Nepal Schools Project
By Allan J Sweeney
In August 2001 I cried. I cried in Nagarkot, Nepal, at the dilapidated state of the huts called schools. I cried at impoverished school children with no blackboard, chalk, pencils or paper, repeating words like parrots because there was no other way to learn. And I cried at how one headmaster had saved for years to buy a buffalo, and now wakes at 3am daily and walks miles through the mountains to sell buffalo milk to pay for basic school items like another teacher. Until then, after he's sold the milk, he teaches everything himself.
The tragic situations touched my heart. I felt my heart well up, then swell up, and I swore then and there to help all the schools in the area.
Nagarkot would be a beautiful area if it were not for the poverty. Situated on a Himalayan ridge, on one side it overlooks the Valley of Kathmandu. The city's lights twinkle in the distance at night. On the other side are the highest Himalayan peaks, including Mount Everest, always snow-capped.
But my time in Nagarkot was not spent in idle sightseeing. It was spent mobilising local support within the seven local ‘schools’, from the area’s nine village chiefs, and from the Villages’ Development Chief.
By the time I left, visits had been made to schools to ascertain needs. One school's poor children were crammed into small, filthy, crumbling classrooms because new partially built classrooms had run out of funds. They only need £500 to finish the work.
Another school had 200 students, but only four pencils between them. This did not really matter, as they had no paper to write on.
Two other schools were situated about halfway up a mountain so that children from villages in the valley far below, and the ridge way above, could all attend school. There were no real paths, only roughly hewn footsteps in steep mud or rock, with often a sheer drop on one side. The path is highly dangerous, especially when wet, and children on their way to school had slipped off the mountainside and died.
These tragic circumstances increased because schools had no games, no ball, and no skipping rope or coit, nothing except stones to play with. At one school, children played musical chairs, to a tune of the teacher’s humming. But the school had no chairs. So bare-footed children stood on rough stones.
There are too many horrid things to relate. Suffice to say, seeing the schools and ascertaining needs was followed by discussions with the area’s Villages Development Chief, Mr Bill Bahadur. He agreed to call a meeting with the Chief’s of all nine local villages, with the objective of raising villager support for a planned Schools Development Programme.
The meeting went well. Through an interpreter, I explained my tears of sadness at their plight. I promised to raise funds in England to rebuild and re-equip all seven schools. In return for funds for the schools’ materials and supplies, the Village Chiefs agreed to:
Please help.
Each school needs about £10,000 to give children basics like a safe building, toilet and water facilities, telephone for emergencies (much needed when accidents occur to children half-way up a mountain),
and books.
Each pound buys perhaps 10 times more than in England.
Please pay donations online
Let’s wipe away the tears from Nagarkot’s visitors.
Thank you so much for your help.
Allan J Sweeney
PS
My travel fares to visit the Schools in Nepal come out of my pocket.
100% of your donations helps children's education.Come with me if you wish, and see the suffering you'll relieve.
By Allan J Sweeney
In August 2001 I cried. I cried in Nagarkot, Nepal, at the dilapidated state of the huts called schools. I cried at impoverished school children with no blackboard, chalk, pencils or paper, repeating words like parrots because there was no other way to learn. And I cried at how one headmaster had saved for years to buy a buffalo, and now wakes at 3am daily and walks miles through the mountains to sell buffalo milk to pay for basic school items like another teacher. Until then, after he's sold the milk, he teaches everything himself.
The tragic situations touched my heart. I felt my heart well up, then swell up, and I swore then and there to help all the schools in the area.
Nagarkot would be a beautiful area if it were not for the poverty. Situated on a Himalayan ridge, on one side it overlooks the Valley of Kathmandu. The city's lights twinkle in the distance at night. On the other side are the highest Himalayan peaks, including Mount Everest, always snow-capped.
But my time in Nagarkot was not spent in idle sightseeing. It was spent mobilising local support within the seven local ‘schools’, from the area’s nine village chiefs, and from the Villages’ Development Chief.
By the time I left, visits had been made to schools to ascertain needs. One school's poor children were crammed into small, filthy, crumbling classrooms because new partially built classrooms had run out of funds. They only need £500 to finish the work.
Another school had 200 students, but only four pencils between them. This did not really matter, as they had no paper to write on.
Two other schools were situated about halfway up a mountain so that children from villages in the valley far below, and the ridge way above, could all attend school. There were no real paths, only roughly hewn footsteps in steep mud or rock, with often a sheer drop on one side. The path is highly dangerous, especially when wet, and children on their way to school had slipped off the mountainside and died.
These tragic circumstances increased because schools had no games, no ball, and no skipping rope or coit, nothing except stones to play with. At one school, children played musical chairs, to a tune of the teacher’s humming. But the school had no chairs. So bare-footed children stood on rough stones.
There are too many horrid things to relate. Suffice to say, seeing the schools and ascertaining needs was followed by discussions with the area’s Villages Development Chief, Mr Bill Bahadur. He agreed to call a meeting with the Chief’s of all nine local villages, with the objective of raising villager support for a planned Schools Development Programme.
The meeting went well. Through an interpreter, I explained my tears of sadness at their plight. I promised to raise funds in England to rebuild and re-equip all seven schools. In return for funds for the schools’ materials and supplies, the Village Chiefs agreed to:
- Provide labour from their pool of unemployed tradesmen.
- Set up individual parent-teacher School Management Committees with one committee over all, to ensure monies are well spent.
- Send girls to school, instead of sending them to work hard on the mountain slopes from the age of three).
Please help.
Each school needs about £10,000 to give children basics like a safe building, toilet and water facilities, telephone for emergencies (much needed when accidents occur to children half-way up a mountain),
and books.
Each pound buys perhaps 10 times more than in England.
Please pay donations online
Let’s wipe away the tears from Nagarkot’s visitors.
Thank you so much for your help.
Allan J Sweeney
PS
My travel fares to visit the Schools in Nepal come out of my pocket.
100% of your donations helps children's education.Come with me if you wish, and see the suffering you'll relieve.