Moi university students on riot

Normalcy has been interrupted for hours at Moi University main campus following a massive and destructive students' demonstration that is still on-going.

The riots began early in the morning, after a today's student newsletter article revealed that current third year students may be subjected to a three months holiday after their first semester in September to create space for the admission of first year students.

The potential victims of the administration's plan from all faculties of the campus started by making noise around the Student Center, attracting a massive crowd which then matched around major areas such as faculty centres, library and shops, destroying property which led to their immediate closure for safety reasons.

They later converged again in front of the Student Center, where they sort to be addressed by an officer from their dean. In a bid to calm the violence, the assistant dean of students produced an internal memo, denying the 'rumours' and providing assurance to the rioting students that they will not be required to go for the said holiday.

However, the angry students ignored the memo and even teared it into small pieces, claiming that the paper has been released just to blackmail and deceive them. They demanded a more authentic confirmation and so are seeking to be addressed by the Vice Chancellor, Professor Richard Mibey.

Msalaba Mwekundu Kuimarisha Mazingira

Chama cha Msalaba Mwekundu cha wanafunzi wa chuo kikuu cha Moi, hapo juzi Jumamosi tarehe 26 mwezi Julai kilizindua rasmi mpango wa kuyarembesha mazingira.

Baadhi ya wanachama wakipanda miche

Shughuli hiyo iliyong'oa nanga mwendo wa saa nne asubuhi, ilihusisha upandaji miti katika maeneo mbali mbali ya bewa kuu. Aidha wafuasi waliitumia fursa hiyo kuutambulisha umma kuhusu uwepo wa chama hicho katika taasisi hii.

Moja wapo ya mikakati waliyoitumia ni kuandaa msafara ulioanzia nje ya jumba la ukumbi wa wanafunzi, chini ya uongozi wa mwenyekiti wa chama hicho Bw. Chris Kimanga. Msafara huo uliojumlisha zaidi ya wanachama hamsini, wakiwa wamebeba bango la chama, ulisonga hadi kituo cha magari kwa mwendo usiokuwa wa kasi, kabla ya kupiga kona kuelekea Magharibi hadi kituo cha ukuzaji miche, maarufu kama ‘Moi University Nursery’, karibu na soko la wazi la ‘Mabbs’.

Ni katika kituo hicho ambapo miche zaidi ya 500 ilipatikana, pamoja na majembe ya kupandia. Kulingana na Bw. David Mitei ambaye ni mmoja wa wasimamizi wa kituo hicho, jamii jirani imekuwa ikinufaika pakubwa na shughuli za kituo hicho. Kwa mfano, taasisi mbali mbali za karibu (kama vile shule na makanisa) zimekuwa zikiwahi miche bila malipo, hii yote ikiwa ni juhudi ya kuyaimarisha mazingira.

Kutoka hapo wanachama wa Msalaba Mwekundu walielekea hadi maeneo ya Hosteli L, ambapo walianza kwa kuipanda miti hiyo ili kujaliza mapengo yaliyoachwa baada ya baadhi ya miti iliyopandwa awali kunyauka au kutonawiri ipasavyo. Baadaye walitapakaa kwengineko, kulikoonekana na uhitaji wa miti, zikiwemo laini za kando ya kibarabara kinachounganisha eneo hilo na Hosteli za Soweto.

Iliyodhaniwa kuwa kazi rahisi ilipevuka upesi na kuwa ngumu na ya kuchokesha, kwani wanachama hao walilazimika kufanya kazi kwenye miale ya jua; kunyosha kamba, kupima hatua sita sita huku wakiweka alama, kuchimba mashimo, kuzika miche na kufunika. Ni shughuli iliyohitaji ushirika, bidii na uvumilivu kwa zaidi ya masaa matatu mfululizo kabla ya kufikia tamati mwendo wa saa nane mchana.

Hatimaye uliwadia ule wakati wa kurudisha nguvu mwilini, ambapo idadi ya wanachama iliongezeka ghafla hadi zaidi ya sabini. Walishirikiana katika riziki nyepesi iliyojumlisha soda ndogo, thuluthi ya mkate wa boflu na pipi mbili kila mmoja kabla ya kufumukana.

What was I hearing?

I woke up this morning, to some funny sounds whose origin and meaning I could not comprehend.

I am not the kind of a person who gets up early but today I had to. It is actually the last dream I had that woke me up.

