The global education challenge: making the grade in Mali
Version 0 of 1. Sabalibougou district school is set back from the main road, a block away from the right bank of the river Niger in Bamako. Next door is the daily sheep market. The broad open area between the school and the road, which appears at first the perfect area for a boisterous game of football, is in fact land recently cleared of informal housing. The local authority has plans to develop here. The immaculate schoolyard hosts 4,500 pupils from years one to nine, all on one site. The set-up is typical for state schools in urban areas. In Mali, as in France, public school students wear what they like or have; the students who pass by in uniform are heading to private schools. Related: What is the millennium development goal on education all about? It costs 1,500 central African francs ($2.50; £1.67) a year to study at Sabalibougou, but there are still parents who cannot muster the fee. Private schools in the city can charge anything from $1,200 to $8,000 a year. Students stay in their block from grades one to six, the first “cycle”, before moving up a section for grades seven to nine. Beyond that, some leave the school system while others head for the upper school, or “lycée”. The milieu is distinctive, but the challenges facing the school, its students and its staff – lack of funding, overstretched facilities, large classes, a dearth of teacher training, children failing to progress to secondary education in sufficient numbers – reflect a pattern discernible across many developing regions. The school monitors absences carefully. There are many reasons that prevent students coming to school here, but money is part of the story. Adama Issa Diarra is the director of school “F”, one of the eight sections within the compound. “Sometimes we notice that some students don’t come to school, mainly due to the fact that many families are still poor. Sometimes some students don’t even eat before coming here and parents feel ill at ease. When it comes to paying school fees – because we have to collect the fees – we tell parents, ‘If you don’t pay, we’ll be obliged to ask your kids to remain at home’. Some parents, because they don’t have money, just decide that their kids won’t come until they get some money.” The school gives parents the option to pay step by step. Even then, some are not able to meet the deadline. But money is not the only factor that prevents all local children from enrolling, says Diarra. “Unfortunately, there are still some families who don’t accept sending the kids to these kind[s] of public schools. Some want to send their kids to Islamic schools, which are very different from our system. Some just don’t want to send their kids to school because they help them in the farms, or they use their kids for other things to get money..” In a packed ninth-grade classroom, some of the school’s oldest students squeeze on to benches. Exercise books are open, and the teacher has written the aim of the lesson on the blackboard: today it is “récitation”. The first two students, both girls, rather shyly deliver their accounts to the class of nearly 100. But then the form’s star steps forward to make his case with gusto. About 70-80% of the children who start school in Sabalibougou complete the basic level. From there, only half go on to secondary school. Diarra says this is down to the challenge of passing the last class. “Many kids have to take the classes many times and finally, at a given time – when they’ve taken it two or three times – you’re obliged to send them out. So unfortunately it’s [only] about 50% who succeed.” Looking around the school, there is little sign of a gender gap for those successfully completing basic education. Secondary level graduation is a different matter, however. “Unfortunately, many girls don’t succeed in finishing their secondary school,” says Diarra. “We have two main issues. The first is that they get married early, or too early. The second one is unwanted pregnancies; when these occur, most of the girls have to stop school.” It’s break time now. As students pour out into the courtyard, two children share their plans for the future. Fanta Bamba, 14, says she likes school very much and particularly enjoys learning English. “I would like to continue my studies. I’m very lucky because my family allows me, as a girl, to continue. So I will make the most of this opportunity to finish my studies.” Fanta has yet to decide what she wants to do when she leaves school. “It’s not very clear in my mind, but I would like to get a very good job where I can have enough money and have a good life and also help my parents.” Her friend, Bourama Fomba, 13, would like to go on to lycée after finishing. He has given careful consideration to what comes next. “When I finish my studies, I would like to find a good job in an office, or even to become a minister – why not?” But such aspirations are a challenge to nurture when there are 80 pupils in Bourama’s class, and 82 in Fanta’s. Diarra ponders the biggest difficulties facing the country’s teachers. “We have a few key challenges: we have a large number of students per class, [and] sometimes when teachers have too many students in their class the quality of the teaching will decrease.” He would like to see more opportunities for teacher training, especially continuing professional development. Teachers also lack resources to deliver some lessons, says Diarra: “Sometimes teachers don’t have enough – or appropriate – materials … it’s very, very difficult.” As director, Diarra supports other staff. “We try to assist the teachers in the class, sometimes we even give them model, simple classes as we teach and make them observe and learn from that observation.” But with large classes and relatively limited resources, motivation is a key issue, says Diarra. “This is the problem, the system is not really improving because sometimes there is a lack of training for teachers and sometimes the training is not very adapted to the situation and there is a lack of teaching materials, so it’s very difficult for teachers even to apply what they’ve been learning.” Unsurprisingly, only a minority of school F pupils will make it to university. Those who do will study alongside students who have come up through the private school system. “It’s very sad to say,” says Diarra, “but poor families tend to send their kids to public schools and, of course, rich families prefer to send their children to private schools, where maybe it’s better organised and with more possibilities, more materials and so on.” Bourama, though, remains upbeat. “If I have a chance to talk to people in the world, I would like them to understand that here in Mali it’s not very easy but students are serious [hard-working]. We are really doing our best to move forward, because we are aware what an opportunity – for both boys and girls – going to school represents.” |