One Morning in a School in Assam
Pratham
1:02:00 PM
By Dr.Rukmini Banerji
The volunteer was a young girl, shy with adults but
very good with children. Her name was Hiramoni. She moved amongst the group –
gently helping some and encouraging others. Children were doing writing
exercises on the floor. First, they made a list of words on a given topic and
then each wrote sentences. Together the whole thing became like a small essay.
The children quite enjoyed writing. From the speed and the enthusiasm with
which they wrote you could tell this was an activity that was a favourite. Soon
the entire floor became full and overcrowded with words and sentences.
More people joined our conversation. We had moved to the
verandah outside the hall. The Pratham volunteer was now sitting on the floor
and children were crowding around her. I think they had begun to play a new
word game. “She is very good” I said to the Headmaster. He did not look
surprised. In a matter of fact way he said, “We chose a very good volunteer for
our school. One of the best. She is Hira”. Indeed, in her quiet way she
sparkled as a diamond as she worked. As a young girl she had been a student of
this school and in fact her mother was a member of the school committee.
I looked around at the well
painted hall and complimented the people standing there. One of the lady
teachers said to me. “It has to be good. We made it”. This teacher too had been
a student in this school many years ago when she was a girl. And over time had
worked hard to come back to this school to teach. She showed me a room that had
recently been built for the midday meal – it was already looking dilapidated.
Some years ago, early one
morning I went to a school in Kamrup district in Assam. The school was set in
an open space off the narrow village road, just beyond the naamghor (village
temple). School had not yet started but lots of children were already there. A
Pratham volunteer was busy with children. Like many other schools in upper
Assam, it was one big hall. There were a lot of children already busy with
reading and writing activities. Girls with neatly tied ribbons in their hair
and boys freshly bathed and ready for school. Mothers had come to drop children
off and were chatting in the courtyard outside. From the number of children who
were already there, it seemed like almost all the children of the school had
already arrived.
The volunteer was a young girl, shy with adults but
very good with children. Her name was Hiramoni. She moved amongst the group –
gently helping some and encouraging others. Children were doing writing
exercises on the floor. First, they made a list of words on a given topic and
then each wrote sentences. Together the whole thing became like a small essay.
The children quite enjoyed writing. From the speed and the enthusiasm with
which they wrote you could tell this was an activity that was a favourite. Soon
the entire floor became full and overcrowded with words and sentences.
A
gentleman came to the door of the hall and gestured to one of the children. I
asked him what he thought of the early morning activity. He smiled and his son
smiled as well. They both enjoyed this extra hour before school. I got talking
to the gentleman. It turned out that he was a government school teacher. He
lived in this village and so his son went to this school but he taught in a
school in the neighbouring village. He liked coming here with his son before he
went to his school.
I looked around at the well
painted hall and complimented the people standing there. One of the lady
teachers said to me. “It has to be good. We made it”. This teacher too had been
a student in this school many years ago when she was a girl. And over time had
worked hard to come back to this school to teach. She showed me a room that had
recently been built for the midday meal – it was already looking dilapidated.
The room had been built by the department. “We wanted a nice good room for our
children” said the teacher. “And so we all got together and put in some of our
money and then the school’s money and built it. All the labour was from the
village too”. As she spoke it seemed that this was the most natural thing to
do. Of course her child studied in this school as well.
The bell rang. It was time for
actual school to start. I still remember the day – it was a day in early
September. Teachers Day.