I was walking along the corridors of a certain hospital when I accidentally spotted a lady patient receiving treatment in one of the wards. She was screaming in pain as the nurse continued to dress her wound on her left thigh.

To me, the whole thing appeared normal because that is exactly what one would expect in such areas. So I ignored and moved on. However, the more I kept moving away, the louder the noise became and the clearer I heard it. This caught my attention. I stopped for a few seconds and felt like it was necessary to go back and see the suffering woman.

I therefore walked back quickly and almost entered the ward when a security guard stopped me. He claimed that no stranger was allowed in before the official time of visiting patients, which was a few minutes later.

As I stood with the guard, the screaming was growing louder every second, to an extent of slightly disturbing the guard too. Soon the visiting bell rang but before I could make any move, I woke up!

Surprisingly, I could still hear the lady screaming. This really confused me because first, I was in my room not hospital and second, the hostel is for men only. I quickly raised my head, just to confirm that I was not still asleep. That is when I got a clue. The noise came from my neighbouring room.

For about two minutes, I tried to understand what was really happening in that particular room but found out that I would not. The sounds then began to fade and finally stopped.

Until now, I am still in darkness. The lady was screaming as if drowning in water or having some jiggers removed from her toes. What exactly was I hearing?

Whenever it rains at Moi

One early morning of a normal campus day, I wake up. I do not expect anything new or better. As usual, every day begins on a morning of hardship that might subject anyone to mourning in hardship.

After making sure that electricity is still present in my room, I quickly get up and think about breakfast first! However, milk and bread or maandazi are not found within. You must walk a certain distance to get them. It rained at night and it is still very cold now, am a bit reluctant to go out. But my final decision is; I am going!

As I walk down slowly, I am joined by comrades from hostels D, G, J and those that reside with me in C. I usually admire their look, men and women of great ambitions, who managed to pass over all the previous academic bridges and finally landed on main campus. They too want to keep up their strength and energy in preparation for another busy day. They walk with me towards the selling points for different breakfast items.

Some of them divert into the SOWETO MESS. I look at them curiously, wanting to find out whether they have remembered to carry extra sugar from their rooms that would add taste to the light-white hot water in the name of tea. I also pray for them that once they consider coming back for lunch in the afternoon, they would arrive as early as possible. Get there behind the first twenty customers and you will be forced to wait for a spoon from the early comers as your rice-dengu gets cold.

Anyway, mine are just prayers and wishful thinking. I hope salvation will come from whoever was/were lucky enough to reap the highest number of votes for the catering docket in the recent September 13th MUSO elections. Rumors have it that the director(s) may go an extra mile to advocate for rescheduling of the MESS operating hours that will favor even those who may not be awake before 8am, whose lunch hours may fall beyond 2pm and those whose wish is to take supper after 7pm.

After the long time sympathy with the MESS users is when I remember that I have my own issues to accomplish, about 50 meters away from the maandazi baking centre and the milk vendors. Now getting to the place is not a big problem, how to get there is the real issue. Just a few strides off the MES building and I am welcomed by several pools of brown stagnant water! Between any two adjacent pools is clay soil soaked in rain water, hence sticky mud.

How do I walk past all these? I ask myself. I do not have the long black boots like most of this area’s residents. But as I stand here confused, several comrades pass, go and come back holding their favorite items for breakfast. They struggle to walk on the muddy path without even complaining. They seem to have adapted to the situation, but I am not. In fact, they too, are not supposed to – at least according to me.

I slowly bow down to fold up my pair of trousers to a level that I suspect will be free from the dirty water and mud. Like the rest, I also want to try walking past. I look around and spot a few ladies around their hostel J. they are busy washing their clothes between the two wings. Something comes to my mind. 'Once I lose stability, slide and probably fall off, these people might laugh at me. I do not want to take chances. So what do I do?'

I remember of another place where hot maandazi and fresh milk are also sold. It is behind hostel H. my watch tells me that I still have around 50 minutes before the morning lecture begins. I know I will not get late by running all the way to that alternative place, for fear of the slippery mud ahead of me. So I take a reverse and stroll on a concrete path between hostels J and G, towards the better place.

To my surprise, the same problem that I was trying to avoid is also here, so it is not better. I realize that as long as I want to take breakfast, I must walk on pools of brown water and mud! The only consolation I see here is that the distance of doing so is slightly shorter.

