As the Coalition forces prepare to pull out, other Brits commit to real ‘nation-building’ — educating the next generation. Mary Wakefield reports from rural Afghanistan
Snow melts in the Hindu Kush, trickles through the foothills, sluices across flood plains scattered with pink anemones then runs noisily through Worsaj district down to the village of Qanduz, where it is drowned out by the sound of children shouting, ‘I love you!’ They’re either side of a dirt track, the children, throwing glitter, clapping, waving plastic flowers. In front of me, Sarah Fane, the object of their devotion, shakes hands and accepts so many garlands that soon only her eyes are showing above the frills.
This is the welcome Blair dreamt of in Iraq, I think, watching her; the welcome neither Obama nor Cameron can hope for now they’ve effectively given up here in Afghanistan. It’s the welcome our daft new Defence Secretary forfeited when he said last week that Britain was not in ‘this broken, 13th-century country’ for the sake of education, because education is exactly the business Sarah’s in. She raises money in England and then, with the help of the Swedish Committee in Afghanistan and local teachers, she builds schools. As the military makes for the exit, Sarah and co make plans to educate the next generation.
We’re fed tea, led to a table where we sit, decorated like Christmas trees, while the children’s headmaster makes a speech. This is, in fact, not a welcome so much as an ambush. The head heard that Sarah was in Worsaj, he’s seen schools she’s built further down the valley, ogled their cricket bats and computers. He has 1,700 pupils, most of them doing lessons in a field. They need classrooms. Can she help?
As Sarah thinks, a great wall of girls opposite jostle and stare: older ones in burkas; little ones caked in dust. Behind them, their village: mud-brick houses, oxen pulling ploughs, wheat fields, cherry trees. This is the other Afghanistan, the one you don’t see on TV: joyful, independent, heart-breakingly beautiful. All eyes are on Sarah. I expect her to point out how tricky it is to raise cash but she says: ‘I’ll try, I promise.’ The head smiles tentatively and the girl-wall collapses, burying several of the smaller ones under the scrum.
More articles from: Mary Wakefield | this section
Post this entry to: del.icio.us | Digg | Newsvine | NowPublic | Reddit
Advertisement
1,700 Unusual Christmas Presents Request Catalogue 01935 815 195 Quote SPEC10 for 10% discount www.presentfinder.co.uk
Pimilco based Florist with online ordering Web: www.olivebranch.net Tel: 020 7630 1868 Fax: 020 7233 8844
62 Shore Road, Warsash, Southampton, SO31 9FT Telephone: 01489 578867 Web site: www.ruffs.co.uk
Apollo Magazine | Corporate | Advertising | Privacy | Terms
Spectator, 22 Old Queen Street, London, SW1H 9HP
All Articles and Content Copyright ©2012 by The Spectator | All Rights Reserved
Minnie Ovens
May 28th, 2010 12:21pm Report this commentI hqave not heard of Sara Fane before but I have the utmost respect for her and her motives.
I also find Ms Wakefields article somewhat short but to the point and very accurate.
Thanks to both of you but the key statement is that of K when remarking that it will only take 24 hours for all policing to collapse after a pull out.
Unless the whole country has the will and the leaders then it is all for nought. You might as well have been in Burma!
As John Paul Vann found out in Vietnam, unless you have basic pan country structure you haven't a hope in hell.
But a very thoughtful article.
Back to top