Democratic Teacher Education Reforms In Namibia

Ken Zeichner

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2019
• Print ISBN: 9780367015848
• eBook ISBN: 9780429723858
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: African Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

An analysis of teacher education reforms in Namibia in the post-independence era, from the perspective of government personnel, teacher educators, and teachers themselves. This book examines post-independence teacher education reforms in the southern African country of Namibia from the perspective of various actors in the reform process: Ministry

1 A Story Told by a Namibian Educator

Dutte Shinyemba

My Life and Education in Preindependence Namibia

I WAS BORN IN A RURAL AREA, in a village called Onanghulo-Endola, approximately 30 kilometers northeast of Oshakati. I am the sixth daughter in our family. My parents are peasants. They had no opportunities to go to school when they were young. My mother attended school for two weeks, and then she was told by her uncle that she was not allowed to attend school. She stayed at home doing house chores and preparing food for the members of our extended family.

In the 1960s Endola was a safe place, but living standards were low. Because the people were not exposed to many foreign influences, they led a very simple life. They were content with the little they had.

Although some adult males went to the south to search for employment on farms or in mines, most of them stayed at home working on the fields and looking after their herds of cattle. Herds of cattle meant quite a lot to men at that time. They were more important than school and education. Therefore, many of the boys at that time in villages surrounding Endola were not sent to school until they were past the age for the first grade because they were kept at home or at the cattle post to look after the "precious" animals.

Despite all the hardships, parents made sure that members of their families did not go without food. We never knew anything like a drought-relief scheme. Therefore, we got our daily living from the fields, where mum cultivated sorghum, millet, watermelon, beans, pumpkins, and so on, as many Namibian women do. Food had always been there thanks to the hard work of mum and all of us at home.

My father died when I was very young. Mother couldn't take care of all of us, so I went to stay with relatives at a farm called Waterbank, between Usakos and Swakopmund. From the time I was five until I was six, I spent my days at the farm under a tree receiving lessons in reading and writing from my aunt. The counting was taught in Afrikaans: for example, een stokie en cen stoke is twee stokies means, "1 stick + 1 stick = 2 sticks." Reading was taught in mother tongue and Afrikaans: for example, Okatana ka Hafeni ka ka nena mofuka and worsie worsie moenie weg hardloop nie want ek wil jou he.

Because there was no school at Waterbank, when I turned seven, I went to stay with an aunt in Walvis Bay. I started my primary school there in 1965. Because I knew how to read and write, I started in Standard One. I can say with pride today that as children at that time, we were quite obedient and faithful to our parents and other older people. We accepted their authority without questioning it. Democracy was not known either at home or at school. Although we operated like robots, I think our parents were quite happy to have had children whom they could rely on at all times.

In Warns Bay I spent my afternoons collecting coal for fuel from the Osvil Canning Company. My aunt did housework in town, and I was responsible for most of the house chores. I spent my early morning hours cleaning the yard before I went to school, and the evenings selling tombo¹ and beers to contract workers. I never had an opportunity to study at home.

At school my teacher was newly graduated from the Agustineum Training College. He always had a cane in his hand. Whenever he entered the class, we stood up very straight and greeted him, saying, "Goeie more meneer." I didn't feel comfortable because I couldn't speak Afrikaans very well. I shivered whenever I was asked a question because any mistake was reason for a caning. Corporal punishment was the order of the day. The class was asked to sit silently. We could not consult one another or share ideas. Sharing ideas was considered stealing knowledge.

To my surprise at the end of the year, I was not promoted to Standard Two even though I knew how to read and write. No one from home asked why I was not promoted. There was no contact between the school and the home about my progress or failure. Can I call this an effective school? It is generally agreed that successful/effective schools are likely to be those that not only involve but also support and make demands on parents. My former school never demanded that my parents relieve me from home chores and support me in my homework or study. Similar schools still exist in Namibia.

In Standard Two, I was one of two girls who passed each test with 100 percent. Our teacher expressed her love for us by sending us to sell ice blocks in the street to the truants and dropouts during the lessons. We were happy because we felt we were loved. Our parents were not aware of this because their task was to send us to school but not to know what was happening there. Why did this teacher not give us extra work to do in class? These and similar problems have always affected and still affect fast learners in school.

