Rodney

Because I run the after school program at the  Bernhard Nordkamp Center, I spend my mornings helping in other parts of Katutura. The BNC should not have any children there in the mornings, as Catholic AIDS Action has seen to it that all registered AIDS orphans and other vulnerable children are all enrolled in public schools in the community.

Yet there are always kids who slip through the cracks, and this year, as school began in mid January, I realized that Rodney was not going to school. But this was nothing new.

 Rodney lives with his abusive, alcoholic mother, his well meaning but overwhelmed grandmother and a host of derelict uncles and cousins and several neglected offspring of theirs. He also has a little brother. The house is run down and there is no money to pay for water or electricity.

For the past three years Rodney has dropped out of school. He spent his days hanging out in the streets and wandering aimlessly around the community. Every year the social workers would enroll him in school, and within a month he would have dropped out.

I used to think that he had a mental disability, but as the years passed, I realized that he was a clever child. Clearly he could not function in the traditional educational system in Namibia.  Rodney is not a mean kid. He is tough because that is the only way to survive in his harsh environment. The weak get slaughtered by the bullies. Rodney could hold his own and often got into fights, but he was not cruel and he was not a bully.

 One morning I went to the center early, and there was Rodney just sitting, looking dejected. I asked him why he was not going to school this year, and he said that he was too old. They would not take him back and he would never be able to go to school. His educational career was over at the age of twelve.

I told him that I would put him in school if he REALLY wanted to learn. I asked him about math and reading, and he sadly admitted that he did not know the alphabet and he could only add and subtract up to ten.

So, off we walked to the school where he had dropped out the past three years. We entered the lobby and the receptionist and principal were standing there. I told them I wanted to enroll Rodney. They told me there was no room for him, and besides, he was too old to enter grade one but academically he was below grade one level. As they sat there telling me it would be impossible for him to return to school, a short, fat lady approached us with a scowl on her face. She took one look at Rodney and said, “Oh No! Not YOU!! Don’t tell me YOU want to come to school again!! Don’t waste our time! You are the biggest failure and I can’t stand another year of seeing you come, make empty promises and then drop out. Just go home!” I turned and looked at Rodney who was hanging his head. He said to me under his breath, “that’s my teacher from last year and she is MEAN! Nobody likes her.”

“No kidding, Rodney! I would have dropped out too if she was my teacher!” I whispered back. 

We left the school in a hurry. We went to four other schools and none would take him. Feeling rejected and cast out, Rodney and I returned to the center. I told him I would home school him and teach him more than any teacher in Namibia. I told him that he could study every morning with me and he would learn how to read in less than a year and not only add and subtract, but multiply and divide, too.

For two weeks he got up every morning and waited for me at the center. It was quiet and we would sit for three hours without interruption. Rodney was so eager to learn. He was focused and determined to memorize his alphabet sounds and put them together to sound out words. He enjoyed math and requested addition and subtraction equations to solve. He proved to me, beyond a doubt, that he deserved to be in school.

After two weeks I told him that I would not take no for an answer at his school. I bought him a school uniform and backpack, notebooks and all the school supplies he needed. He got his hair cut and he put on the school uniform. The “New Rodney” and I returned to his school and marched right into the principal’s office.

I said, “Excuse me Madam, but I have just spent the last two weeks home schooling Rodney. He has shown great desire and discipline. I am ready to pay his school fees and do whatever it takes to get him back into this school.”

She looked up and could not believe that this handsome young boy in this brand new school uniform was the same street kid I had brought in two weeks previously. I continued, “It is obvious that Rodney cannot be placed in the third grade class with the teacher he had last year. It will not work and he will drop out. Can he please be put into a second grade class?”

She said, “He is too old for grade two or grade three, but we do have a brand new class, a “Special Class” with a new teacher. Maybe she will take Rodney. I will bring her in here.”

We waited nervously. Then the most lovely, gentle woman came into the room with a big smile on her face. “Oh, what a handsome boy you are in your school uniform!” She said. My name is Miss Ella and I would love for you to come into my class.”

She picked up a blank piece of paper and held it in front of Rodney. “What do you see on this paper, Rodney?” She asked. He replied, “Nothing.” She said, “That is EXACTLY what I want to know about your past…..Nothing. What happened in the past is over and you are a new boy with a new future for this new school year. You will be in a new classroom with a new teacher and you can begin right now.” She took her arm and put it across his shoulders, cast me a big smile of reassurance, and marched off to her classroom with Rodney under her wing.

But getting Rodney into school was the easy part. Keeping him in school would be the miracle of the century. I knew he would need love, encouragement, and support on a daily basis. For his first two weeks in school I visited his classroom and checked in with his teacher. I told him that he could not be late, or absent a single day. “I don’t care if you are sick or if your uniform is dirty or if you have not eaten breakfast, you cannot EVER miss school, not even once.” He was walking next to me as I held his hand in mine and my bicycle in my other hand. He looked over at my bicycle and said, “Do you think, in my life, I can ever have a bicycle like yours? If I keep going to school and pass grade ten, will you give me your bicycle?”

I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “If you go to school every day this year, and never miss, I will buy you a bicycle just like mine on the last day of school. But, you can’t miss for any reason. If you are sick, too bad. No bicycle. If you come late or leave early, no bicycle. There are no excuses. None. Either you have perfect attendance and you get the bike, or you miss one day and you get nothing. Deal?”

“Deal”, said Rodney, and we shook on it.

That was two months ago, and he is still going strong. The kids tease him, provoke him and try to get him to fight. They see the love and encouragement I give him and they are jealous. I keep telling him to be strong on the inside and to ignore the kids, but he really struggles.

Last week was Easter. The schools were closed for five days.  Rodney went with his brother, mother and grandmother to visit some of his relatives who live out in the countryside. I was concerned that he would have difficulty getting back and feared that he would miss school, but to my surprise he was at the center a day early. I asked him if he enjoyed being at the farm. He said, “Yes Mary, but now I have a BIG problem. I brought my uniform trousers out to the farm to wash them because there is no soap in our house. I washed them and hung them on the line to dry. Just then a big truck came along and the man said he could take me back to Windhoek for free, and I just jumped into the truck to get back in time for school. When I was almost home I remembered my trousers were still hanging on the line. But if I went back to get them, I would not be able to return and I would miss school. I am here but my trousers are not. Are you mad at me?”

I gave him a big hug and told him not to worry. I wrote a note to his teacher and assured her that he would be back in uniform the next day. We went to the store and got him another pair of trousers. “I will go to school in my pajamas if they steal my uniform,” he said.  I leaned over and whispered in his ear the two words I know in Damara, his mother tongue. “Namse da”.

“I love you too”, he replied as he slipped his hand into mine and we walked out of the store together.   

Comments

[eileen]

Alas, when your knees are so shot you are no longer able to bicycle around Namibia, and your eyes so blind from all the dust of the desert, Rodney will be able to write your stories for you as you dictate to him. Keep the tales coming and the love going. xoxo

[Kicki]

Oh dear!

I don´t have anything to say but just that - I LOVE YOU TOOO.
Keep it up, there will be even better.

Kicki - the swed.

[Kenny]

hi marybeth

I read this and i get warm, i remembered Rodney always being there at the mornings and you and the volueenters where there and did a incredible good job with him. Im really glad that its going so good for him.
I miss you guys...

Much love to you all at the center from Kenny

[Janet]

What a great story, MaryBeth!! wow...

[Andre Morin]

Got me crying! A.

[Cyrlene Claasen]

Hi Mary Beth!

How are you? Is Rodney still going strong? You are so wonderful. Thank you for all the love.

Cyrlene

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