Madagascar's Education System

Imagine you are back in high school. Let's say you are in your third
year of Spanish and have already learned quite a bit. But about a
third of the students in your class are, because of bad teachers or a
lack of effort or both, essentially beginners. They have had two years
of Spanish already, and received failing grades both times, but they
were passed anyway. While it sounds like something out of a dystopian
novel, this is reality in Madagascar's education system.

I teach seconde (10th grade) level English, which is students' fifth
year of the language, yet the vast majority of my students are at a
beginner's level. This causes numerous problems for me in the
classroom.

First, it holds down the rest of the class, who might have benefited
from more of a challenge but will not get it because of how many
students already fail when classes are easy. Second, it makes teaching
the required material from the curriculum very difficult. Teaching the
most basic grammar points is made tedious by the lengthy explanations
and definitions required to get one's point across to the low level
students. Third, adequate help cannot be given to struggling students,
even the most dilligent and motivated ones, because it would put the
rest of the class behind. Students take common exams by grade level
and must also be adequately prepared for their baccalaureate exams at
the end of lycee (high school), so falling behind is not an option.

As I alluded to, a part of the problem is teachers, who are generally
not very good (especially at the CEG [middle school] level, and
especially in rural areas). And part of the problem is a lack of time,
as students receive just two to four hours of instruction per week,
depending on their school (most get three). Resources are also
non-existent, of course, and the national English curriculum is poorly
written, ineffective and irrelevant to students' lives, not to mention
the fact that it has not been updated since 1996!

But in my view, the education system as a whole is the main culprit.
Madagascar was a French colony, so its education system was "given" to
it by the French. I can't speak to the state of the French education
system today, nor in 1960 when Madagascar became independant, for that
matter. So I can't really say what is the same here and in France and
what is different. But I do know that here, the entire system
essentially has not changed since independance.

As if missing out on decades of improvements in educational philosophy
and teaching methods wasn't bad enough, the education system given to
Madagascar by the French has allowed the wide range in proficiency
found in Malagasy classrooms. For those who are unfamiliar with it,
here is a brief overview:

Students at the CEG and lycee levels (middle and high school) remain
with the same group of students (their class) for all subjects. Every
term, they receive grades for each class out of 20, with 10 considered
a passing grade (This remains a part of the French system, where exams
are written to be very difficult.). An overall average of 10 or
better at the end of the year lets a student go on to the next level.

And here is where the problems really begin. A student could easily
get a 5 out of 20 in English and go on to the next grade level. And in
that next level, they take the next level of English (as well as every
other subject), since they remain with the same group of students for
each subject. It is in this way that students can fail a subject year
after year and continue to move on without a problem. They are not
very motivated to learn English as it is, and since a failing grade is
averaged into the rest of their grades, they have almost no
consequences for getting one.

This passing of failing students has to be one of the great problems
with Madagascar's education system. Unfortunately, the colonial
mentality still present here prevents Malagasy people from effecting
meaningful change in the structures left to them by the French
(basically, if the French told us to do it, it must be good, since
they are a developed country).

The current education system is not good for Madagascar or its
students. The American system of having different groups of students
for each subject, regardless of grade level, would be so much more
effective here. Students would be more motivated to pass each class
since failing would mean retaking it the following year. And since
classes would be grouped according to student proficiency rather than
grade level, teachers would be able to give students of all levels
they help they need. Since failing students would be kept behind,
achieving students could get the challenges they need to improve in
regular classes, while failing students would have a chance to relearn
the material and get more detailed explanations.

Oh, and this isn't even considering the fact that English might not be
for all students. All Malagasy students are required to take French
and English (the latter beginning in sixieme [sith grade]), and some
end up taking Spanish or German as well. Yet students in American high
schools choose one foreign language to take at a time, not two or
three, and those who meet minimum requirements and wish to stop do so.
But here, even students on the non-humanities tracks must take English
through the end of lycee (high school). Obviously, motivating them is
even harder.

