A school for the blind

I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to the school for blind children at Madera. Probably because I knew it would be an uncomfortable experience. It is quite near, in Soroti, so eventually I decided to try to arrange a visit, as without it our study of childhood disability would be incomplete. Attempts to make an appointment by telephone failed so I went over to see if one could be arranged, after spending an enjoyable morning and early afternoon with sponsored children who were visiting the site to collect gifts chosen to help them and their families. And in another first I got to referee a girls’ football match. 

See Barbara’s blog as she is in charge of fun.

I was feeling a bit rusty on motorcycling so Tom and I agreed he would drive there and I would drive back. I was certainly much more relaxed driving myself at 40 kph than when a passenger, even though my increased security was undoubtedly illusory.

We received a warm welcome from the charming Sister who is the headmistress, and she said it was fine to talk to her and to some children, when I explained the purpose of the visit and the research. This Catholic boarding school was founded in 1955 so some generations of children have passed through. It takes primary and secondary students from all of Uganda so it uses English as the medium of teaching. Sister told us of the problems for the school due to the fact that few parents can afford the fees. She sees how poor they are and feels ashamed to send them away so she tries to raise funds where she can. Nevertheless a proportion of children start each term late as their families are trying to get the cash together, and some drop out. Children who complete their education here often go on to University and to employment. Without it, they would be helpless.

We walked with her round the school; lessons had finished and there was a relaxed atmosphere. The children were assembling for choir practice as they were to lead prayers in church the next day. We were lucky enough to be welcomed by them in song, accompanied by drums and piano accordion, and I said the usual few words of greeting and thanks in reply. They probably enjoy the platitudes spoken by visitors as much as I did in my school days so I made it brief.

Then she selected some “volunteers” to speak to us. We sat in a room not far away from the choir and chairs were brought. The children learn their way around the school and some are partially sighted and help guide the others, so it was not at all chaotic. We introduced ourselves and got consent for the research. I asked them to tell stories about their experiences as blind children in their families and communities, and then to talk about how they saw their future. What followed would take a few pages of blog. Mostly their immediate families were supportive, though in some cases only the mothers; once again fathers sometimes failed to support their children and some siblings could be hostile. Some said that they were only sent to school after the sighted ones were sorted out, if there was any money left. (Rather like me leaving the blind kids to the end of the study, as an afterthought almost.) One girl had a harrowing tale of abuse from her father’s family and her stepfamily, including assaults and attempted poisonings. A theme that emerged from a few of them was that there is a kind of double-bind that they face. If they don’t perform tasks because they are blind, they are called useless. But if they do go to the shops for something, or work in the fields, they are accused of faking the blindness to gain support. It seems people can’t accept that a blind person can do many things as well as a sighted one. Another difficulty was getting to and from school on the bus at the beginning and end of term. Conductors cannot always be relied on to tell them their stop and fellow passengers sometimes tell them all their baggage is unloaded when this is not the case. They usually take a bicycle taxi to school from the bus station.

Their ambitions were similar to those of other teenagers; to complete their schooling, go on to University, become a teacher, a lecturer, a nurse or a Gospel singer. One boy voiced his fear that the funding would fail and he would not be able to learn any more. Feeling moved and troubled by these kids’ courage and the doubt that clouds their futures, we took our leave and wished them success