Back to what I feel as home at 94 school, where we are always met by a friendly greeting from Lisa or Belinda collecting the precious 1 cedi entrance fee and ‘Sunday’ the tuck shop lady, who is by far becoming my favourite person in Ghana.
Having completed the research I needed to do at 94, I ventured into the calamity of the nursery classes. Being there for a head count, 69 children had been registered and shuffled into the first nursery class, to which not all had chairs and there was only one table for work to be done at.
Luckily for the kids that they spend most of their day singing. The early years rote style learning involves nursery rhymes being chanted again again until each child knows every last word within the rhyme. Having been through a few Ghanaian rhymes including and interesting and somewhat inappropriate one about shooting birds, some familiar British ones were chanted out to me. The kids and the teacher were now pushing for me to incorporate a new song into their repitoire and the only thing that came to mind was the ‘hokey cokey.’ With all 69 kids standing and the teacher waiting in anticipation to see how I would handle instructing the army of tiny noise makers, I began. ‘You put your left leg in’ a few shuffled forward, perhaps I wasn’t quite loud enough. ‘YOU PUT YOUR LEFT LEG IN’ more began to shuffle towards me. It was unclear whether they just wanted to see an obruni dance or whether they didn’t quite understand the song, but I had to go through it alone 3 times before even the teacher began to catch on. Once the teacher had mastered the movements we were in full flow, and after a few alterations to the lines (you put your right arm up and down, rather than in and out, to avoid a full on brawl) the majority of the children were happily dancing along chanting out the words up, down, in and out when they felt appropriate. After a full session of the ‘hokey cokey’ the kids were happy, the teacher asked for a copy of the song and I was pleased I could contribute something to the class.
Luckily for the kids that they spend most of their day singing. The early years rote style learning involves nursery rhymes being chanted again again until each child knows every last word within the rhyme. Having been through a few Ghanaian rhymes including and interesting and somewhat inappropriate one about shooting birds, some familiar British ones were chanted out to me. The kids and the teacher were now pushing for me to incorporate a new song into their repitoire and the only thing that came to mind was the ‘hokey cokey.’ With all 69 kids standing and the teacher waiting in anticipation to see how I would handle instructing the army of tiny noise makers, I began. ‘You put your left leg in’ a few shuffled forward, perhaps I wasn’t quite loud enough. ‘YOU PUT YOUR LEFT LEG IN’ more began to shuffle towards me. It was unclear whether they just wanted to see an obruni dance or whether they didn’t quite understand the song, but I had to go through it alone 3 times before even the teacher began to catch on. Once the teacher had mastered the movements we were in full flow, and after a few alterations to the lines (you put your right arm up and down, rather than in and out, to avoid a full on brawl) the majority of the children were happily dancing along chanting out the words up, down, in and out when they felt appropriate. After a full session of the ‘hokey cokey’ the kids were happy, the teacher asked for a copy of the song and I was pleased I could contribute something to the class.
Leaving nursery I had planned to find Miss Sofia and Miss Elisabeth, but instead stumbled upon a Primary 6 Fantse class. Jumping at the opportunity to learn some of the native language, I parked myself at the front of the class, notepad and pen at the ready for any core lines I could take down for future uses. The P6’s were slightly more advanced than I, and as the teacher saw my confusion, he kindly began a refresher course including all the essentials; how are you? What is your name? My name is… I am going… and so on. After chanting away with the class I felt confident in a few phrases and so accepted the challenge of being quizzed by the students in what I had just learnt. I cautiously answered ‘Oye’ (I’m fine) when asked How are you in fantse, and also managed to tell them my name was Tutu without uttering a word of English. With some key phrases learnt, perhaps rote can help in the beginning stages of learning.
As Ken had popped in for the afternoon I spent a bit of time enquiring about the age of each of the schools, and considering 94 had only opened in January I was amazed by how full the school was, having both A and B classes for each primary year. The chain of Omega schools had been expanding rapidly since it’s first school Bortianor opened a mere 18 months ago. The Omega chain must be held as a seriously reputable establishment to take in as many as 700 children in only 3 months. With Ken proposing another 4 schools in the next 6 months, the Omega train is going at full speed ahead, I can only say I hope that the quality stays consistent and that the schools are only opened when fully stocked with the sufficient resources, equipment and teachers.
After a successful school day, we were greeted by the locals as usual, although Miss Sofia received a new and I feel completely justified nickname of ‘Sister Ghost’ clearly Obruni just wasn’t quite cutting it anymore. Needless to say, Sister Ghost was not happy by the comment and has now incorporated a one hour tanning session into her daily routine to try and rectify her ghostly complexion.
Our after school trip to Shoprite provided me with one simple equation,
Shoprite = Obruni central!
Clearly us foreign folk need our tesco metros, big asda, or morrisons, where the prices are set and clearly identified, as we cannot quite handle the market madness.
The evening brought even more excitement, as we could see lightening thrashing through the clouds in the distance while we tucked into our jollof. But it wasn’t until we headed up to bed that the real storm began, with loud bursts of thunder and for the first time since we’d been in Ghana…rain. In a ridiculous state of excitement I ran to the window to witness this almost epic event in my eyes. After I’d stared outside and fully appreciated the rain I returned to bed, and slept well in the knowledge that it can rain in Ghana just like it does at home.
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