The Herald
Opinion
By Monica Cheru-Mpambawashe
12 April 2010
Harare — “EDUCATION for all” has always been one of the war cries of the Government since 1980.
Today, 30 years later, several international bodies including the United Nations agree that Zimbabwe has one of the highest literacy rates in the world. The economic meltdown and other problems associated with the sanctions regime over the past few years have unfortunately reversed many achievements in the battle to bring quality education to all.
However, the introduction of the multi-currency system has seen many schools recover as they can now afford to buy textbooks, retain staff and maintain and improve their facilities.
But obscured in this apparent boom, are some children in medium-income suburbs of Harare, like Hatfield and Waterfalls, who are struggling to get an education.
Chipo (not her real name) wakes up at six every morning. She has a plate of porridge before walking to school. On most days this is the only food that she has until she comes back home at two. Lunch then comprises of a few slices of plain bread and a cup of black tea. At school, she is relieved that no one sends her back home to collect money for school fees.
It is just not there.
After her simple lunch, she washes her single uniform and prays that it will not rain so that it can dry before morning. She then has to do her homework before evening, because if there is a power cut, she will not have a light to work by. Supper is often sadza and plain green vegetables. Chipo then goes to sleep in the single room which she shares with her widowed vendor mother, her two unemployed aunts and several cousins of who are also in school.
None of the children have had their fees paid since the beginning of last year.
Chipo is just one of the sizeable numbers of almost destitute children in the middle-income suburb of Hatfield in Harare. From a collation of the figures for the three primary and two secondary schools in the area, of the total enrolment of about 4000 children, almost 600 need assistance with their school fees.
The Government program of Basic Education Assistance Module is helping about 100 and 150 depend on churches and other well-wishers for their education.
Chipo is one of the rest, who limp along, never knowing if they will be able to complete the term while still at school or if they will be forced to drop out. Chipo’s mother, fears for her daughter’s future. “I just cannot get the money to pay for her fees. I am afraid that if she stops going to school she will become a prostitute.” She lamented.
The BEAM pamphlet states that the primary is to “reduce the number of children dropping out of . . . school due to economic hardships.”
The pamphlet also shows that BEAM is supported by Unicef with funding and technical assistance from seven large international organisations including the European Commission and Sida.
But the statistics on the ground show that the programme is overwhelmed and the net is failing to catch a large number of children, especially in the urban areas.
At the unveiling of the Education Transition fund to resuscitate BEAM late last year, the minister of Labour and Social Welfare, Paurina Mpariwa revealed that BEAM requires about US$35 million to cover every applicant.
But in a Press statement a few days later, her deputy, Tracey Mutinhiri, revealed that only US$20 million had been secured for funds for term one 2010.
That US$15million discrepancy is what stands between Chipo and others like her and a certain future.
In March 2009, the minister of Education, Arts, Sports and Culture, Senator David Coltart invited parents and guardians of children in the high densities and rural areas to apply for aid through BEAM.
“They must apply for a means test and we will look into their case,” he stated.
From this statement, it can be inferred that the assumption was that children from low and medium density suburbs were classified as not needing aid.
The minister went on to reveal that the schools are graded into three categories, p1/s1, p2/s2 and p3/s3. The p denotes primary and the s is for secondary.
Former group A and private schools fall into the first and second categories.
These are considered to be less vulnerable than their rural and farm counterparts in the third category.
The distribution of funds reflects this presumed status quo and the urban medium and low densities end up with a relatively smaller piece of the pie.
The BEAM pamphlet also states that a local selection committee chooses from all the applicants as to who will receive aid. The criterion for selection includes “The source of income and health status of the head of household/breadwinner.”
Chipo’s mother was adjudged to be an entrepreneur who at 33 is relatively young. She does not suffer from any chronic illness.
The chairperson of one School Development Committee in the area who declined to be named said that they are struggling to meet their targets as a school because of the poor children in the area.
“We make budgets based on 100 percent payment of levies. Because some of that money does not come through, we are failing to buy enough textbooks for all the children. The parents who have paid become disgruntled and accuse the administration of misappropriating funds,”he complained.
On one hand, the ministry has expressly forbidden schools from sending away pupils who can not afford to pay the fees and levies. On the other hand, BEAM and the other good Samaritans are not covering all the applicants.
The relatively higher fees also mean that the same amount of money from BEAM covers fewer children in these schools than it would cover in the rural area.
“A hundred dollars at a rural school where each child pays $10 per term educates ten children. Here it can only pay for one and a half children,” said one school head.
Tuition fees are set by the state and currently stand at $10 per pupil per term for former group A primary schools, and $20 per child in the secondary schools.
The levies are decided upon by majority vote of those who have children and wards attending the school.
As most people in the area are fairly affluent, the levy figures are fairly high, ranging from US$30 to US$120 dollars per child per term.
“It does not appear to be much to those who are earning good salaries. But I make a profit of less than US$40 a week. From that I must feed six people, pay the rent and pay utilities. There is just nothing left over to pay school fees.” Chipo’s mother put forward her case.
“I think we need to screen intake on an income basis. Those who can not afford to live here must go to the rural areas where they pay less. “I do not see why my child should have no books while those who have not paid a single cent enjoy the benefits of my sweat.
“I am not rich and I sacrifice to pay these fees,” charged a woman who identified herself as Mrs Sibanda whose child is in a primary school in the area.
However, all the schools indicated that this is not a viable solution as they are bound to register children on a first come first served basis without discrimination.
That is how they end up with children who cannot afford to pay the levies that the school development committees will have voted for.
The Greek Orthodox Church opened a private college in January. A church official revealed that of the enrolment figure of 220, 91 pupils are church members and have all their fees paid for through the church. Chipo is one of the 40other pupils at the school who are failing to raise school fees.
The rest of the children pay fees like in any other school, but the church has gone further and is even assisting some pupils who are not members of their congregation. But the figures are diluted by the fact that some of the children are coming from as far afield as Mbare and Chitungwiza. This reduces the number of children in the area who are actually getting help.
Prospect Primary, Hatfield Primary and High schools are all state institutions.
St John’s Retreat was established by the Anglican Church, but the church says they no longer have an involvement in the running of the school.
The expansion of BEAM to take in their plight appears to be the only answer for Chipo and all other children like her; the destitute suffering in the middle of plenty.