Ode to Bodweseteco and other ‘useless village’ schools

Why do we not appear the least surprised that once again, angry tears and fermented surprises have greeted the CSSPS. Perhaps, the only surprise is that only a year ago, we were assured that ‘the long queues and confusion you see today, you shall see them no more’. Yet, the Egyptians came upon us again, this time in greater numbers, making SHS admission a little bearable than a jinxed betrayal.

CSSPS Voodoo Calculus
A little boy who lives with a single mum in Adeiso, has been sent by a notoriously unchristian CSSPS to a school in Techiman as a day student. He cries uncontrollably as his anxious mother asks: “How does the GES expect me, a poor single mother, to rent a house in Techiman for a 14 year old, to live all by himself?" In the far corner is a palpably worried Akweley, a pretty 15 year girl who wears the confidence of an ‘A’ student but has been compensated with a Category ‘C’ school.

The journalist who interviewed Akweley struggled to hide his laughter when she disclosed that she had passed with aggregate 37. She was adamant that she qualified for her Category A choices of Achimota and ST Louis SHS. Yet, Akweley had a more comforting story than the twin boys who wanted to be placed in the same school, but had been entirely forgotten by the system. Unlike Akweley, the great effort of the twins had produced the twin aggregate of 26 and 27 respectively.

Meanwhile, the Minister of Education, Hon Haruna Iddrisu, has assured us that there are more spaces to absorb every student, including some 55,000 not-too brilliant students who failed in either English or Mathematics, or both. There is special provision for these students, to enable them to exercise their right to education. However, for more than 300,000 students who applied or qualified for category A schools, the system has only saved 70,000 spaces for them. As nobody desires to go to Category B and C schools where there are plenty of unfilled slots, the CSSPS may need to re-event itself or deploy some voodoo calculus to fix things.

Cocoyam and Cassava Schools
The CSSPS voodoo seemed to have been activated when an angry young boy who had been sent to a Category C school, stunned a GES official to reimagine his own unique circumstances as a secondary school boy before the CSSPS was birthed. Incidentally, the useless village school the young boy had sworn never to accept, was the alma mater of the GES official. From those humble beginnings at Royal Sankore SHS, which had been nicknamed Cocoyam school because it had been built close to a large expanse of cocoyam farms, the GES official obtained the required grades for university education in Ghana and abroad. Villagers don't play.

The cocoyam school may have the same character and prospects as Bodweseteco, (Bodwesekrom Secondary Technical College), where I did my O and A levels. These weekly tissues of the issues spring from the tranquil but morose surroundings of the cocoa and cassava plantations behind Bodweseteco, where I stared into nothingness and dreamed away. I dreamt about Legon. Oxford. Harvard. Universities in Norway, where I was told scholarships abounded for the liberal arts.

From Bodweseteco, I joined the Achimotans, Prempeh and Wesley Girls scholars at University of Ghana. To be fair to Category A schools, their students seemed quite confident and spoke good English. Some of them even spent their vacations in London. The few Bodwesetecans who gained university admission were visiting Accra and Kumasi for the first time. We spent our vacations helping our fathers on their cassava farms and drinking palmwine while the Achimotans enjoyed fine wine.

On my first lecture at the English Department at Legon, I listened carefully as the Accra and Cape Coast scholars delighted the class with polished English that rolled off their tongue with organic effortlessness. I wondered how a village school prefect who made history as the candidate with the best A’ Level score in 20 years, would chat with the rich Achimotan coursemates and possibly get a girlfriend. So, when Samantha gave me a green light after I had aced the first sets of poetry assignments and interim assessments, I was hesitant to grab free love on a platter.

Prestige and Glory
Today, I see many Bodwesetecans doing amazing things around the world, including our dining hall prefect who works at the United Nations in New York. The other day, he sent me a picture he had taken with Ben Dotsei Malor, a former UN employee, now Deputy Ghana Ambassador in Washington. This proud Bodwesetecan, who graduated from an Ivy league university in Boston, is living proof that it doesn't matter which category the CSSPS places a student. Another bold proof is Dr George Asiamah who overcame his sensational SSCE score of FEFEEFE at his village school, to pursue greater academic laurels. Today, he teaches at Oxford University.

The last time I met my Bodwesetecan friend in Ghana, we paid a ‘working’ visit to our beloved school. We had keenly followed what Ernest Ofori Sarpong and other industry titans had been doing for their alma mater. We began to appreciate the fetish of making a category A school an all die be die affair.

We found that besides their impressive record nine wins in the national maths and science competitions, Ofori Sarpong’s PRESEC has a powerful alumni who are well placed to support their school. We also found that category C schools may produce a few brilliant outliers, but generally, their students could only chase the category A glory from the desolate surroundings of their cocoyam and cassava farms.

Kwesi Tawiah-Benjamin
Tissues Of The Issues
[email protected]
Ottawa, Ontario