things i learned going through the education system in the maldives

According to Nelson Mandela, education is the greatest weapon with which to change the world. So now that I have gone through some stages of education, I want to take the time to pause and reflect on how well I have been prepared to become the stallion that mounts the world. For all intent and purposes, I'll be focusing on my time going through the education system in the Maldives.

okay..maybe I'm not a stallion yet

1. Fear of being wrong

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that we go to school to do something I would like to call learn. So there I was. It was the first week of grade 1 and we were going through a lesson. We were doing a mini reading comprehension and the teacher asked the class what the girl in the passage we were reading about wrote in her note book. I already read the lesson the night before so I thought I knew the answer. My hand shot up and I told the teacher what I thought was the correct answer. Apparently it wasn't. The teacher got angry at me and scolded me: "Why are you lying?!!!" I was young but I knew it was a genuine mistake and the fact that she chose to tell me I was lying rather than my answer was wrong bordered on insanity. This wasn't a one time incident but in short, it's fair to say the whole education system is build on right answers vs wrong answers. It wasn't until I started grade 9 physics that I learned from my tuition teacher that right or wrong answers didn't matter as much as using the correct methodology.

2. Discrimination

I was in grade 4. We had a girl in our class who had very dark skin, and because we were all brought up in society to be generous assholes when it came to skin color, we avoided her. I'm not saying we were taught that being dark was bad. We were taught that being fair was beautiful and into our young and innocent minds, it translated as: dark = yucky. The teacher didn't help either. If one of us boys were being too loud in the class, we had to sit down next to her. Needless to say that I spent a good amount of the academic year seated next to her as punishment and I hated the girl for that. Furthermore, discrimination wasn't just limited to skin color. If we had a kid from a rich family or a noble (read: beyfulhu) family, they get special treatment from the teacher and this irresponsible behavior from teachers and the school staff was very much out in the open.

3. Looking after yourself

When I was in grade 5 I had my first foreign teacher and boy was he scary! He was rather unorthodox compared to the teachers I had before. For example, he was the only teacher I met who punished a student and then later took them aside to ask them how they were doing. He had one interesting pet peeve. We went to school in the morning and all the desks and chairs were always dusty as hell. Not to mention the students from the afternoon session rearranged the desks everyday to their teacher's preference. Hence, every morning at 6, four of us had to go to clean the classroom and rearrange the desks. We did that for the whole year. It was an interesting and a completely new experience to clean the classroom because we were used to our classrooms being cleaned and arranged by the time we already came to class.

4. You feel like you're studying for the sake of studying

The biggest complain I had during my secondary education was studying things that I felt were useless in the real world. Especially when studying mathematics. I remember one day, my math teacher was teaching us matrices and I asked what a matrix was used for. What did the teacher say? "You'll learn it later." And this was the answer I got every time I asked any teacher about the purpose of a certain lesson. One time, in a calculus class, we challenged the teacher why using imaginary numbers worked. This time the teacher gave even a better answer than my previous teachers. "Sometimes you'll have to trust me and believe things because I said so." Yup! We weren't taught to think. We were indoctrinated to do things just because we were told to do so. However, I did manage to find out the use of matrices when I took 3D graphics in college. (TL; DR: Computers used matrices to do computations on its graphics cards.) I still can't believe why my math teacher couldn't tell me that.

ahem....I also learned where babies came from :-)

5. Unfair punishment/treatment

If you're reading this I'll assume you've gone to some form of school and have been punished. The thing about getting punished in my experience is that it's never fair. How unfair? This one time I was in class when someone threw an egg on to the ceiling. The egg came from outside and I was busy talking to a friend when it happened. Being the good Samaritans that we were, we went to the school office and reported it. Next thing we know, we had to return to school office after school and the two deputy/assistant principals at the time "Nafa" Naseem and "Gahaa" Saeed made us kneel down on the ground and write what happened. I told a nearby supervisor that we were the people who reported what happened. Then Mr. Naseem, who everyone at school hated for being a glorious stinky piece of shit-filled asshole, told us that he wants to show us who's boss, and that's saying it very eloquently (miadhu beynumee kaleymennah hey aruvaalan). Another incident that I'll never forget is from when I was in grade 1. We had a kid who was considered a little crazy (See? we discriminated even then. Looking back I'm sure the kid was normal cos he grew up to be a fine intelligent man) and one day he was chasing this girl with a broom. Everyone in the class were assigned to groups and I was the group leader to which she belonged. I don't know what I was thinking but I tried to stop the kid and somehow we ended up sandwiching the girl between us and she got hit with the broom. Needless to say she started crying and Lo and behold! A supervisor showed up. He asked the class what happened and everyone pointed at me. I explained what happened down to every detail and the supervisor scolded me and I'm pretty sure he made me stand still at my desk. One silver lining from this whole thing: I learned at a younger age that life wasn't going to be fair to me and I managed to learn to live around the system.

punish me if you must. cos I can take it.

6. Always carry a pen with you if meeting someone important

I just finished grade 10 and I went back to get recommendation from the school principal to get into grade 11. I was in the principal's office to get the report from him and he showed me that there was a portion on the form where I forgot to fill. I asked him to borrow a pen and he said, "No". I was startled and not sure I heard him correctly, I asked him if he wasn't going to lend me a pen. He said he wouldn't and he said it with a smile. I muttered a curse under my breath and went to find a pen from elsewhere. I later met with a classmate and shared what happened at the principal's office. My classmate laughed and told me that he had the same experience and that the principal told him that he should always carry a pen when going to meetings. In the spirit of full disclosure, I didn't fully learn this lesson until I finished college.

