School Fires – A Challenge to Education
I live in the Pacific Northwest, land of water and huge trees. I realize I could not love two more disparate places, as I sit in what feels like a furnace, in my home of Taru, Kenya. Today Kenya Keys is sponsoring a day-long conference on a most urgent national and local problem: fire.
Fire is also a big concern in my Northwest home. Climate change has brought record heat to our cool part of the country and with the heat has come unprecedented fires, fires that lick up the statuesque trees and consume them whole, hundreds of thousands of acres of them. The smoke and raining ash subdue the joys of summer, as we watch the news.
Here in Kenya, the fire issue has a different face. Arson is most often the igniter. School dorms are most often the target. As students returned to school after the long Covid break, things got worse. Not long ago, a long wick, a rope-like snake of a thing, soaked in paraffin, dropped into a dorm. The wick lit from a distance far from the school, consuming the gas as it raced up the long wick, it was invisible, but effective. Fire started while the students were in class. Soon there was screaming and shouting. Students fainted, knowing their very few personal belongings would burn. No fire trucks to call. No 911. The community rushes in, everyone gathering any bit of water they can find – in a drought.
The damage done. Silence. Smoke.
Educators, students, stakeholders – all recoil in disbelief and shame. Shame because this is no outside enemy. Like terrorism or shootings in the U.S. – the enemy is within. It strikes all hearts with dismay. Why? Why? All are asking. Why, where education is so prized and resources so scare, would anyone, let alone students, start a fire to burn what is most treasured?
How had this problem continued, with shock, anger and fear spreading, without anyone pulling together a “think tank” to brainstorm solutions and better understand causes?
Kenyan director of Kenya Keys, Joseph Mwengea, along with his Kenyan team and with our U.S. support, decided to tackle this question straight on. Weeks of planning have gone into the regional conference we were now attending. Due to Covid concerns, only the major stakeholders could come. The theme: School fires: a challenge to the education of our children – A reflection and way forward.
Joseph, who loves to foster discussion and solve problems, was in his glory as the guests arrived. Principals from 16 schools; 6 high schools and 10 primary schools, with 12 student representatives as well. And the “big wigs,” (the term, a leftover from the British, when the members of Parliament strutted about in their huge white wigs) government officials from the ministry of education. This was a first of its kind. Another British residue demanded that we observe protocols, which meant time introducing, honoring, and giving official “vote of thanks.”
But we got to sit back and watch something fascinating happen. One participant pointed out that if you destabilize education, your country becomes destabilized. Kenya is at a critical juncture. Two speakers followed, then an open forum, that soon ignited a fire of its own. In this authoritarian educational system, students rarely have a voice. They are mannerly and obey, so much so that it is shocking to watch how 500 students can file in and out so orderly. Respect is the name of the game. But today they were in full voice, as equals in producing solutions for this baffling, horrible problem. The student panel, moderated by a Kenya Keys graduate, shared the pressures they were under and reminded all that the arsonists were a tiny group unleashing the pressure that countless students were feeling. They were “hoodlums,” and the students hated the shame they all had to carry because of the few.
What are the pressures the students are under? Wow. Hold on. Poverty – first, extreme poverty. A global pandemic – nine months out of school, resulting in schools trying to make up for lost time by compressing schedules, which meant more big tests, less time to study, days beginning at 4 AM (yes, that is not a typo) and ending after preps (extra study sessions) at 10 PM. Drought resulting in less food than ever. Hot, crowded conditions in their dorms. Breaks between terms cut short or eliminated, so students could not be with their families. One student pointed out that their seclusion in school, away from the other sex, lead to sexual frustration. “Poverty and stress can lead to a loss of dignity,” a participant adds. “Loss of dignity dehumanizes and will always lead to sad things.”
The list went on and on. We listened in awe. And, disbelief, as we came to fully understand the government policy for punishment at a school where there had been a dorm fire. In a place that runs on the notion “all for one, and one for all,” there is a belief that if all are punished, all would learn a lesson. All requirements had to be met before the student could return to school. What were the requirements? They were three-fold:
o ALL students must pay a fee for fire damages.
o Students who lost their belongings in a fire had to replace them.
o ALL students in the school who had back fees, had to pay them.
The extremely poor students were in arrears on fees. Often the school carried these fees out of mercy, but not post-fire.
Wow! Are you kidding me? The victims of these fires “punished” so harshly for what they did not do? How many dreams of education will be shattered by this reality? Do they really think this kind of punishment will be a deterrent? Why then, was the problem getting worse, not better?
The discussion was fascinating. Hearts open. Principals listening raptly to what the students had to say. A university professor, Dr. Nyanje Batso, who specializes in Conflict Management, posed important questions. Six hours later, even the Kenyans were wearing out (we’d become bleary- eyed hours before). But “a way forward” laid out. It would take more words to address those ideas but suffice it to say that everyone left feeling empowered; no longer helpless and hopeless.
Joseph always says, “Now Rinda…let’s determine the way forward.” We cannot wallow. We cannot lament. Kenya Keys is made of “changemakers,” as they say. This complex problem still not solved, by any means, but people became united by sharing grief as well as ideas; in embracing action, not reaction; in each taking personal responsibility for how they could influence each of their realms.
Undoubtedly a fire is lit… the good kind of fire.