Due to lack of any other better alternative, I resolve to join yet another queue of comrades and walk on the hard way, the only way. I wonder whether there are any hostel residents around main campus who do not face such troubles whenever it rains at night or very early in the morning. What about those residing in K, L and M; do they also get frustrated at such times? One of my classmates lives there, I will ask her.

What plans do the security and accommodation elect(s) have in mind that would at least reduce such problems among others? I wish I asked the aspirants this question during the cross fires prior to the elections. But still, I will ask them some. I have no reason to blame the outgoing director. His term is over and is no longer concerned about this, although he would have done something little, only if he wanted to.

Megabytes' New Unruly Rule

The Megabytes cafe, situated behind Hostel H poses a new rule to curb competition, a rule that seems far away from being comrade-friendly.

It has always been my thinking that all the shops, chips cafes and other food stuff selling points around main campus exist strategically to benefit the student population, by means of availing goods and services as conveniently close to the students as possible. This assumption remained true until yesterday, Sunday morning.

Saturday's inter-university sport event was a major one. Although I missed out on direct participation, I was engaged in related activities, tiresome enough to cause a difficulty in early waking up the following morning.

However much I tried, I only managed to get up at a time when you do not expect to find breakfast from either the SOWETO MESS or the one inside the Students Centre. A quick resolution therefore struck my mind, a decision to visit the Megabytes Cafe that I suspected would not let me down. There, you find a variety of food stuffs including different types of fruits, but I was only going for one thing - tea.

Adjacent to Megabytes is another cafe that specializes in chips, smokies, maandazi and chapatis. So I passed by and collected around four maandazi that would serve as a light escort to the Megabytes' tea.  I never knew that was the first mistake I was doing on a day of worship. I then proceeded to my destination and asked for tea that costs nothing more than ten shillings, at least twice its price at the MESS. I almost went through. The man in a black jumper kindly received my coin, dropped it into a drawer and instructed me to get a mug from the other side because the thermos flask was right with him. Unfortunately, he was only doing that because he had not realized what I was holding on my left hand.

It was until I was going for the mug when he got a clear chance to spot the four pieces of brown snacks, hiding inside a small transparent polythene bag. His mood suddenly changed and as if only half-serious, he quickly asked, "Hiyo ni maandazi ama chapoo?"

As soon as he confirmed that I was carrying items which he also sells, and worst enough, bought from his nearest competitor, the man reacted with both words and actions. He recollected my coin from the drawer and gave it back to me while furiously clarifying one of the cafe's rules, "Hata sisi tunauza maandazi hapa..."

In other words, Megabytes Cafe does not operate that way. If you want to buy tea, do not walk in there with your own snacks; you must purchase what is available on their counter, whether it suits your taste or not. After all, they are after one thing - to increase sales and maximize profits.

Is 'Nyumba kumi' real?

Sometime back in March 2014, my friend and I were called by our area assistant chief. We did not hesitate.

The meeting took place in his office, not too far away from my home. Our task was simple. Typing names of household clusters, the so-called 'Nyumba Kumi' for the whole of Nyari sub-location which has a total of eight villages. Of course we would not have rejected such a simple task- with Ksh. 1000 waiting.

In the process, we realized that some information was missing. During data collection, the field workers had forgotten to note down the number of people in each household. We quickly reported this observation to the boss but he was never disturbed.

"Just type what you have but make an empty column for what is missing," responded the chief. We obeyed, accomplished and submitted the script.

I was interested in knowing whether he would summon his team of field workers and resend them back to the villages to collect such vital details. Instead, what I saw really left me surprised.

In just about ten minutes or less, he had completed the form. He simply guessed figures like 4, 8, 11, 3, e.t.c, without any reference. So the total population of my area according to the information available in that office is totally wrong.

Something else that caught my attention is the issue of grouping households. I tend to think that the field workers never visited the homes. They simply sat round a table and did the whole thing. How can you have a 'Nyumba Kumi' cluster with households as far apart as 2km in such a densely populated area?

The funniest part of it is that some mature people still do not understand which cluster they belong too, their head and even fellow members!

Government Too Busy

As the government focuses its attention on major issues such as development projects for a better Kenya, it must also remain conscious about a population that is apparently like a tree being eaten from the ground.

Some of the things going on in the rural side of Kilifi County where I reside can never be considered as signs of national development, at least according to me.

