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Stories about Basic Education

Hidden From Sight for 30 Years

Article posted by Llewellyn Juby
Tagged with: East Asia, Basic Education

Friday afternoon is our weekly shopping day, and I had planned to finish a complicated woodwork project. It was not to be. Battsetseg, our project manager from our IEOPD (Improving Educational Opportunities for People With Disabilities), approached me and asked me to please come along to their sign language training for 20 deaf students in School #29... … read article >

She wanted me to meet one of the students. I knew that this must be something special she wanted me to experience. I did not need a second invitation. At 3:30, I pointed the old Land Cruiser into the wall-to-wall traffic and fought my way to the district where the school was located.

Schools #29 and #116 are located next to each other and work with the deaf and the blind, respectively. The four-story gray building with cement-brick walls resembled a prison rather than a school. I walked up those uneven concrete steps to the third floor to the classroom that had been assigned to our project. As I stepped into the classroom, all 20 students touched their foreheads, then put their fists to their chests and pointed their open palms toward me in greeting from their silent worlds. A smile was evident on each face. Private conversations took place in sign language between the students as we waited for the teachers. Just a week ago, these children lived in isolated worlds; now they had been brought together and given a sign language to communicate with each other.

I made a little speech in English that was translated into Mongolian by Battsetseg and then into Mongolian sign language by one of the teachers. I challenged the students to make the best of the rest of their life’s journey now that they could communicate. We gave each one a certificate, and I shook each precious hand that is now being put to such valuable use in communicating. I took a photo of the group, each student holding their certificate with one hand and pointing their other hand with loose fingers to the ceiling and wobbling it back and forth, which is sign language for clapping and joy. They were so proud of those certificates.

Battsetseg then asked them who the best student had been. The students all pointed to a thin, pale, and emaciated man about 30 years of age. Was this the student she wanted me to meet? Tsendjav’s story unfolded as I spoke to his parents alone afterward. He was one of triplets that his parents were so proud of. While still a baby, he was given an antibiotic for an infection. His parents claimed that it made him deaf. For 30 years these respectable parents—the father is a Mongolian language professor at the University of Mongolia, and the mother is a teacher at an elite school—hid this child from every visitor to avoid the embarrassment of anyone knowing that they had a child with a disability. Every time anyone knocked at the door, they would hold their index finger across their lips, and he would go scampering to the bedroom and remain out of sight and quiet till the visitors had left. Not a single person ever knew that they had another son who was deaf. They loved him, but they did not know how to communicate with him. The only sign he knew was the index finger across the lips.

One week ago, the parents, who had heard about the ADRA sign language course, plucked up enough courage for the first time in 30 years to take Tsendjav out of their apartment. The first day in class, he would not lift his head and made no sign of taking anything in.

But I saw him this afternoon, just five days later. He was at the center of many conversations. This week he learned all 35 letters of the Mongolian alphabet for the first time in his life. He could not even count when he came on Monday. Oh, the joy of his parents as they clutched the precious 600-word sign language dictionary, their key to communication with their son. Soon we hope to have a new 3,000-word dictionary in their hands. Tsendjav came up and shook my hand, gave me a rose, and pulled my head toward his so he could press his cheek against mine as a sign of respect and thankfulness. I had a lump in my throat, and my eyes misted over. This was a child who had been brought out into the light for the first time in his lifetime. How many more are still hidden?

The parents thanked us over and over. The father is going to give us a list of 3,000 of the most actively used words in Mongolian so we can corroborate our list with his. I challenged him to become the first professor of sign language in Mongolia.

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Headmaster Zakaria

Article posted by ADRA
Tagged with: South Asia, Basic Education, Emergency Management

I am representing ADRA at a ceremony to mark the beginning of a school distribution. The school has been cleaned, painted, and repaired by ADRA. The students are back, ready to continue their education. ADRA, in partnership with another NGO, purchased 36,000 schoolbags with pencils, notebooks, and rulers. … read article >

We are at SMP4 Junior High School, and 545 students are lined up in the school yard listening to speeches from ADRA, a representative of the district education department, and their headmaster, Mr. Zainun Zakaria.

The headmaster delivers a powerful motivational speech to his students, urging them to be strong. They are survivors and should not let the tsunami ruin their lives. They need to look forward and rebuild their future through education. He reminds them of the two bombs that destroyed Japan at the end of World War II. The students should look to the Japanese to see how successfully they rebuilt their country after their disaster. It was through education and determination that Japan rebuilt a strong economy.