I can't imagine the situation here improving much without radical
changes to the education system as a whole. And such changes need not
be overwhelming. The current system could be phased out in stages, or
current students could be grandfathered in. Malagasy people are the
ones with the most at stake, so they are the ones who would best be
able to figure out such solutions. But the impetus for change must
come first, and I can't imagine that coming for a long time. Yet the
idealist and optimist that I am, I'll hold out hope that Madagascar
soon gets a new set of leaders who will break with the past and get
the country onto a path of reform and development. Hoping, but not
holding my breath either.#End

Is Cheating Malagasy Fomba?

We've just wrapped up exam week here at the lycee in Ambato, and sitting in a classroom for hours at a time trying to prevent cheating reminded me of something that happened while I was training the most recent group of volunteers here in Madagascar. I was leading a session on testing, and said that cheating is so bad here that it is a part of Malagasy fomba (culture or custom). The Malagasy Peace Corps staff member in the room vehemently disagreed, but I maintained my position. However, months on, I started wondering whether I was too harsh in my judgment.

To be sure, cheating is rampant here. About a fifth of the assignments turned in by one of my classes were identical to another one, and several others clearly plagarized theirs from outside sources. Despite being interspersed with students from different levels for exam week, five students sitting near each other came up with the same response for an example of an apology ("I am sorry I am forget you"). And my fellow English teaching Peace Corps Volunteers have much more glaring examples of this behavior.

To make matters worse, teachers don't seem to be as concerned about cheating as one might expect. Some exam proctors will leave the room unattended for a period of time, or simply not watch carefully to prevent cheating. Judging by the lack of effort of students to alter copied responses, I don't imagine many teachers here catch plagarism after the fact by comparing responses. (I should add that teachers at my school are overworked and underpaid.) All in all, there is what we would call in the US a "culture of cheating" in the schools of Madagascar.

Of course, cheating remains a problem in the Western world as well. Two German ministers have resigned in as many years after it was revealed that they plagarized their doctoral dissertations. News reports might warn us of a "cheating crisis" in American schools. But in the US, students overwhelmingly do not cheat, even when given the opportunity. (Those who disagree have not seen a Malagasy classroom.) Why is there such a difference? I have a couple of theories.

For one, the consequences of cheating are much greater in the US. Here in Madagascar, it is common for students to receive a simple point deduction for cheating in the rare case they are caught and punished. In the US, a zero grade on the assignment is generally the minumum acceptable punishment.

Second, individual achievement is valued much more in the US at large, whereas groups of people are almost always involved in doing work or solving problems in Madagascar. Bush taxi broke down? Expect at least two of your fellow passengers to get out and help fix it, even if all they do is watch and offer unhelpful advice. The group work phenomenon is so prevalent here that its seepage into the classroom on exam day is inevitable, with the upshot that Malagasy people are not learning to solve problems on their own. Coupled with a severe deficit in critical thinking skills, this has an extremely detrimental effect on Madagascar's intellectual capital.

So is cheating Malagasy fomba? Malagasy culture? While culture is important, focusing on it at the expense of looking at society as a whole leaves out a big part of the picture. Something may be inacceptable according to Malagasy culture, yet be just as widespread as rice is in Malagasy society. So if we use "culture" as our definition of fomba, it's quite possible that Malagasy fomba does not condone cheating. But if we consider fomba to be the general practices or customs of people within society, cheating is certainly a part of Malagasy fomba.

What does this mean for Madagascar? For one, the culture of cheating, whether or not it is a part of Malgasy culture, needs to be eliminated. This means stricter punishments, better enforcement, and most of all, a change in attitudes towards cheating. Children need to be taught to be ashamed of cheating and strive to be as honest in academics as they are in the rest of their lives.

But also, Malagasy people need to examine their culture, society, and fomba, and begin changing or leaving behind the parts that are detrimental to their development as individuals and as a country. I could have just as easily written this post about another problem that needs to be addressed here, such as alcoholism. And ultimately, it is up to Malagasy people themselves to solve such problems, though I hope that the rest of us can help out along the way. I know my fellow PCVs and I are doing our best. #End