Old is gold, they say. However, this means nothing to people from this area, particularly the youth. Old men and women of Kilifi have a narrow chance of celebrating their old age because according to most of our youths, they are all witches. They live a life full of fear due to the brutal punishment predetermined for whoever is found, or even suspected, to practice witchcraft. The criteria for detecting witches is one that is only known to the ‘anti-witch campaigners’ themselves, but the reward for such victims of circumstance is very straight forward – death by swords, axes or fire.

Somebody once said, "not all murder cases associated with witchcraft are due to witchcraft. Most of them are as a result of scramble for family property..." Does the government allow this or is it too busy?

Robbery is another enemy of development in Kilifi, especially to business people. The final two or three months of last year were not very friendly even to religious institutions. Apart from the video kiosk near Cassava market of Sokoke ward that was broken into and valuables stolen from in October, at least three churches also suffered from the same crime. Some lost musical instruments while others chairs, none of which was recovered. Now which investor will be ready to start a business around such an insecure area? Who knows, may be the government allows this or is too busy.

Education is the key to success, as a certain school badge reads. If this is true, then success is already out of bounds for many families in Kilifi because the number of students who drop out of school is always on the rise. As if only half-serious, lack of school fees is still being attributed to this phenomenon, at a time when am told bursary funds can be accessed ‘easier’ than ever. I was not convinced until they mentioned the other reason – early pregnancies. Girls from Kilifi no longer see this as a taboo, but just an accident. Such ‘accidents’ have unfortunately become something normal, like the order of the day.

The ‘enlightened’ ones try abortion as a cover-up, as opposed to the rest who simply leave school and get married as soon as they suspect themselves to be expectant. Education is therefore being paralyzed at a shockingly high rate in this area. If the government does not allow this, then it must be very busy.

Comrades furious over 'noisy' couple

Residents of Hostel H forfeited part of their sleep in the early morning of Tuesday 8th July 2014, in a bid to protest against sexual noises from a neighbouring room.

The comrades from one of the floors in one of the wings of the famous males’ hostel woke up at around 4 AM, to the alarm of some sounds produced by a couple in one of the rooms, which suggested them to be in the 18+ act.

The victims of the situation had to come out of their rooms and put off the noise through a collective effort. While shouting in discontent, they continuously knocked the door believed to have hid the noisy love birds without any response from inside.

According to one of them, the situation was becoming habitual and perpetual. It was allegedly being experienced regularly, almost on a daily basis. "Hao watu wamekuwa wakitufanyia kelele tangu hii sem ianze. Hata hatulali bwana..." [Those people have been making such noises since the beginning of this semester. We rarely sleep...], claimed an angry boy.

It did not take long before the complainants finally succeeded in muting the disturbing sounds, which probably forced the husband and wife to go it the silent way if they had to continue. However, the crowd stayed in the corridor for about half an hour longer, just to confirm that the noise would not resume.

Ironically, a few ladies in night dresses were also spotted amongst the crowd. They were thought to have come from the nearby ladies' Hostel J, who may have been attracted by the protesting voices. However, this is less likely, considering the fact that the protest was not too loud – some residents within the host hostel did not even notice the incident.

The Ganze Ward Office

Friday 20th June, 2014. “Yes what about it?” One may ask. Well, that’s what this article is all about. It is the day I paid my first visit to the Ganze Ward office.

You may be surprised why I had never been there before, considering the fact that the occupant of that office has been in power for quite some time, following the March 4th 2013 general elections. Although still under training, as a journalist, I have tried as much as possible not to be friends with any of my leaders. This, according to my thinking, will pose no dilemma when one day I have to report issues concerning them, both good and evil.

I come from Kilifi, a county that is headed by Governor Hon. Amason Kingi, together with Senetor Hon. Stewart Madzayo and Hon. Peter Safari Shehe, the Member of Parliament representing Ganze constituency where I live in. All these are people I have never met. Then there is Hon. Japhet Nzaro, the Member of County Assembly (MCA), Ganze Ward Representative, whose office I at least visited the other day.

The aim of my visit was quite simple. I had submitted my scholarship bursary application form a couple of months ago and had just gone to collect my cheque. To my surprise, there was no cheque for me. I only found my name on a piece of paper, plus the amount awarded. It was in a list of beneficiaries both in secondary schools and higher learning institutions such as universities, colleges and polytechnics. The allocation had already been done but no single cheque had been written.

