January 25, 2009
Last Thursday we had our school’s graduation ceremony; exams don’t begin until February 9th, but the students go home (and never come back) as soon as they are finished with their tests, so all ceremonies need to be done beforehand. Wednesday there were no classes – the students cleaned up for the entire day. Previous meetings and celebrations had been pretty disorganized affairs, and I was expecting much of the same – most of the Form V’s haven’t even returned to the school yet, and the date for this ceremony was decided at almost the last possible moment. I was wrong, though. The school set up two tarps to protect people from the sun, hired a DJ, and invited several other schools as well as the local big shot. They set up various other decorations, flags made from torn t-shirts and entrance gates made out of long sticks braided with each other.
Big shots here are always late, and all of the little minnows depending on their favors are always waiting for them. I was already familiar with this particular big man, the District Commissioner who came during the food shortages and then again to inspect the school grounds a week later. In the first instance he was almost begging the students not to become violent; in the second instance he came without any warning and expected to be escorted around by our principal. I can’t pretend to be particularly impressed with this guy, and my experience in Kenya taught me not to trust any African with a microphone. In any case he arrived some three hours late. Before then students piga storied or sat around bullshitting. We talked about Barack Obama’s inauguration and about HIV education, and eventually the ceremonies started.
The headmaster, the head of the school board, and the politician all gave speeches, mostly concerning the problems with Ndanda (lack of food, teachers, books, and lab equipment) and also described what they believed to be the solutions to these problems. These speeches were broken up by various interludes – first a group of students rapped, in Kiswahili, about the perils of HIV/AIDS. Two other students copied a popular comedy routine; then some visiting students from a nearby O-level day school performed a traditional Makonde dance (ngonda). Six students performed acrobatics for some fifteen minutes, backflips and human pyramids and balancing acts. After all this was finished, “discipline” certificates were handed out to the hardest working students, and each one got a leaving certificate.
Afterwards the students began taking pictures. A man with an old camera was taking pictures, and every graduate wanted one; each one also wanted pictures with me and Erina, and we sat for maybe sixty or seventy different shots each. Finally the students ate lunch and had a party, a disco, while the teachers ate in their own room. The headmaster through our own party later that night.