The extraordinary Clifton School

Leaving the luxury of Nata Lodge, we started our journey south to Francistown, and of course, there were other things to be negotiated. Botswana is trying very hard to establish itself as a major Beef producing country, and it is extremely diligent in its fight against Foot and Mouth disease. It has erected veterinary fences every 100 Kms or so, and at this one it is necessary to drive your vehicle through a deep disinfectant trough, then go and stand in a tray of the stuff, and, more than that, take out every pair of shoes and sandals in your car and put them through the disinfectant as well. Needless to say, it is always a chance for Terry and Vic to do their tap dancing routine - or what passes as one anyway.

We arrived back in Francistown, and Vic and Terry had both lived there at different times, so both knew the town very well. Vic knew where the school was located, and we were soon driving through the security gates and entering a different world.

I entered the school full of trepidation, Vic and Terry teasing me all the time about where I might end up, and what a long walk it was going to be to get back to Gaborone if it all went wrong. Within seconds a lovely, tall slender blonde lady appeared and introduced herself as Larry. Lorraine really, but Larry to all and sundry. The Boys left, and I was taken down to Larry and her husband Ian's lovely house in the grounds. Freshened up, Larry took me back, passing the tennis courts, the cricket field and the swimming pool and into the staff room to meet other teachers, including Nerine, the teacher who looks after the Library, the Computer suite and lots of other things as well, and is also responsible for organising the International Book Week events for Clifton School. I was totally unprepared for this amazing school. Where in the UK would you find schools with ponds and pools unguarded yet planted with wonderful trees and shrubs, and the children do not throw litter, or more to the point, each other, into them?
The Strelizia was growing in Larry and Ian's garden, and I was really surprised to see it in full bloom - I never thought I would see one as a garden flower.

The small pool in a space just outside the office block and staff room, has palm trees planted in it, and the masked weaver birds were building their nests in it with great diligence. Those nests are a work of art. They build two or more nests, and then the female comes along and inspects them and chooses which one she will accept. If none is acceptable, she will destroy them, and the poor male has to start all over again! I stood for ages watching them, and wishing like crazy that my video camera had not broken down at Victoria Falls. (It had obviously got some mist into it, and that was the end of that!) The birds first nip the end of a palm frond, then pull a long ribbon off it and proceed to weave that ribbon into a perfect sphere with a little opening and such is the perfection, you would be forgiven for thinking that they had a tennis ball inside them to work around.


The school has wonderful facilities, including swimming pool and tennis courts, and is set in the most beautiful grounds. The staff, generally, live on campus in lovely detached houses but it is not a residential school. The school is fee paying but is mixed race and there appears to be absolutely no problems of discrimination in any way whatsoever. It is Christian based, and the staff have a very caring attitude to their work. The Head teacher, Polly, is truly inspirational and time and again I wished that I had had such a caring teaching staff for my children, or indeed, for me.
Most of the staff are refugees from Zimbabwe, and what a tremendous benefit Botswana is reaping from their decision to come to Francistown, the nearest large town to the border with Zimbabwe.

School starts at 7.30am and formal lessons end about 12.30pm by which time it is almost too hot to think, let alone work. However, after a half hour break, the extra-curricular activities start, and the staff again run these. There are all manner of sports clubs, computer clubs, arts and crafts clubs, Music and drama, indeed, you name it, there seems to be something on offer to cover it. This of course also means that the staff have one of the longest working days anywhere. Many days they do not finish work until well after 5.30pm and then, and only then, have to settle down to marking books and preparing lessons for the next day or week. They have a long holiday which is in their midsummer, and coincides with our winter and Christmas, but again, it is rarely longer than the 6 weeks that our own children get.

The International Book Week was fascinating and culminated in a full day of celebration of literature. Each child was told to come to school dressed as their favourite character from a book. Needless to say, there were many Harry Potters and other characters from those books. However, the range of books covered a very wide taste. There was no escape for the staff, either, and they were also expected to dress up as well. Nerine cycled up to the school on her Bike dressed as Mrs Armitage from Mrs Armitage on Wheels, and Larry was Nancy from Oliver Twist. (Here she is on the left of the picture).

I spoke to every class, and at each one I had decided that since I had been thrown into the deep end, I would just get the children to ask questions - considering that being better than me telling them lots of boring things they would not necessarily want to know. We had lots of laughs, and the children were such a refreshing change from those I encounter here. Polite but relaxed, I was asked many varied questions, and at one point a little boy put his hand up and said in a very shy voice 'How old are you?'. His teacher spluttered that you should not ask questions like that. I laughed and asked why not? We are constantly asking children how old they are, so why is it wrong for them to ask us. 'I'm 63' I answered, laughing. 'WOW' came a loud chorus of replies. This was not meant as an exclamation that I look younger than I am, I am sure. It was simply that they just don't see many old people in Botswana. The mortality rate is 42 for women, and 37 for men, and most people leave the country when they reach the time to retire and go to more temperate climates, so I was suddenly something of a curiosity! I must say, I felt like Methuselah for a few minutes, but soon we were all falling about laughing and joking, and I know the children were delighted to have found out that you can still laugh when you get old. Of course many wanted to know how much money you make from writing, but the thing I wanted to get across to them most was that living a good happy life was, and always will be, more important than any amount of money. I told them that my philosophy is that I can only sleep in one bed at a time and I can only eat one meal at a time, and anything other than that is not important.
The procession they held in their literary costumes was very enjoyable - and the teenies from the neighbouring nursery school were brought round to watch. I could not resist taking this photo of them going back to their school afterwards, as they each walked with their hands on the shoulders of the child in front of them.

I was so fortunate during my stay, because another of the ladies of the Book Club, and this was one I had had a long chat with whilst at Garden Lodge, had arranged to pick me up and show me around the town whilst Larry was still working in the afternoons. Martie is a geologist, and also knows the area very thoroughly. She took me to visit the local women's co-operative, where they print cotton fabric with wonderful ethnic designs. I came away with a lovely table cloth that will actually fit my table when it is fully extended to its 10ft length. I was then shown this large flat boulder with three deep indentations. Martie explained to me that it is where the very first people to refine gold had worked and the only one she had come across that was not enclosed inside private land. She is actively campaigning for there to be some sort of sign erected to tell people about it, as it is a very important site in terms of the history of Botswana. So far she has had no luck.

During the drive around town, I did a double take when I caught sight of this which turned out to be just a sign for a local night club and made out of fibre glass!

I was also taken to a fantastic health spa, and treated to a wonderful massage and pampering session. What a fabulous way to be treated by a group of complete strangers who have now become amongst my best friends. Before leaving, I was asked if I could get hold of some stage makeup, indeed any makeup, so that they could put on their school plays not only with the right costumes, but with the right makeup. They also had problems getting hold of craft materials - it matters not what money you have, if the goods are not there to be bought, you can not buy them. I promised I would do all I could to help. They also, through Nerine, have a very active outreach programme, helping children a lot less fortunate than themselves, and through that programme I felt I would also be able to channel any help that I could give.

I had had a text message from Vic, telling me that I must get back to Gaborone on the Friday morning at the latest, as other plans were afoot. I didn't know what the plans were, but told Larry, and it was arranged that they would fly me back on the early flight with Air Botswana, and Vic would be at the airport in Gaborone to pick me up. I would arrive back at 10.30am. On such clear morning, it was wonderful to see the country from the air, and managed to get a shot of a gold mine. (My camera was not accurate on the date!)

So, it was back to yet another wonderful surprise, and one I was totally delighted about.