Scholastic Work
There are many people who, not being quite up-to-date in missionary
literature, have an idea that the work of a missionary in such places
as Africa is to stand under the shade of a huge sun-hat, umbrella, and
palm-tree, in the broiling heat of the day, and preach to a small crowd
of open-mouthed astonished semi-savages. The picture does not attract
them, and they dismiss the subject from their minds with “I could never
be a missionary.”
Well, although I have found in Africa the identical topee, the umbrella,
palm-tree, the broiling sun, and a few gaping crowds, yet the picture
is a painful distortion of the truth. If there is one thing that a
missionary has less to do with than any other, it is preaching—at
least, that is so in Uganda. He rather assumes the rôles of teacher,
schoolmaster, builder, carpenter, doctor, nurse, and everything else, for
he has learned that the African cannot be a saint without being a scholar
and an artisan, any more than men of other nations can.
Besides the more direct spiritual work and the medical work that are
being carried on in Toro, there are also industrial and educational
departments. This former branch has not been developed to any extent,
owing to the lack of workers, but, as far as he is able, King Daudi
Kasagama personally superintends it. Being most anxious that his people
should be instructed in useful trades, some years ago he sent a youth,
Iburahimu, into Mengo to be apprenticed for two years to carpentering at
the Industrial Mission of the Church Missionary Society. When the period
had transpired and the lad had served his time, Daudi wrote to England
ordering Rs.300 worth of tools, and, close to his own house, the King had
a large suitable shed erected. Iburahimu was then installed as Carpenter
to the Royal Household, and twenty youths, who had signed for a two
years’ apprenticeship, were placed under him for instruction.
[Illustration: A SCHOOL IN TORO.]
Any serving lad of the King who was employed on no particular service,
and refused to be taught, was put in the chain gang for three months; for
His Majesty was determined to put a price on loafing in his household.
The entire educational work of Uganda is being carried on in Church
Schools. Receiving no subsidy from the British Government, up to the
present there has been no question of Education bills, and consequently
there are no passive resisters among the Baganda!
The School system is, I believe, the one adopted by the Americans in
their board schools, where boys and girls learn together, and no social
distinctions are recognized, but in Uganda, besides non-differentiation
of sex and caste, there are also no age limitation—children, parents, and
grandparents all attend the reading schools.
On reaching Toro, Miss Pike immediately took over this department of
the work, and within a few months the School had outgrown two different
buildings, and an extension had to be contemplated in order to make room
for the 300 average daily attendances. As soon as this was made known, a
willing band of workers was collected together under the Katikiro, and
started throwing out the end of the mud building. I am quite sure no
Member of Parliament ever laboured more strenuously than this one did!
Whether it was levelling the soil, demolishing the old wall, erecting the
new, or roofing it in, he was always in the thick of it. But his dignity
would not permit him to throw aside any of his superfluous garments!
And the coarse, Jaeger-coloured vest, tweed coat and waistcoat, and top
layers of draperies proved very oppressive. Every now and again he sank
back in his chair quite exhausted, gorgeous coloured handkerchiefs were
applied as mops to his steaming brow, and two attendants stood round with
an umbrella and fan.
A mistress in these reading schools must be free from any neuralgic
or nervous tendencies. I was simply overcome with admiration at the
spirit of fortitude and calm endurance that my colleague was displaying
when I paid my first visit to the Toro seminary. Morning prayers had
been concluded, and the School had sorted itself out into about twenty
classes, which represented various grades, from the alphabet to St.
Matthew’s Gospel stage, and each was presided over by a native teacher.
The scholars were a queer medley; chiefs clothed in their white linen
gowns sat on tiny round stools, which they brought tucked under their
arm, and in the same class, struggling over the same letters, were seated
on the ground serving boys, probably their own, and raw peasants. Women
who had just left their cultivation and, strapping the baby to their
shoulders, hurried off to school, were sitting with quite small infants,
perhaps being taught their syllables by their own little daughters.
Excepting in the alphabet classes, the scholars sat in a circle round
their teacher who, with a strand of grass, pointed to the letters
which all the pupils were expected to shout out together. The one
little reading sheet only allowed those directly in front to read the
letters right way up; the others, who were careful to take up the same
position each day, learnt at all angles. Quite a large proportion of
the Batoro are able to read their books upside down in consequence.
When all the classes were fairly started and each of the three hundred
pupils was trying his best to drown his neighbour’s voice, the noise
was indescribable. Each class had its own formula which was recited
metrically. Take for instance, the one dealing with syllables of three
letters—all the pupils sang out “b—w—a, we call it bwa,” then the teacher
intoning, asked “how many letters and what are they called,” and the
answer was shouted back “letters three, b—w—a, and they are always bwa.”
