lot deeper than that. Of course it is, of course it is.
I gave a quiz to my eighth grade math classes last week. The day before that, I gave them the exact questions on the quiz using different numbers. I consistently walked around the 53 person classes and looked at everyone’s notes and work. I corrected the kids constantly, never with judgement. When I asked the entire class to answer the questions, they answered unanimously, correctly. I reminded them to look in their notes. Study the examples. I reminded them to ask me any questions at any time if they are confused about anything, anything at all. I am here to help.
The average score on the quiz was about 55%.
The problems with education in Namibia run deep. Teen pregnancy is extremely common, and it is sometimes encouraged by parents. This is not a reading culture. Outside of the Bible, most people in Kayengona do not read for fun. Most people don’t speak English outside of school.
Most of my learners have very weak reading comprehension. Some can’t read their notes at all. Most of my eighth graders are 18 and 19 years old.
They are beginning to disrespect me. The boys in the back talk over me. They know I won’t hit them like the other teachers. I asked them if they wanted me to leave. They said no. I told them I can’t teach when they are all talking. They talk anyway.
In the past week, I have asked myself why I am here. What can I really do differently from a Namibian teacher? Why did I have any notion that I’d be any better at teaching in a culture I don’t fully understand? Is teaching Namibian kids really why I’m here? Of course not. Because I am a privileged American, I have opportunities. This is an opportunity like no other for self growth, eye-opening experiences and intercultural exchange. I’m here because I am drawn to adventure. I am fascinated by humanity and I want to learn about people. I am privileged. I am here because I am American and because I am American I can go anywhere in the world. I am here because I care about people and I use my American culture and biases to make conclusions about what is important to a society of people. Education. Education is important to me in a very American way. Study, work, climb the ladder and create something for yourself. In each of my Namibian learners I have wrongly Americanized them to see their linear potential. And I care. I care very much about my unfair beliefs regarding the importance of education on an individual level. I care so much about these kids that I am making myself lose hope because they are not fulfilling my expectations. They don’t value education in the same ways I do. They aren’t receptive to encouragement and positive feedback in the way I expected because they aren’t used to it. It’s not normalized in Namibian culture. They aren’t studying. They aren’t asking me for help. I can’t teach 92 eighteen year olds how to read while in math class. Maybe I can?
No, I can’t.
My responsibility is great and nothing much at all. I am a white woman living in post-apartheid Africa. People want to marry me. People want my money. They have many assumptions about who I am because I am a white woman in post-apartheid Africa. People don’t know why I am here. All I can do is explain. And I do. They ask me why I am here. I say I’m here because I want the world to better understand one another. “Then why can’t I come to America? Intercultural exchange you say? Why isn’t the Peace Corps an exchange program?” It’s unfair, I say, and I can’t change it. I wish I could.
Do I have a responsibility to lessen people’s fears? Adults admit they are scared of me. My learners admitted it too. I don’t want to be feared. Should I aim at lessening people’s fears of white people? I am friendly, I am me, I think I am slowly doing this. But is that a good thing? Maybe Namibian’s should be a little apprehensive of white people…
It’s been hard. Being here is hard. And there is so much more I didn’t mention. On top of a surprise athletics day during what is supposed to be a school day, many learners who ran didn’t have food or water. It was 90 degrees outside. For the ones that collapsed while running, I bought them water. Nobody else seemed concerned. Money is an interesting topic. In my monthly Peace Corps allowance, I get about $350 USD, which is significantly more than most Namibians have. There are very few job opportunities in Namibia, and even people with college degrees don’t have jobs. I am a volunteer, so how is it right that in American standards, being a volunteer and “not getting paid” means having full access to expensive food and luxuries that most Namibians don’t have? How do I explain that to people? Just in being here I am reinforcing stereotypes about all Americans being rich, and in America, $350 a month is considered extreme poverty! How selfish am I for the struggle! I have food! Inconsistent electricity and inconsistent running water is nothing, so why does it feel so hard?
If you have any advice or answers to any of my questions, please reach out to me. I understand that I won’t be able to fulfill all my expectations and perceived purpose. I am one person. And I know that for the rest of my life I will be asked about these upcoming two years. Part of my responsibility is to convey my experience with diligence and respect. And as much as I want to improve the education and knowledge of my learners, I can only do so much. Unfairly, unjustly, this is merely an experience for me, a blip in time. I have a spot in America waiting for me, and I can’t give people what they want from me the most.
P.S. On the first day of school, my principal handed me a kitten! She just.. gave me a stray kitten! We named her Poppy.
Comments
8 responses to “Kwato Yimaliwa”
Helen, I loved what you wrote. You are caring and you are concerned for your students. That’s bound to make a difference in their lives over time. They aren’t used to anyone caring or helping them. In time, they will grow to appreciate what you do for them. Yes, one person can make a difference. A huge impact in a person’s life, and even a whole classroom. Keep pushing through the hard. Your “hard” is easy to define, in terms of the basic human needs of food, shelter, water, etc. beyond that we all have a need to connect, learn and grow. That’s your purpose there, to give your students that connection and potential for growth. Hoping it gets better each day 🙂
I miss you and poppy is beautiful!
