In the late 1990s, the students of Butere Girls High School occasionally used to march on what appeared to be designated roads and paths within the vicinity of the school. After stepping out of the main gate on Butere-Shiatsala road, they would take any direction—but always in the company of a teacher or teachers.
The institution was then headed by a vibrant lady by the name of Mrs Ruth Otieno.
The march was always after the formal teaching, which the Ministry of Education then, as now, designates, as 3.30pm. The students took long walks during games time: along the busy Butere-Shiatsala road, either towards Butere Upper Market or towards Butere Lower Market. Sometimes, they branched off the main road onto smaller roads, still under evident guidance and a teacher or teachers.
The students would always be back to school in time for supper around 6pm in readiness for preps. The ministry designates preps to start at around 7pm until 9.30pm before students retire to bed.
I had the opportunity to watch this seeming and highly educational routine because I used to work at the then Butere/Mumias District Information Office, at Butere Township where the Butere/Mumias District headquarters was located.
I was fascinated by this spectacle for several reasons. The marching reminded me of the experience I had at National Youth Service in Gilgil town between May and August 1986. Part of the training entailed what in military lingo is called route or foot march—a long march on foot, done by soldiers when they are training over rough roads, tracks or difficult terrain.
Difficult though it was, it gave us an opportunity to walk out of what appeared to us a restrictive environment. The walk was leisurely and unhurried.
Similarly, the walk of the students was leisurely and unhurried. Some of the students jumped up and down, others playfully chased each other, plucking leaves here and there and sniffing at them. Obviously, the students were revelling in the walk, away from the rigours of academics, healing and relaxing the mind.
I could once in a while, see some students simply walking barefooted. They had removed their rubber shoes, apparently wanting to feel mother earth without the obstruction of shoes. The marches created an opportunity for students to walk away from school routine.
Embedded in a quality education such as ours is curriculum rigour. A rigorous curriculum is cognitively demanding and challenging to students. Besides, they sit for long hours in class, ask teachers questions, and with the guidance of the teacher, engage in discussion around the concepts they are learning.
Five or six hours of class hours leave the students drained in mind, body and spirit. The route march I observed students of Butere girls undertake was doubtless, therapeutic. It repaired their minds, bodies and spirits.
The walks are not the only strategy to obviate the monotony of teaching and learning. The Ministry of Education has provided for what it calls school hours—period during which the student is expected to be in school. The policy outlines what should happen and at what time upon the commencement of the school day and its end.
Section 84 of the Basic Education Regulations, 2015 provides for co-curricular activities every day from Monday to Friday. It also provides for breaks reasonably long enough during formal teaching hours for students to relax—during break times and lunchtime.
It also provides for self-directed activities Monday to Friday; and for preps between 7.30pm and 9.30pm where students are left to carry out their own individual learning or revision work without formal learning whatsoever.
These break the monotony of actual teaching and learning in the classroom. Students get to learn without stress.
We have other techniques of making learning rigorous but fun at the same time.
Secondary school administrations in the 70s and early 80s had devised imaginative systems of helping the students deal with the tension or stress associated with schooling.
Some headmasters and headmistresses—as principals of secondary schools were then designated—invited music bands to play for the students at mutually agreed intervals every weekend. This was the time for students to dance off their heads the whole afternoon, have supper and a sound sleep over the weekends.
Others school heads organised symposiums on certain subjects where—almost always—the discussions were between a boys’ and a girls’ secondary school. There was also sporting activities where the entire student body got immersed: as participants or fans.
The classroom was never a source of stress. The cheerful atmosphere that permeated the student body diffused whatever irritations and anger they might encounter in the dining hall, hostel or other quarters.
All these happened because the overriding focus of the teachers and the students was the curriculum: Knowledge, skills, values, attitudes and desired behavioural disposition. Every school programme had educational value—to build the minds, hearts and souls of learners.