After my completion of primary school, I registered as a full-time student at Oluno Secondary School. My school fees and pocket and transportation money were a joint venture of my mum, my aunt, my brother, and other relatives on my mother's side. The living conditions of the students were not good because there were no accommodations, and food was a major problem. Students brought their own food from home. Some students spent their nights in a nearby nightclub. Those who stayed with guardians were requested to do house chores. These conditions led to many dropouts at Oluno Secondary School in from 1975 to 1977. Our teachers could also absent themselves from classes without letting us know their whereabouts.

Until late in the 1970s, there were only three occupations or careers that blacks could follow (Apartheid closed off most occupations to blacks): namely teaching, nursing, and religion. The highest teacher-training qualification one could get in the 1970s was a PTC (Primary Teacher Certificate), which was being offered at both Ongwediva Teacher Training College and Augustineum Training College. These were both teacher-training colleges for blacks only.² Toward the end of the 1970s a more "advanced" teacher-training course was introduced at the Augustineum Training College, known as the JSTC (Junior Secondary Teacher Certificate), which qualified someone to teach at the junior secondary level (Cohen 1994). However, this course could not satisfy the demand for teachers at this level because it was limited to not more than ten teacher trainees per year. This was a drop in the sea compared to the need for teachers at the junior secondary level at that time.

After passing the Standard-Eight rote learning examination, I wanted to continue to form four. The authorities at Ongwediva refused to let me do so because I didn't pass with a C symbol, which then meant "outstanding." They didn't consider the hard conditions with which we were faced. So I decided to take a teaching course at Ongwediva Teacher Training Center, where Namibian learners in the north of the country continued to receive their teaching from South African Defense Force members, a situation which was very unhealthy because these military personnel used to teach while fully armed.

At college I was one of the students sitting in front of the class, daydreaming while the lecturer poured alien knowledge into us. Life at the college was similar to that at an ordinary school. As student teachers we were passive listeners, whereas lecturers were active talkers. In other words there was no student participation in the lesson proceedings. The lecturers did not consider our school and home experiences. I sat without understanding what the lesson was about, and I was afraid to ask questions because lecturers discouraged it. I memorized word for word what was put on the chalkboard or in the texts for examinations. Of course, I was used to passing with flying colors without proper understanding of what was being taught.

During our teaching practice, everyone of us had to teach and be observed twice by two different lecturers. Once, when I was dressed in red and white, I was to present a topic in hygiene, "Hoe om jou naels skoon te maak." My lecturer, Sonnet from South Africa, entered. She commented, "You look attractive!" I nodded, knowing that she would give me good marks for that. Of course, I got C, which meant "very good." She didn't even comment on my lesson, which was badly prepared and presented. The lesson's objectives, if there were any, were not achieved. The poor children did not gain anything.

After the completion of teacher training, I taught as a student teacher at Eluwa Special School for hearing-impaired and visually impaired students near Ongwediva. During my teaching there we had many visitors who had an interest in the school. Most of these visitors were from South Africa, and they came armed and in uniform. I was the unfortunate one because my classroom was close to the office. Whenever we had visitors, the principal would ask me to give a demonstration lesson. The school seemed like an army base because every morning the whole school area was full of armed men. I liked the school very much, but I got fed up and felt threatened by the everyday presence of armed men. I left and joined SWAPO³ of Namibia in Angola.

In exile I taught our young ones from Namibia. Eventually, SWAPO sent me to Sierra Leone in West Africa for a teacher-training course. After completing it, I went to Britain for a course on educational management and administration. When back in Angola, I participated in many school activities. I worked in the curriculum office for four years, where I supervised teachers and attended in-service training. The in-service training was based on daily problems experienced by teachers in various subjects. Because of the shortage of qualified teachers, unqualified teachers were assisted in lesson preparations by qualified teachers during the in-service training in the afternoons.

Most of the teachers participated in various extracurricular activities such as cultural dances, gymnastics, football, volleyball, and, of course, agriculture at the school farm, where we cultivated maize, squash, and other crops. Apart from the joint school garden, where we grew green peppers, carrots, onions, and tomatoes, we had individual gardens where we cultivated beans, cabbage, spinach, and so on. Poultry rearing was also common in each center.

The repatriation process, which brought those who had gone into exile home started. The United Nations personnel arrived. We registered and soon the time in exile would be filled with a great expectation that I would meet my healthy mother and see my village as I remembered it. I came back to Namibia in July 1989 and found that things were not the same. To my surprise the land had turned arid. Water was a major problem, and there was a an unprecedented lack of firewood. My beloved mum was unhealthy and had grown to look older than her age because of beatings by South African soldiers.