Oh, Helen. It is so difficult to live somewhere culturally different. Where education isn’t taught/valued as highly as you’ve experienced. In some way, it makes sense. Even people who study hard and get degrees can’t get jobs. Maybe learners don’t feel motivated to learn because the product of that learning seems to lead nowhere, at least from their perspective. Maybe you can only meet them where you are, and make no comparison to the American education system, since they don’t have the same incentives to learn, read, or write.
I never made the dedicated decision to learn. Raised with highly educated parents, it was simply what I did. And the thought “should I go to college?” never came up. It was simply what my parents did and everyone around me was doing. It was a given, a certainty.
It is a great privilege to be carried along in your youth through good education, and to live in a culture that values it… at least from my American perspective.
Perhaps the reverse happens in your village. The standard is less education. People’s closest friends and family members are not educated. It is not a given. The value is unclear.
You are making change, Helen. At the very least, you are creating a safe place in your classroom, something that some students may have never had. You teach with kindness and without judgement. To give this to anyone, across cultures, is beautiful.
You are not responsible for fixing anything. No one wants to be fixed. One person cannot fix people, another person, not even themselves. Especially given the distrust towards other cultures in this villages insular culture. You are the first peace corp volunteer in 15 years here, right? It makes sense to be suspicious. This generation of students may have never had an American teacher.
Your experiences give me gratitude for my life. I am so grateful for my parents, my culture, and my education for preparing me for a prosperous life, despite their flaws. I cannot help the world. I cannot help the culture. But, I can help people.
Helen, you spread kindness everywhere you go. You will do what you can as best you can, because you are Helen. You need not worry about doing better. You must know this in your bones, or else always feel inadequate.
Kindness needs the absence of judgement. Who would truly listen to you if they felt you comparing them to some distant culture (American)?
Kindness needs acceptance for what comes and does not.
With this, some may remember you forever.
I love you Helen. Thank you for sharing this story. This morning, sat on this Sunnyvale balcony, sunlight breaking through tears on my glasses lens, I will pray to the sun for your kindness.
-Alex
Very well said Alex! Helen’s writing brought tears to my eyes too
Hi Helen, what a thoughtful post. I really appreciate these updates and it is so cool what you are doing, even though it is obviously very hard at times. Thank you for these updates and please continue doing them. Please reach out too if you want to talk more, thinking of you 🙂
Helen, what a beautiful and moving post. It made me feel very vulnerable and emotional, and it truly stayed with me. Yes, you’re right… life is often unfair, and many of us reach a moment when the world becomes harder to understand, when our differences feel complex and uncomfortable. And so often, the only way through that complexity is kindness, which is exactly what you are doing.
In our own experiences, we’ve seen how opportunities are not equal. And yet, the grit and determination of some of your learners, and the way you show up for them, feel like the real hope. Seeing how some keep pushing forward against enormous odds is deeply moving. And I admire how you are there for them, not trying to change them, but honoring them for who they are. In doing so, you are offering something essential: Respect.
Yes… cultural differences are so complex. Our biases and ways of living can make it difficult to see the world through different lenses. That’s why I admire so much what you and Matias chose to do… to expose yourselves, to push yourselves, and to stay open. That openness is a rare and powerful gift, not only for you, but for everyone around you.
Reading your post reminded me that the most meaningful thing we can do each day is simply to be present. Your presence alone is already creating change… Thank you for doing this beautiful and hard work. Thank you for showing up. I admire and love you guys very much!
Great post, Helen. Wow, heavy-duty stuff! My hat is off to you. What you are doing takes great determination. I admire your desire for adventure and intercultural exchange. I have three cousins who moved from Michigan to Colombia as small children, and they benefitted greatly. I have a high school friend that taught English in Poland for a couple of years (in the Iron Curtain days), and for the last 30 years has lived in Japan. I hope you don’t become too discouraged. I’ve heard a wise Christian pastor say that we are not called to be successful but to be faithful. It is very difficult to overcome the entrenched cultural attitudes of the folks we Americans try to serve. I hope and pray that you will have an impact on your Namibian learners, but if it looks like you are moving the needle a microscopic amount, not to worry, you are learning resilience and leadership skills which will pay off throughout your life. I can see why the Namibian teachers use corporal punishment. Proverbs 23:13 says “do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die.” (also see Prov 13:24 and 22:15). I am curious if you have a source of encouragement, wisdom and guidance over there? Peace Corps supervisor? Other non-Peace Corps Westerners? Church workers? Namibian elders? Do you call folks back home? At any rate, hang in there, your posts are terrific reading and very educational.
Thank you for the wise words and encouragement! I agree that I will walk away from Namibia with skills and stories that’ll last me a lifetime. I will keep pushing. I often call friends back home and talk to Peace corps staff and other volunteers about my experiences. It helps me a lot! I appreciate you reaching out 🙂