Mr. Jackson Mangi, the scholarship manager was the one answerable on behalf of the MCA who was absent by then. According to him, the Ganze Ward scholarship account was out of funds. Some money amounting to Ksh. 4.2 million from the county had not yet been released but had already been budgeted for. This was the reason for the unavailability of cheques corresponding to application forms submitted as early as February. Please do not get confused. Ganze ward does not have a separate bursary office; the MCA’s office serves perfectly.

That was the last Friday of my holiday. I was supposed to report back to campus the following Monday, 23rd June, but not without the cheque. I explained this to Jackson and he agreed to write an official letter of commitment to my campus, explaining that I had been allocated a few thousands but due to the delay, the cheque shall arrive at a later date. It worked. I am now in school and was allowed to attend all lectures until July 11th when the payment must have been done. Whatever will happen afterwards in case the payment delays further is still unknown to me.

Now, the letter was handwritten because the office of the honourable does not have typing facilities. The scholarship manager lacks a computer and so does his secretary. In fact from their appearance, I tend to think that none of them has the skills to operate computers. Everything is done manually and this, I believe, has been the cause of all unnecessary delays that my fellow citizens have always complained about. Whenever the committee encounters a task that cannot be done manually, there is a cyber café close to the office where services like typing, photocopying, scanning, etc are offered at a fee. Is it not surprising how that office operates without such basic facilities in this digital era?

As I was going through the list of beneficiaries for the ward bursary funds, I came across some funny trends. Schools around Ganze shopping center where the office is located got the lion’s share. Ganze Boys Secondary had a total of 38 students allocated Ksh. 7000 each while their female counterparts, Ganze Girls had 34. There were 40 names from Godoma Secondary, while Magogoni had 33. On the other hand, it was pathetic for schools slightly away from the office though still within Ganze Ward. Sokoke Boys had 18 beneficiaries while Ngerenya Mixed Jilore and Dungicha could only contribute one student each. Why the huge difference? Is it due to unawareness, favour or just by chance? I really don’t know.

The road connecting my home and the office is tar-marked. Unfortunately, its condition is no longer pleasant. On my return journey, the vehicle I bordered was almost involved in a serious accident. After a little rain, the road became excessively slippery, causing our vehicle to slide towards one side where pedestrians were. It was just due to the grace of the lord that the driver regained control without hurting anyone. Surprisingly, my leaders have never realized that and if they have, then they are either pleased with its condition or still busy with other theoretical ghost projects.

Bye My Pastor

My dear pastor, Raphael Kenga Sokota to be precise, and the entire Calvary Baptist church family;

I am going back to school today. In fact I am on my way now. The holiday was abnormally long, that you may possibly have forgotten where I school, or even the fact that I am still a student. Worry not, I will remind you.

In Rift Valley, a few kilometers past Eldoret town, there is a public university. It is called Moi. You may be surprised why I mentioned the name of a former president. Cool. This is not a person, it is an institution named after him- I dont even know why. The main campus of that university is where I am heading to.

In 2011, the institution sent me a letter through my former high school. It was called 'calling letter'. I was told if I go there, I would spend some four years then come back home with a degree. I agreed and went.

Unfortunately, my university did not keep its promise. It kept on sending me home, calling me back, until I got bored. Four years are not over and I have had six breaks so far. They call them holidays. I wonder how holy those days are.

The most recent one began in mid October last year. Moi told me to come back home briefly then when I left, it forgot that I had not completed my studies yet. I have stayed at home for over eight months now. I forgot everything that I learnt for the past three academic years, but that does not concern you pastor, I will sort myself.

Concerning our church, It is definite that you, in my absence, must look for a replacement. A guitarist that will fit into my shoes, do his/her magic to produce the lowest musical sound, "Duuu! Tu-du-duuu.. Tu-duuu!"

I know the pianists are available in plenty. In fact I retired from playing the piano because so many other youths had already trained to near perfection, though not to my level. As for the bass guitar, I dont know, but I have left a void. I spent a lot of time convincing brothers and sisters-in-Christ to learn how to play the guitar but they all refused, claiming that it is tiresome and painful to the fingers, which is very true.

Have you now understood why you may be forced to hire a skilled guitarist every Sunday and especially when the band wins a contract of performing in a ceremony? If you think I am joking, wait and compare the quality of yesterday's music to that which you will hear next Sunday.