He wants his students to get on with life. He believes that through school the children can return to some sort of normality in the midst of personal tragedy. They have this opportunity because of the work ADRA is doing in his school. He expresses his gratefulness for the many NGOs and in particular ADRA. He urges his students to learn from ADRA and the other NGOs that have come from the other side of the world. He tells them that they are important. The world cares about them and their future. In return, they must do well in school and rebuild their lives.

These are strong words for children who have recently survived earthquakes and a tsunami. After the formalities, the children receive their new bags. I catch up with Mr. Zakaria. He shares that he has worked 34 years as the headmaster of this school. He pulls up his trousers to show me the marks, scars, and discoloration on his legs. “Tsunami—tsunami,” he proclaims. I quickly get a translator so I can understand what he wants to tell me.

On December 26, 2004, Mr. Zakaria had attended teacher training at the school and was on his way home. As he got to the bridge in town, the earth shook. He quickly jumped out of his car and lay on the ground, holding his arms around his head. When the large earthquake stopped, he hurried back to his house to make sure his wife and daughter were fine. Confirming that his family was all right, he went to the mosque to gather information and see if someone needed help. Not many people were in the mosque, so he returned home. On the way, he met people screaming about the rising water levels.

He ran to find his daughter and tell her to go to her grandmother, who lived farther down the coast. The daughter, like any teenager, wanted to change her clothes and pack a bag. Both Mr. Zakaria and his wife urged her to leave on her motorbike. Finally, she obeyed her parents and drove off. His wife ran over to the neighbor’s two-story house, bringing a small bag of documents. Mr. Zakaria watched his family leave. The water level was rising; by now it had reached the side of his house.

He got on a motorcycle and tried to drive off, but the bike stalled because the water level was too high. Everything happened so fast. Suddenly he found the water carrying him away. He tried to grab hold of something, anything. He grabbed on to a jeep. The car was tossed around, and he was back in the water. Struggling, he tried to grab hold of a building, but the current was too powerful and he was swept away. After an hour of struggling, he was finally able to grab the roots of a Beringin tree. As he pulled himself up onto the tree, he found that he was not alone. Also clinging to the Beringin tree were a civet with three of her kittens, two mice, and a chicken.

For hours, they clung to the tree, not seeing any other living being. The water was filled with dead people. It was pulling back to the sea at a stronger and faster pace than it had come in. All Mr. Zakaria could do was sit and wait. The sun was scorching hot and burning him, but he thought only of his wife and daughter. Where were they? What was happening to them?

After four hours, he decided to try to reach a patch of dry land that he saw in the distance. He removed his shirt and trousers. He tied his trousers around his waist and his shirt around his head. He knew that his clothes would slow him down. He estimated that it would take about 15 minutes to swim to land, but the current was strong and he was weak. He swam from branch to branch. He found a board and pushed it ahead a bit and then swam to it. While he was trying to swim, he was afraid that another wave would come.

At some point, he realized that he had lost his clothes. He felt pain in his leg and saw that it was cut in many places. Finally, after an hour and a half, his feet touched dry land. Mr. Zakaria was tired and worn-out, but determined to find out what had happened to his family. He staggered to his relative’s house, which was situated in an area that was unaffected. There he was able to rest for some time and eat some food. His thoughts were with his daughter and his wife. He was particularly concerned for his daughter; had she done as he had told her? If so, he knew that there was little chance that she had survived, as her grandmother’s house was close to the waterfront.

Regaining some strength, he started his search. He walked around the city and saw destruction and dead people. He ended up at the mosque, and there he finally met his daughter and wife. It was around 4:00 p.m.; he had seen them last at 8:30 a.m. For once, he was glad that his daughter had done what she thought was best and had not followed his directions. Had she obeyed him, she would not be alive.

Mr. Zakaria still smiles; he knows that he is lucky and is grateful that his family is safe. All the material positions they have are the daughter’s motorbike and the small bag his wife took. However, this is not important; they have each other.

After hearing his story, I understand that his strong speech to his students was not out of insensitivity to the children’s experience, but out of care and to motivate them to continue life. Seeing the work ADRA is doing to rehabilitate the children’s school and give them back a future, I too smile with Mr. Zakaria and promise that ADRA will not forget him or his school.

Greg Young, Recruitment Director, Human Resources Bureau, ADRA International

Audio posted by Greg Young
Tagged with: South Asia, Primary Health Care, Basic Education

In northern Thailand, children from hillside communities are victims of more than poverty and want. They face something darker and more menacing—human trafficking. These children are exploited and forced to work in the sinister world of the sex industry. Recently Greg Young, country director for ADRA Thailand outlined the problem of “sexploitation” and shared what ADRA is doing to deal with the issue. listen to audio > | download transcript >

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