The school buildings in the town were modem. However, I felt like crying because my beloved nation was being educationally neglected. We were given nice-ooking buildings, but they housed a poor and valueless educational process. In remote villages, schools were so far away that young pupils could not reach them. Parents were afraid to send their children to school because they might get lost or drown during the rainy season. I wondered why we couldn't have smaller schools closer to the villages, since that proximity might lower the number of dropouts.

When I arrived in Namibia, I registered to vote, and I cast my vote for SWAPO with confidence that I voted for the future of our young ones and a future democratic education system.

Education Today: A Reflection on My Children's Education

After independence in 1990, education reform brought enormous changes. Parents are now more involved in their children's education. There are school boards in all schools. School-board members can make decisions in the running of the day-to-day school activities.

Through parental involvement, there are indications of improvements in education, and the relationship between home and school is strengthened. This fact is also proven by researchers. According to Mortimore et al., (1988, 226) "It is clear that involvement of parents in the school's life is related to greater effectiveness in promoting educational progress."

Today many schools in Namibia have an open-door policy. As a parent, I frequently visit my children's school to discuss their progress with their teachers. The schools often hold parents' days and parents' meetings at which educational matters are debated for the purpose of improving and developing teaching and learning.

We are often asked to contribute either money for outings, classroom construction, teaching equipment (e.g., photocopier), items for a bazaar.

Mortimore, et al., (1988) found that:

schools where parents helped in the classrooms, where they helped with visits and outings and provided other kinds of assistance, tended to have a beneficial effect. Schools which provided regular meetings for parents to discuss their children's work, where they had facilities or a room for parents' use and where it was practical for parents to be allowed to call in at any time to see the heads, also were associated with progress.

Nowadays, homework is done with the assistance of parents or other learners, unlike in the past, when learners were requested to "crack their heads" even if they did not understand what they were required to do. Education today is geared toward the African perspective of collective learning, collective working, and sharing. Mbigi (1997, 137) states, "Collective learning is a social, intellectual, and spiritual process in the African society."

Corporal punishment has been abolished by the constitution of the Republic of Namibia. Mistakes in schools are no longer cause for caning. Instead there is "discipline from within," an alternative to corporal punishment. The atmosphere in schools is more relaxed, friendly, warm, and caring.

Learners are no longer passive listeners who are asked to reinvent the wheel. They are social and make contributions through discussions. Even at home, there is no more "secret garden": children ask questions of their parents. They often like to know why things happen and how they happen. Namibian children have not always been encouraged to ask questions of their parents, so questioning is encouraged by the new education system, which some parents feel is contributing to a lack of discipline among learners in schools and at home. Education is an important part of the social reconstruction that is taking place in Namibia today.

Notes

1. Tombo is a home brew made from sorghum. It is usually made by women and sold in "cuca shops" (local liquor shops). It is still one of the few possibilities for many women to earn money.

2. Augustinneum was the first teacher education college for blacks and was located in central Namibia. Many of the present leaders in Namibia were educated at Augustinneum.

3. SWAPO, the South-West Africa People's Organization, was the major resistance movement against South African occupation of Namibia.

References

Cohen, Cynthia. 1994. Administering Education in Namibia: The Colonial...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• Chapter 1 A Story Told by a Namibian Educator
• Chapter 2 Education for All: The Namibian Experience
• Chapter 3 Teacher Education Reform: Toward Reflective Practice
• Chapter 4 Toward Learner-Centered and Democratic Teacher Education
• Chapter 5 Critical Inquiry in Pre-Service Teacher Education: Some Initial Steps Toward Critical, Inquiring, and Reflective Professionals in Namibian Teacher Education
• Chapter 6 Developing Learner Understanding Through Learner-Centered Activities
• Chapter 7 Working with Reluctant Male Learners in Grade 10 Geography Lessons
• Chapter 8 Improving the Participation of Girls in My Grade Nine Agricultural Lessons
• Chapter 9 Practice Based Inquiry in In-service Teacher Education: Can It Effect Major Change at School?
• Chapter 10 Critical-Practitioner Inquiry and Staff Development for Teacher Educators
• Chapter 11 Writing Problems in Oshiwambo
• Chapter 12 Promoting Active Participation in the Education Theory and Practice Classroom
• Chapter 13 Developing Student Teachers' Writing Skills: An Attempt to Put Process Writing into Practice
• Chapter 14 An Investigation into the Use of Peer Coaching as a Tool for Teacher Reflection
• Chapter 15 Developing Cross-Curricular Themes from Storytelling in Grade One