In this village of the sous-colline of Mahara in central Burundi, the
people live in poverty and precariously. Our visit is an event: many of the villagers
have come to watch and have crowded round. We ask Bienvenue about her education
and aspirations. She has both. She sees she has a platform, lifts her head and
pronounces: “I urge those parents who do not yet send their children to school
to do so now because I am witness to the enormous advantages of school”.
It wasn’t until she was 12 that it occurred to Bienvenue’s father, Pierre
Magaranamazi to educate his children. It occurred to him because he was himself
learning to read and write. The change to his life that this brought lead to
nothing short of an epiphany: “I realised I was really backward”, he said “I
asked myself: ‘are my children to suffer from illiteracy as I have done?’ ”
According to the Forum for African Women Educationalists (FAWE), enrolment
to primary education in Burundi stands at 99%. This despite the fact that rural
poverty (over 60% of the population lives in rural poverty in Burundi[1])
means many cannot afford the requisite uniforms and books. It is perhaps partly
because of this that the overall drop out rate is high. And FAWE statistics
show that only 27% of girls manage to complete primary education.[2]
In a speech on 25th April this year, Burundi’s Minister for
Education, Joséphine Bangurambona, put poor results for those girls who do stay
at school down partly to the high rate of pregnancy in girls from the 6th
to 10th grade. She urged teachers to concentrate more on girls and warned
of sanctions against those who cause schoolgirls to get pregnant.[3]
In another village, Muhingira, I had already met a group of children all of
whom attend school. One girl, through her broken French, told me her name was
Thérèse and she was 17 and at secondary school. I asked what she wants to do
when she leaves school. “I’ll grow maize”, she said. “And beans”.
In rural areas at least, women and girls are bound by tradition and a
deep-rooted patriarchal mindset. They mind the house and the children as well
as working in the fields. But they are not traditionally encouraged to go to
school or to aspire.
This country is also still recovering from a war that destroyed crops,
decimated livestock, razed schools and villages and killed community members -
even whole communities - indiscriminately. The conflict also destroyed
Burundian society as a whole, such that women were never safe from violent
attack and they have few legal rights. Tensions still exist in a country where
political affiliations are flown from village flagpoles countrywide, where food
costs are rising but employment falling and high population density means land
ownership disputes regularly result in murder. Burundi stands at the bottom of
the UN’s human development index, above only the DRC and Niger[4].
In Burundi, at least, there is a need to change the world.
Burundi’s President, Pierre Nkurunziza knows this only too well. Soon after
his re-election in 2010, he asked Burundians to “Change yourselves, change your
families and change your country”[5]
He added that “women will be well represented in all areas of national life –
taking into account their abilities”. Which brings us back to education.
Bienvenue’s father has great ambitions for his children. “My greatest wish
is to see my children learn and earn their diploma. It will be a passport to
employment … and they’ll be able to help me out too”.
Bienvenue goes on to describe what education can do for her: “I could
become, God willing, a teacher,” she declares, “or work in administration”. The
audacity surges up within her and her voice quavers over the hushed silence: “Or
even a member of government!” The village erupts into wolf whistles and
applause, as Bienvenue hangs her head in embarrassment.
In the battle to change the world, is education the most powerful weapon we
can use? It is a momentous battle that needs a full arsenal – to which
education is a significant contribution.
In Burundi, with its complexity of problems, education must be the first
salvo in promoting gender equality and general change throughout the country. Greatest
or not, education cannot be the only weapon that makes change happen, however. In
this poor and isolated rural village it has, surely, taken more than education
to give Bienvenue the power to dare to believe she could achieve great things.
What that is might be reflected in the shy smile of pride that now plays on
her lips. The same smile that beams across her father’s face from the shade of
the banana trees.
[1] Based on population numbers and number of people living in rural
poverty quoted in IFAD’s Rural Poverty report
[2] http://www.fawe.org/region/central/burundi/index.php
[3] Burundi RTNB TV report, 25th April, 2012 and http://www.isanganiro.org/spip.php?article1522
[4] UNDP HDI - http://hdr.undp.org/en/statistics/
[5] http://www.burundi-gov.bi/Burundi-Politique-Message-a-la