Family Hardships – Part 1

Throughout these past few weeks of registering students I have had to work with parents to figure out how they are going to pay the tuition for their children. I have gotten multiple emotions when dealing with the initial registration: shock, anger, cunning, aggression, despair, resignation, and defeat.

Today I met with a woman who came in to settle up her remaining account from last year, and to register her kids for this year. As we looked at what she owed and added it to this coming year’s total, the cloud of unbelief settled upon her. The sum was staggering; her husband has no job and lies to her about where he spends their money (e.g. when he is supposed to pay for the school), and as mother and housekeeper she has no stable income either. As she looked at me she asked if there was anything we could do to help her. I responded by asking her how much she was able to put forth. Bowing her head, she told me half of the total (including what she owed). Going through my mind I was thinking of how much of a cut the school would have to absorb. When I suggested a total that better accounted for the money she still owed, her shoulders sagged and her eyes started to fill with tears. There was no money. With such a case, I knew that the school would take the loss. As she handed over the little she had to start off the year, it was clear that she had scrounged, giving everything in small crumpled bills.

What is unfortunate is that this woman was not an unusual case. Her story especially touched me for some reason, but I am faced with decisions every day on how much of a reduction I should give to families. This is what pulls me to my interest in educational development: the importance of giving everyone a chance at a good education. It is clear that this mother knew how vital it is for a student to learn, and that if left to the public sector, her children would be lost to the masses. Why should her children not be given a chance? In Yaoundé (and probably most other urban areas), public primary schools usually average about 90 kids a classroom. In this setting, I can’t imagine children under the age of 10 being able to develop, flourish, and create a solid foundation for their future support of their growing country.

Not only is this school about providing opportunities for children, but it is also a mechanism for encouraging women and mothers to take a greater interest in education. While I may not be “business savvy” in my recruitment and registration methods, our school is providing an essential service to the community. We are looking towards preparing the future generation of leaders, workers, and citizens. Idealistic as it may be, David is constantly talking about how the good formation of students now will allow Cameroon to develop in the future. As Americans, we don’t usually think of our education as an investment in our country; it is an investment in oneself. While this too plays a role in Cameroonian parental motives, there is also an undertone of acknowledgement of the betterment of their larger world and nation.

These possibilities drive me to keep working. It gives me the hope that someone will recognize this goal in our school and help us to continue providing more opportunities.