Over the hills and through the bush we go...

Walking to Bhekintuthuko from Ezakheni

For the last month, I’ve been helping my organization’s Community Care Givers (CCGs) implement Grassroots Soccer (GRS) at Bhekintuthuko High School. Grassroots Soccer is a popular project for Peace Corps Volunteers here (mainly because implementing it is enjoyable, low-cost and effective). Through soccer and other interactive games, youth learn about HIV transmission, prevention and treatment. Learners (students) open up quickly during these sessions, taking advantage of the safe space to ask questions about everything from sex and relationships to HIV, STIs and general health. GRS was first implemented by the volunteer before me—she organized trainings for our organization’s CCGs and interested folks from the local Department of Social Development office, successfully implemented with hundreds of learners from multiple schools in the area, and put on concentrated GRS day camps for youth. Grassroots Soccer has been very successful in this area, where having unprotected sex is common practice and HIV rates are high. Youth also gravitate to the open, safe environment the CCGs create in the classroom or out in the yard. Unlike their Life Orientation classes, GRS deals with taboo topics that youth (usually age 14-21) are dying to know more about: sex, relationships and HIV. The program is broken down into 11 sessions, with a pre-quiz and post-quiz given at the beginning and end of the intervention. A graduation is held for learners at the end. It’s a chance for them to share what they’ve learned through original poems, dramas or songs. Feedback from past interventions is overwhelmingly positive. The program is very youth-friendly, but the CCGs make it an enjoyable and educational program by bringing their own life experiences, dance moves and infectious energy to each session.

The narrow path learners use to get to school

Bhekintuthuko—Bheki for short—is the major high school in Mctheni, the rural area that borders Ezakheni Township. From my house on the edge of Section D, it takes a good 45 minutes to walk to Bheki. The trail is rough, dipping down into dry creek beds and up over fences separating properties. The path winds its way through the bush, binding smaller household footpaths together. This area is rural, with only multi-generational compounds and the occasional communal tap dotting the hills. Families are mostly subsistence farmers, planting maize on rocky plots. They also keep herds of scraggly goats, which roam free during the day and somehow find their way back to the corral at dusk. Wealthier families own cows, which are used to pay dowries (labola) or slaughtered for Zulu ceremonies. Work is constant, but can easily go unnoticed if you’re looking at the ground to avoid tripping on rocks along the uneven path. After bush fires, women chop down small thorny trees for firewood, steadily moving across the newly charred landscape. Men are less visible, tending to the livestock or sitting at home drinking local brew. Although Ezakheni is just over the hill, the township feels far away.

Every school day learners make the trek from the all corners of the township to attend school at Bheki. It is

Grassroots Soccer Coaches

hard to pinpoint what motivates learners travel so far to attend school in the rural areas. From 6:15 in the morning, clusters of learners flock through my neighborhood on their way to Bheki, slowly trudging back in the afternoon heat.

Grades are broken down by classroom, i.e. Grade 10A, 10B and 10C. The A, B and C mean more in the higher grades. Top students, usually focused on the sciences or mathematics are in the A class. How learners actually get divided into the three classes is beyond me, especially when 30-40% is a passing grade. With anywhere from 50 to 70 learners in each class, the classrooms feel cramped. The rooms are simple, fitted only with a chalkboard and desks. Like any high school, learners sit with their friends. Younger girls and boys usually sit in front, while the older learners rule the back of the room. Unlike high school in the US, where students are usually roughly the same age, in South Africa the age of learners in a given class can vary widely. There will be 14 and 21 year-olds in the same grade, usually because of the high fail rate. Learners are routinely held back after failing one, sometimes multiple years. The pressure on learners is intense—the math and science they are expected to understand is far more advanced than what is taught in the US. Despite rigorous coursework, the fail rate is high. Teachers are often ill-equipped (or lack the motivation) to get learners exam-ready. In high school exams are administered in English. This becomes a challenge for most learners because subjects are routinely taught in isiZulu. South Africa has 11 official national languages, but exams for upper primary and secondary

learners are held in English. Again and again, this becomes a problem for learners.

Grade 8 learners who completed GRS last term

It is easy to critique South Africa’s education system. It is easy to find fault with teachers’ liberal use of corporal punishment or lackluster teaching methods. On the other hand, I keep trying to look for things that are working or going well. Learners at Bheki are eager for information. The CCGs and I get routinely get brazen questions about sex, relationships, health, jobs, marriage and everything in between.  It feels good to be able to relay or research information to share. The daily trek is tiring but oddly satisfying. I never thought I’d find myself teaching sex ed to teens in a rural high school, looking up the history of latex condoms, or facilitating conversations about virginity, but there you had it.

More stories from the field (the bush, really) soon.