Then they tackled b—w—e, b—w—i, b—w—o, in the same way and so on all
down the alphabet. While this pandemonium is going on, one after another
is sent up by his teacher to be examined by the European. The pupil
who answers satisfactorily is then given a pass to a higher form; he
returns to his old class to receive the profuse congratulations of his
contemporaries, and then marches off to his new quarters full of pride
and elation.
[Illustration: THE BAKONJO AT HOME.]
One would wonder how it is possible to ever learn to read in such a
hubbub, but the Batoro have a remarkable power of insulating themselves
from their environment, and some have been known to pass right through
the school, from the alphabet to the highest reading class in four months.
Until 1902 no other secular subjects were taught excepting writing, but
at that time it was thought advisable to increase the educational work
amongst the Christian men and women, consequently two separate schools
were arranged for them in which they could be taught writing, arithmetic,
geography, and dictation.
Miss Pike, who was then in charge of the women’s work, took over their
school, and I was responsible for the other.
My pupils consisted of members from the Toro Cabinet, House of Lords and
House of Commons! The Katikiro, our Lord Chief Justice, was nominated
school chastiser. Corporal punishment was his usual method of dealing
with a noisy scholar; with a sudden bound off his chair he made a rush at
the culprit, and if he was not quite sure who the offender was he struck
a box on the ears at all in the vicinity of the noise. The King reserved
for himself the office of school inspector, and generally looked in on
his way home from morning service at the Church.
Arithmetic was not at all an easy subject to start teaching these people,
and they could not for a long time understand figures in the abstract.
Numeration was the thing they were started on. With a blackboard and
chalk I wrote up the usual 1, 10, 100, and then attempted an explanation.
One pupil instantly interrupted with “But what are the ten?” “Oh, I said,
ten anything, ten chickens or ten eggs.” “But if it’s a chicken how can
it be an egg,” he replied. The Katikiro found arithmetic very difficult.
He stuck at “twice two” for days; he would insist that it made twenty,
and even when he was convinced otherwise, his memory refused to agree
with his conviction. But when he at last mastered the “two times” table
and numeration up to a million, he rubbed his hands with satisfaction,
and exclaimed “What wisdom!” When Kasagama heard of the different
subjects being taught he evidently thought that tailoring ought to be
included, for, one day he sent down a lad with a roll of white duck, and
an earnest request that I would teach him how to make coats. The boy was
sent away with an explanation that in our country men did the tailoring.
But His Majesty was not to be put off, and so the message came back
“would ‘Bwana Fisher’ teach him?” Our protestations only called forth
more beseeching requests, so in despair I took a pattern from a London
coat and showed the boy how to put it together. The result was far from
being complimentary to the original, but Kasagama did not take into
consideration the cut, so much as the fact that it _was_ a coat.
A few of the more promising pupils used to come together each afternoon
for extra instruction, in order that they might be able to help in
the morning school which was getting beyond the work of one person.
Elementary astronomy was added to their list of subjects, and was a theme
of intense interest and wonderment to them. One afternoon a very simple
explanation had been given them on how the world was held up in space by
the law of gravitation. After asking a number of questions they begged
me to teach them nothing more that day, for they wanted to take the
words away and think them out. One man, who was a Muganda, stayed behind
and very apologetically, as if afraid of suggesting that he doubted the
veracity of my words, he asked if the world is held up by gravitation,
how did it manage for the first three days, for in Genesis we read that
the sun, moon, and stars were created on the fourth!
Uganda to-day presents a land rising from a sleep of centuries. The
outside world in its onward march has stepped in, and with its Babel of
Tongues roused the people from their long deep slumber. Thus startled
out of lethargy, the surprised nation stands gazing in wonderment at a
great world controlled by undreamed-of mental and moral forces. And a new
desire has been born within them, a desire to bring themselves under the
same irresistible powers. The possibility is there, but the guiding of
the mind and soul of the people cannot be undertaken by itself. England
holds herself responsible for the protection of its national life, and it
is for the Church of God to-day to stand at the helm, and steer past the
rocks and shoals till the people have learned to take over the control
themselves.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Native guards or soldiers.
[2] Surely the most ardent critic of missions could not have failed to
be convinced of the reality of these people’s Christianity had he looked
at the order of this great service. Their reverent behaviour as they
worshipped in a church built with their own hands, and listened to one of
their own native clergy, must have deeply impressed even the most cynical
onlooker.