For the past two weeks, I have been showing Kitsao how to switch on the laptop, play music, type documents and shut it down. You wont have much trouble on that. As for the newly acquired mixer, Alfred is quite conversant with its operation- he always watched every time I touched a button. He will be responsible as the operator and in case he encounters a problem, he has my phone numbers.

The bride-to-be, Miss Peris Katana, whose wedding ceremony is scheduled to take place on 20th December, is also aware of my departure and she is not happy. If you get time, cool her down. Yesterday I appointed Walter Kazungu to take over my responsibilities. He will be the patron. I trust in his abilities so the petboys will not complain.

Mathias Randu will act as the youth choir master untill I come back. His voice is almost like mine. He is also aware that for a song to sound melodious, he must categorize the singers' voices into atleast four- soprano, alto, tenor and bass.
What else have I forgotten? Oooh... Yes! In the second Sunday of every month, I am usually the first preacher and program facilitator in third Sundays. You will forgive me because I forgot to hand over these roles to someone else. But dont blame me much, I am also a human being. Maybe I give you a suggestion. Just appoint Pendo (Gye Peshy).
All the announcements have always been made by myself because you, the church, gave me that duty. Thank you. Now that I am going, my assistants, Peterson and Alfred will take over. Even the chairman Mr. Bundi can do it.
Let me just stop there, but not without appreciating you. Thank you for the farewell you organized in my absence and implemented in my presence. I received a couple of presents from brethren that day, especially coins and notes. Let me just say it- the total amount was slightly above Ksh. 1,700. You are great people, God bless you abundantly!
Once I get to campus tomorrow morning, I shall always remember the many memorable moments we shared during my holiday. I will always pray to God that all of us stay alive and well until our next reunion- I dont know when!

Byeeeee....!!!

Exactly what brings success?

This boy comes from a poor background in my village. He thanks the free primary education, a certain previous government initiative, otherwise he would not have known what 3+2 equals to.

Charo, 18, is a bright boy who speaks my native language. He is counting days before sitting for his KCSE examination this year, beginning October- thanks to the scholarship bursaries and support from relatives that have pushed him through in his local high school.

However, this aspiring nurse admits to undergo a little psychological unrest and this is where my interest was baited.

Charo believes in his abilities. His aim is to get a mean grade of 'A' plain if his dream of becoming a medic has to come true. This, according to him, would not disturb him if he were 'somewhere else'.

He thinks his school might betray him. According to statistics, the highest grade the institution has ever produced is B plain and that was 2007. Should history repeat itself, then he will be forced to give up on nursing and probably opt for another degree programme.

Charo blames no one for this but the situation. As he struggles in his small school, others are 'relaxed' in larger institutions such as Starehe, Mangu, Alliance, among others, where an 'A' is almost guaranteed for each candidate registered under their names. At one point in life, I also found myself in such fears.

When I was in form four in 2009, at St. Georges High School, the top ten students based on merit from the first term's examination results in each form were given a motivational present by the then principal, Mr. Vitallis Majeni. It was called 'achievers' trip'. The 40 of us were taken for an academic tour to Starehe Boys Center and School in Nairobi, in order to learn what makes its students always perform better than us.

According to me, the objective of the tour was never met. The only lesson I learnt from it was that I was inferior to them. I reaped an element of cowardice and complete eradication of my prior confidence. I kept wondering if, with just a few months remaining, I was going to be ready enough to compete with the boys I had just interacted with in a common national examination.

Starehe is among many schools in Kenya whose major aim is to manufacture more grade A's than any other school so as to be ranked the best in the country. Principals and subject teachers will do anything in their powers to achieve this. For this reason, Charo considers students in such schools as almost guaranteed the highest possible grades, unlike him, and he is not happy about it.

The result of this is an education system that drifts from the expected purpose of imparting competitive knowledge to students. They are now taught how to pass exams. At the end, they become 'bright on paper'. Holders of glittering certificates but bearers of empty brains. People who cannot relate the education they have with common logic and realities of life. They know the correct answers to Physics or Geography questions but no not understand why those answers are correct.

The real effect will be felt in future, especially if this scenario diffuses into universities and colleges. With the emergence of numerous institutions of higher learning, both private and public, negative competition may start to show up. The country may therefore be preparing for an era of professionals with less competence than expected.

Back to the high school thing, the question that one may easily ask is, "Are schools up to providing quality education to students or generating maximum grade A's in order to attain supremacy?" However, my question is different, with reference to Charo' imaginations. Should a student's success be determined by his/her effort or the institution?