Dear Editor,
Education in The Gambia is supposed to be our ladder lifting children from poverty, guiding youth into leadership, and shaping a future we can all be proud of. But today, that ladder is broken in many places. Whether you walk into an English or Arabic school, you’ll hear the same quiet frustration: “Our children are trying, but the system is failing them.”
This isn’t just about grades. It’s about dignity, opportunity, and the kind of nation we want to build.
What’s going wrong and why it hurts
1. Teachers who’ve lost their purpose
Too many teachers are in classrooms they no longer deserve to be in. Not because they’re bad people but because the only reason they’re still teaching is, “He’s been here for years, we can’t remove him.” That mindset kills progress. Teaching should be earned, not inherited.
2. Language that doesn’t speak to us
Children are taught in English or Arabic before they’ve even mastered their mother tongue. They sit in silence, not because they’re lazy, but because they don’t understand. We’re teaching them to memorise, not to think.
3. Arabic schools: Exams without learning
Most Arabic schools rely on just two term exams. No class work, no homework, no follow-up. Students pass without being pushed. Unlike English schools, where Grade 9 exams cover three years of content and WASSCE spans Grades 10–12, Arabic schools often treat each grade like a closed chapter. Some students even give away their books after Grade 10 before they’ve even started Grade 11.
4. Amana: A sleeping watchdog
The body meant to accredit Arabic schools (Amana) is not living up to its role. Without strong oversight, many Arabic schools drift without standards, without accountability, and without vision.
5. Broken classrooms, broken spirits
In many schools, desks are missing, toilets are unusable, and textbooks are shared by five students. How can a child dream in a place that doesn’t even have clean water?
6. Curriculum that ignores our realities
English schools teach foreign concepts with little local relevance. Arabic schools focus only on religious memorisation. Where is the civic education? The practical skills? The emotional intelligence?
7. Poverty that steals potential
Some students walk miles to school hungry. Others drop out to help their families survive. Girls are pulled out for marriage or chores. Education becomes a luxury, not a right.
8. Parents who unknowingly discourage learning
Some parents, out of frustration or misunderstanding, speak harsh words to their children: “You’re wasting your time,” or “You’ll never succeed.” Others don’t even ask if their child has opened a book after school. No encouragement, no follow-up, no praise. A child’s spirit can be broken not just by a system but by silence at home.
What we can do together
1. Put passion back into teaching
Let’s train teachers who care. Let’s evaluate them fairly. And yes let’s remove those who no longer serve the students. Respect must go both ways.
2. Start with the languages we speak
Use local languages in early grades to build confidence and understanding. Then gradually introduce English or Arabic. Let children feel smart in their own tongue.
3. Fix the Arabic school assessment system
Introduce class work, homework, and oral presentations. Make exams cumulative. Let students know: “You will need this book again.” Learning should be layered, not disposable.
4. Wake up Amana
Amana must rise to its responsibility. Set clear standards. Visit schools. Support teachers. And most importantly listen to students.
5. Invest in infrastructure
Let every child sit on a proper chair. Let every school have clean water. Let every classroom have light. These are not luxuries they are basics.
6. Reform the curriculum
Blend religious and secular knowledge. Teach civic responsibility, entrepreneurship, and emotional intelligence. Let students learn how to live, not just how to pass.
7. Support families, especially girls
Create school feeding programs. Offer scholarships. Protect girls from early marriage. Education must be a shield, not a sacrifice.
8. Empower parents as partners
Train parents to support learning at home. Encourage them to ask questions, check homework, and speak words of hope. A simple “I believe in you” can change a child’s future.
A final word
This is not just a political science paper. It’s a call from one student to a nation. I’ve walked the halls of our universities. I’ve taught in classrooms where students shine despite the odds. I’ve seen brilliance in children who are told they’re failures. We owe them better.
Let us fix our schools not just with policies, but with purpose. Let us make education a source of pride again. And let us never forget: when we lift a child, we lift a nation.
Omar A Suwareh
Final semester political science student
UTG
