Jehovah Jireh students look to God for desks and chairs

A well-fed goat standing next to a black leather chair that has metal rods where the backrest should be is what welcomes you to the Jehovah Jireh Primary School administration block.

Dirt clings tightly to the red floor on the veranda extending all the way into the staff room, where two old wooden tables stand next to each other.

Behind each table is a three-seater wooden chair and a few green cushions scattered over broken plywood. On one table are two sufurias holding the teachers’ delicacy of the day - boiled ‘matumbo’ and ugali.

Above our heads, the white ceiling boards are uneven - thieves recently cut through them to get into the building.

Sorry state

“The school does not have electricity - it was vandalised. We cannot leave anything valuable here because of insecurity,” says Margaret Njeri, the deputy head teacher.

The staff room is just a glimpse of the overall poor condition of the school located in Saika estate in Nairobi. The classrooms are even more shocking. And just as the name of the school suggests, the students can only wait for the 'Supreme Provider' to save them from the misery.

Jehovah, as it is commonly referred to by the locals, boasts 1,300 students mostly from the surrounding slums including Muigenye, Maili Saba, Moroto and Migingo. But there is nothing to smile about the only means through which these pupils can quench their thirst for education.

Besides the fact that most of the classrooms designed to accommodate 50 students hold more than 100, the students use sacks as desks. And chairs.

The few real desks available are designed to hold three learners, but usually accommodate up to five. The others use empty cans turned upside down, or sacks laid on a floor decorated with potholes.

Most of the desks were destroyed in the post-election violence of August 2017 and the pupils have had to bear with the situation for close to a year now.

The old rugged sacks are carefully locked up in a cupboard after school, waiting to serve another eight hours the next day.

“These sacks are used to package the maize and beans given by the school feeding programme. The students sprinkle water on the classroom floors to reduce the dust before laying the sacks,” says head teacher John Mwangi.

Mr Mwangi is barely a week old in the school and obviously has a lot to work on to bring the school up to basic standards.

“The floor is cold and most of us experience constant chest pain, especially now that the temperatures are so low. Some students cannot afford school sweaters and those are even more at risk,” explains one learner in Kiswahili.

She adds that the sitting position for those who use sacks is very uncomfortable and they also strain to see what is written on the blackboard.

At lunchtime, the students struggle to keep goats away from their plates of maize and beans; the nursery school children have a tougher time.

“Once I had to share my plate of food with my sister who is in nursery school after a goat knocked over her plate of food,” says a Standard Seven pupil.

Herd goats

The watchman reveals that over the weekend, the school is like a market - locals herd their goats as young men while away their time.

And it is not only the students bearing the brunt of the poor state of the school. According to the watchman, female teachers have to go to the toilet in groups for their safety.

“Their phones and handbags and other valuables are often snatched from an opening next to the toilet. This even made it impossible for the teachers to arrive in school on time, although the situation is better now,” says the guard.