The Kindergarten In A Crate
The community is little more than a cascading series of shacks clinging to the side of a hill, on land rented from a local chief. It’s a steep walk down a narrow, broken path off the road. There is no running water, no sanitation, but it’s tidy.
There’s still pride here. The houses are made of rusting corrugated iron, wooden stilts, and bright painted concrete concrete. Dogs and chickens run around freely.
We are on the outskirts of Suva, visiting a Banaban squatter community. Its people are originally from Kiribati — some relocated from in the years after World War 2, others arrived more recently.
Many of the men work as fisherman, away at sea for months at a time. The families have little in the way of opportunity, and these kids have no chance of school, except for what comes to them.
Today, a kindergarten has arrived.
“It’s simple logic — if the children can’t go to kindergarten classes, we must bring those classes to them.”
“This is preparing them because we do not want them to be living in a place like this for the rest of their lives. We want them to grow and be prepared and be ready,” says Analesi Tuicaumia, as children clamber over her feet.
She doesn’t mind.
For 25 years Analesi has been involved in early childhood education. For the last six, she’s been bringing education to children living in some of the most impoverished areas of Suva, and she’s been doing it out of the back of a car, with a kindergarten in a crate.
Actually, it’s a big metal box full of teaching aids — games, books, toys. With it, come teachers, and food, and fresh, clean water to drink.
The children range in age from one to five. They sing songs, and play games, and dance — cackling with laughter.
At one point, their teachers bring out some playdough. Before the kindy arrived, some of the children had never seen such stuff. They would stop, and sniff it, trying to work out this strange, new plaything.
This project ensures disadvantaged children don’t remain disadvantaged. Twice a week, the kindy helps prepare them for school, and the world ahead of them.
“I know high quality early care and education for disadvantaged children will help them to reach their full potential and also eventually eradicate poverty in our society,” she says.
“We want to provide a holistic approach. In terms of giving them a meal, giving them clean water, showing them how to wash hands, and we give them academic work.”
These are hard-to-reach children. But hard-to-reach children have always been have always been the priority for UNICEF, which funds the project.
“In Fiji, this means reaching out to those in squatter settlements who do not have access to many government services,” says Niki Abrishamian, UNICEF Pacific’s Head of Education.
“It’s simple logic — if the children can’t go to kindergarten classes, we must bring those classes to them.”
In 2016, the mobile kindy scheme provided education to 300 disadvantaged and disaffected children. But it’s not just for kids. Staff also use the time to help families access other government services, like birth registration, medical services and other social welfare programs.
And being mobile, it can quickly respond to other situations. When Fiji was smashed by Cyclone Winston in March, a mobile kindy was despatched to nine affected communities, ensuring 138 children could continue with their education as their villages were rebuilt.
“I do this because I know the value of it. It contributes into the economy of the nation. I believe this will be the greatest investment ever.”
One of the i-Kiribati women, Tekanei Tutake, introduces us to her grandson. His name is Kacene, and he climbs all over her, smothering her with hugs, before running back to his friends. She’s noticed a change since he started attending.
“Without the kindy there’d be no-one for him to play with. He likes mingling with the children, especially playing with lego. Before he was playing on his own. And now, when the teacher comes around he’ll call out ‘Hey teacher, teacher!’ He’s changed like that. Now he is confident.”
Analesi says she often has former pupils, now in their 20s, come up to tell her about their achievements, or qualifications they are studying towards. She looks forward to when the Banaban children can share their achievements.
“It gives me so much hope to think we can bring those qualities to these children here, so one day they’ll come to me too, and say ‘Miss Analesi, look, I am this.’
“I do this because I know the value of it,” she says.
“It contributes into the economy of the nation. I believe this will be the greatest investment ever.”