AGEYO’S ANGLE: Why schools unrest is our monkey

Nearly 30 years ago, my father who has since departed, told me something that crossed my mind once again this past week, as I reflected on the seemingly relentless unrest in schools.

On the eve of his retirement, after more than three decades in the teaching profession, he said he was almost overjoyed to be leaving the service. Of course, he was happy to take a break from the punishing daily commute on his bycycle. But there was one more reason, indeed the real reason, why he wanted to literally run away from the job he had done with such dedication for such a long period of time.

He lamented that the profession he had joined with such gusto in the mid 1950s was beginning to deteriorate so much that he could no longer recognise it. He wondered how it was now okay for a teacher to go to a homestead in the village, drink himself silly, mess himself up and lie on the roadside, in the full glare of his pupils, and still wake up the following day to talk to the very pupils about being dignified in life. He wondered how it was now okay for teachers to impregnate the very girls they taught and still stand in front of the class to talk about responbility.

Now, let me state at this point that I recognise the great work being done by so many teachers across this country, at great personal sacrifice. Some of my siblings are indeed very good teachers and I salute them alongside many others who just want the best for every child who comes into their care.

But what my father was grappling in his sunset days as a teacher, was the power of example. The place of role models that help to shape future generations into responsible, dignified adults. You see, as we seek more complex explanations for the breakdown of order in our schools, we must ask ourselves: just where in this country can we confidently say today, that order still reigns? Where in this country can we say our children can turn and find good examples to emulate?

I dare say that what we are confronted with is a crisis of values. A growing shortage of role models and powerful examples for our children. If politicians are not abusing each other or exchanging blows publicly, a businessman somewhere is evading tax and an official of this or that parastatal is stealing billions meant for road construction or such other important amenity, and a quack doctor is operating an illegal dangerous clinic behind his house.

The late Mahatma Gandhi listed what he called the seven social sins which I am tempted to repeat here, because I think we are truly guilty of most if not all of them. He talked about wealth without work – are we guilty of that or not? He listed pleasure without conscience, how about that. What about the third sin, knowledge without character? Oh boy, don’t we have too much of that! Then there is commerce without morality, you can say that again, what with all the corruption and tenderpreneurship that never ends in this country?

The fifth social sin on Gandhi’s list is science without humanity, while the sixth is religion without sacrifice, I don’t know what you think about that! And then the last one which I could talk about all night long – politics without principle. Ladies and gentlemen, this entire list defines our society today. The society where our children grow up. And we wonder why our children burn schools, we wonder why they no longer listen to their teachers or indeed any other adult.

That is why my father could be so disillusioned about a profession he had spent nearly his entire adult life serving. How many former police officers look at the service today and wonder who bewitched it? How many old doctors wonder what became of the dignified calling that once was? You can plug in your own profession and almost without fail, you will see a decline and a decay of values that once defined us.

This therefore, is a call back to our dignified selves, a call back to our values that are now included even in the 2010 Constitution at Article 10. Because what we are dealing with is not an external alien problem…as the Swahili people say: kikulacho kinguoni mwako.