7. I only started learning when I began to enjoy studying

Now in grade 11 and till then, English was my weakest subject. I even straight up failed English in my O Level exams. Anyway, I had this wonderful teacher in Grade 11. She made us write what we wanted and let us enjoy the process. She told us what we were doing wrong while doing exercises and the best part of it all: she didn't throw a fit when we got a little late to class or if we missed a class. She did get angry and scolded us but she didn't kick us out of the class as per school regulations in case we were late. I must say I learned more about English (and teaching) from her than from my 10 years of education up to that point. In addition, she gave me confidence that I can do well in English. In short, it was a blast!

So there you have it. If you're an educator you may not agree with everything I said. I don't blame you. I'm still grateful to all my teachers and I can't thank them enough because they did, whether I like it or not, make me who I am today.

Until next time. Adios...

a fond adieu...

I don't normally write posts for others. I don't even dedicate posts to others. Why? Because it is my blog. However, today's post is dedicated to a very special lady. She has been with me throughout the majority of my existence. She is the one woman who made me cry before I saw her. The one woman who has, thus far, spanked me. And the only person, I know, who used chili as a motivator. And this is the story of how I met her...

I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was 4 years old and free as a bird can be. My mom entered the room. Beaming at me as if she had gotten me a gift. Just like any other kid, my gift-senses started tingling and I ran to my mom to hear the good news, or more importantly, to get the booty she got for me. However, she had other plans. No booty was to be had by me. On the contrary, the seemingly 'good' news she had for me was that (as it's in our culture when we start going to kindergarten) she got me into a class, rather a house, that taught Quran. My reaction? I started crying. Crying as if the world has ended. I felt the horizon close in on me. I can proudly say I didn't throw much tantrums as a kid, but on that day, a tantrum I threw. And it was one hell of a kind! I threw things at my mom. I sat on the floor and stomped my feet. I cried big fat tears. Not the crocodile tears, but frickin huge Oh-God-what-did-I-ever-do-to-deserve-this tears! My mom, as calm as a praying mantis on acid, just laid down on the floor beside me and stayed silent through the ordeal.

Of course, I lost the war and ended up going to the house. And God, did she scare me! It felt like a jail to me. I take it back. A jail would be better. She kept a stick on one side and one mean looking chili on the other side. I am not talking about a plain chili. No. It was the Mother of all chilies. It was the unholy offspring of Satan, himself. It was huge, red, and mean! Anyway, she never used it on anyone, but it was scary as hell. But the stick, she did use. And use it on me she did. I didn't study the lesson for that day and she spanked me. I think I got about 10 hits. It did not hurt but the humiliation was unrelenting. It did, however, teach me to study my lesson. And she held the record as the only female to have hit me for more than 18 years until my classmate from college punched me for calling her a lesbian.

Soon, I got used to the whole thing and I grew up to be her favorite student. I made great friends and going to the class soon became my favorite part of the day! Even long after I 'graduated' from the class, I visit from time to time to see her and she would get all mushy touchy dovey with me. I will never forget the way her face lit up every time I went to visit her. She would always greet with my a motherly smile and pat my back as if I were her own. She would hold my hand and never let go as she barraged me with questions. About studies, about job, and about life. I remember our last meeting. It was the ninth of November 2012, some 20 odd years after our first encounter. She had been so sick lately that she could barely recognize me. Once I told her I was her favorite student, she smiled at me. She showed me in and we went and I sat down beside her. Once again, I faced the inquirous blitzkrieg (by now I have learned to answer those questions short and sweet). She asked about my job and told me what little stories she remembered from when I was a student. The best part was that whenever one of her children, grandchildren, or even someone else came, she would introduce me and say that I was her student. She showed me off as a trophy. When it was turn to bid her goodbye, she held my hand, looked me in the eyes and her eyes full of tears and yet smiling, she says, 'Do come again.' And it struck me; she never said a proper goodbye. There were no farewells with her, no goodbyes. Just a promise, a plea to see her again.

And then the phone call last night. She had passed away. Truly, we belong to Allah and unto Him we return!

I write this post, not to mourn her passing away, but to celebrate her life. So here is to a lady, who has dedicated her life to educate others. A lady who gave back to the world more than the world cared to give her. I hope that, one day, I can become even half the person you are. To bastardize George Bernard Shaw's quote, life was no 'brief candle' to you, and you burned the splendid torch that is your life, as bright as you could, before you handed it on to future generations.  Here is to a great mentor and a great educator. AND A FUCKING AWESOME HUMAN BEING!!!  I will never forget what you taught me and I will always treasure your words and your wisdom. It was a pleasure being your student and an even more pleasure knowing you as a person, away from your stick and chili. I am a better person for having known you. The world will miss you. I will miss you. Your memories and your words will live forever in my heart and I shall remember you in this world and the next.

The following words are from the West Point Alma Mater and it is the least I could do to honor you...

And when our work is done,
Our course on Earth is run,
May it be said, 'Well Done;
Be Thou At Peace.'

Until we meet again. Adios...