The year was 1965. I had just joined what was then known as Tandala Lutheran Church Boys’ Boarding Middle School — quite a mouthful — perched on one of the higher slopes of the Mount Livingstone (Kipengere) ranges, in what is now Makete District, Njombe Region.
I was one of only three pupils, out of forty-five, who joined Class V at Tandala from my Madilu (now Wangama) Lower Primary School. More pupils had successfully passed the national Class IV final examinations, but there were not enough vacancies for them to proceed.
It was indeed an exciting development for me — then a young boy of eleven years. Among other side perks of this achievement was that, for the first time in my life, I would be the proud owner of a pair of black Bata Scout shoes — part of the school uniform. I was, without a doubt, eager to go out and conquer the world.
But our teachers at Tandala had more down-to-earth ideas. Apart from teaching the usual academic subjects — English, geography, history, mathematics, Kiswahili and divinity — they introduced us to practical subjects such as farming, carpentry, cookery, sewing, irrigation and fishing in the many freshwater streams flowing from the higher catchment areas.
I must admit, I tried all of them. Apart from the classroom subjects, I did not perform particularly well in most of these practical lessons — the worst being carpentry. For some reason, my efforts always resulted in abstract wooden shapes instead of the chairs and stools we were instructed to make.
Nonetheless, by the end of my three-year stint there, I was able to successfully plant and grow cabbages, carrots, onions, tomatoes, beetroot, and many other vegetables from a small patch at home. I could also operate a sewing machine confidently, cook meals for the whole family, and even engage in fishing trips in the many rivers of Njombe.
What I am trying to say here is that that educational system was designed to produce not only academically gifted scholars but also young people who were ready to go out and face, head-on, the many challenges of our society.
There was nothing quite like that when I joined secondary school, nor in the higher educational institutions I later attended.
As a result, many of my generation ended up depending on others to perform even the most basic tasks for us. I dare say the current generation is even worse off.
Many young people today think farming is for the poor and carpentry is for failures. They fail to see the irony when they buy furniture from China made from wood sourced from the Njombe and Mufindi forests — or when they purchase farm produce from distant lands while our own Bongoland valleys and plains lie rich and fertile yet uncultivated.
I am tempted to urge our youth — and indeed our educational authorities — to learn from my Tandala experience. We need to establish and strengthen special educational institutions and improve the curricula to produce citizens who, apart from excelling in their academic and professional fields, are also equipped with the resilience and practical skills to navigate the world’s challenges.
I rest my case.
