How We Searched for Western Education in my Generation.
By Ogiri John Ogiri
Our consciousness of the necessity of Western Education co-existed alongside our frantic quest for its acquisition in the community or society I lived and grew up. How we pursued knowledge and learnt what we could in my society was an attestation to the simple fact that education was viewed as a necessity by my generation.
In my generation, we strove hard to acquire western education despite the limited infrastructural facilities available to us. In my immediate communities of Oladegbo, Alaglanu Obotu-Ekeh and Ingle all in Edumoga where I grew up and had my elementary educational training,available infrastructure in the primary schools left much to be desired. In our various classes, logs of wood or "Igbochi" procured through a joint effort of the community members provided the seats on which we sat and took lessons everyday. The dusty floors, which yearned for the affectionate touch of cements all the time were only enclosed by thatched-huts serving as our classrooms. It was under those conditions we learnt, though some of us failed examinations more than we passed them. For instance, I started my primary school education at the LGEA Primary School, Oladegbo Edumoga Ehaje in 1989. I was admitted into Primary one or what was called "ebihi" While here, I barely passed. In fact, the best position I had always taken in this school was to follow from the bottom of my class. I was part of those pupils not very familiar with what passing an examination in school meant. I could barely remember the number of times I was arrested by a team of strong boys dispatched by my class teacher, Mr Linus Abba (of the blessed memory) from the forest,farm or the village square "Ikpoke" The same fate befell many of my colleagues who engaged in truancy or completely absented themselves from school without genuine excuses. What was obvious in all these was that teachers cared about us. They awarded no mark arbitrarily and sold no certificate. They were not rich, yet,they discharged their pedagogical responsibilities with a committed resilience and vigour.
In those days, results were not handed to any pupil. Rather, once a term came to an end after a terminal examination, a day would be scheduled when all parents, teachers and pupils would converge either under a tree in the school premises or in a large class. The headmaster or any other teacher would then announce each pupil's position to the loud hearing of the parents. Those who passed were applauded with some thunderous claps in two quick successions, while those who did not pass were greeted with a different kind of derogatory but funny applause. For instance, the teacher would call my name "John Andrew" (I took my dad's first name then) and the audience would respond "kwonkwodo ga jokpehi le kwonkwodo" meaning literarily "fallen, come and eat pig skin" with "kwonkwodo" connoting a hyperbolic sense of the intensity of such a fall. I was part of those who never passed. In fact,I spent three years in primary one or "ebihi"
We had committed teachers who used the language of the environment, in addition to the English language, to teach and instruct us. It was just that, as children, fishing (uwo oota), swimming (angwa oota) in the local river Ogbadibo as well as hunting (otéoota) for rats particularly "uglo" (a particular specie of bush rats) would not let us concentrate on studies.
I later attended LGEA Primary School, Akanama Ingle, LGEA Primary School, Alaglanu Obotu-Ekeh before returning to finish primary six at LGEA Primary School, Akanama Ingle in 1995.
Amidst all these, our quest for western education never wavered. We continued to trudge on. We had many senior school level graduates but fewer numbers of university graduates. When we finally found ourselves in the secondary school, we began to have higher dreams thanks to the inspirations derived from having corp members teach us in some of the secondary schools we attended. Kudos must,at this juncture, be given to Obotu Community Secondary School, Ipiga Mission, late Mr Obande Obeya, founder of Obeya Memorial School, Okpoga, Mr. & Mrs. Joseph Olokpo of St Joseph's College, Ichakwu and Edumoga Community Secondary School, Ojigo that helped some of us discover our potential. However, to be specific, it was at St Joseph's College, Ichakwu near Ugbokolo that I got to discover fully who I was, what I could and could not do.
In my generation, we read and studied hard for examinations. We had no issue of parents going to a school to challenge teachers for punishing their wards. In fact, some of our parents would secretly report our stubborn behaviours at home to the school authority for appropriate punishments. I remember getting twelve strokes of cane one day during an assembly of all staff and pupils in one of the primary schools I attended only to go home that day and discovered that it was my grandmother that had reported me to my headmaster. We had no case of parents going to a school to demand that their wards who failed must be promoted. Every promotion was on merit. It must be worked for. If you passed, you got promoted but if you failed, you would repeat a class. No more, no less.
Many of us studied without textbooks. We depended on the bulky notes we copied from the black chalk-boards. We read them voraciously, studying them every day in order to know and be able to pass our examinations. We had no electricity. We depended on locally-made lamps. Those whose parents could not afford the lamps depended on another locally-improvised lamps with naked flames known in Idoma as agege.
As the night gave way for the dawn as early as possible,we would hurry to our local stream or river, however cold or warm, dashed into the water and took our bath sometimes without soaps and sponges. With no towel to dry water as it trickled down our body,we would put on our clothes sometimes without creaming the skin at all. We were not familiar with sumptuous breakfasts but we never worried as the remnants of the previous night's meal of 'fufu' or "onobécha" divided into several bolus and mixed in "Okoho, ogbono (oh'upi), okra soup or " ikpoho" or "ijangada" came handy. We heated it on the charcoal fire usually enclosed by three stones or "achola",ate hurriedly and set off for school.
However,in the absence of "onobécha" we would fetch some cassava flakes or "garri", collected some palm kernels and mixed them with water in a transparent bottle and have it securely tucked away in the improvised sac that had our books and pencils. My of us made do with gruel variously known in Idoma as "odugba" or "enyi".We had no pocket money but that did not deter our resolve to go to school.
We trekked to school in group from far sometimes covering several kilometres on our sometimes lonely footpaths. Only nature kept us company on the way. Different species of birds or "Igbano" sang in sonorous melodies to calm our stress and relieve our tiredness. More so, the beautiful sight of blooming plants dancing romantically to the caressing of the wind's invisible touch lifted our waning 'spirit' as we walked to and from school every day.
In my generation, we had no cultists in the secondary schools. Yes,we had stubborn boys and girls but they neither threatened to nor actually killed anyone. It was just raw stubbornness and for that,they usually got punished with uncountable strokes of cane and a portion of a school's field to manually chop down for days. They were not into cultism.
In my generation, we worked for whatever we got. Hard work, honesty and transparency guided our pursuit of success. We studied for whatever mark(s) we got in schools. Our parents never followed us to look for admissions. We went alone. We did it ourselves. Age was no barrier. Not having transport fare was never an excuse for not going to school. We trekked in the absence of transport means and fares. We only had to leave early enough. Besides, having no sponsor was equally not a serious barrier to going to school as some of us worked for pay on people's farms after schools and on weekends to pay our school fees. This is called "onyeblu".
My generation placed a high premium on an education with a highly enviable merit system that encouraged hard work and honesty as the only means to success. This is the generation I am indebted to. It is to this generation I owe my pride.
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