A house leaps up from the earth.

House 7 seems to be jumping up from out of the ground. I don't see it often except by night walking to and from my supper. On weekends if I need a walk I'll pass by. Blocks are up about head level, it has a real presence now.

We are being visited by an Angel.

Ellinor Angel arrived via the wings of British Airlines and dived right in. Reading to children from the new books she brought with her. Today, she and I visited our school library and talked about what kind of books we need. Always the librarian, out of the few books we have, she managed to find a few more useful one for my class.

The school jumps a couple centuries forward:

The school will have its first computer, perhaps by Monday. A large step into the present.

The stories of the children:

Ms. Mwanza class has been doing their stories and I entered them on the computer (in the Chishawasha Office) so I could print them out, 'publish' them so to speak. So I was reading their stories in my class at my desk where my students wouldn't get to questioning me. I felt that they were too young and not ready for any heavy writing. But students can tell when I am interested in something and not sharing it. Quickly invented reasons would cause them to linger within view of my material. Finally I was nailed. "We want to do that," was all I could hear. So I agreed that we could try it, if they wanted. Since they wanted to do it, it took little urging on my part and I have been surprised by the results. Nothing as polished as the 7th graders, but a lot of effort and I think they have written more than they have ever been required to do.

It has not been all lightness and roses. Each of these kids has been through a lot and in helping them edit their work, a simple confusion of sentences, tenses, spellings, and general usage will unearth some painful memories with no warning. I would say to them, we don't have to do this, you can write about anything else you want. But none gave up. There are places that appear harmless where I know not to tread from previous attempts and tissues.

So here are some more 7th and 5th graders stories:

Brian is usually an eager student, better than average. He came forward to help me teach younger students during my vacation teaching stint. He seemed patient and attentive as a teacher. He is moody, but not unusually so for a teenager. He has been sick for a time and has not finished his story, so this is the first installment:

The Story of My Life

My name is Brian Banda. I live in Zambia.

I am 14 years old and am in grade five at Colin B. Glassco Primary School. If you want to come, you can find me. I have friends at home and at school. I like dancing and singing, but that is not my talent. My talent is basketball.

I was born in 1994 in November.

My mother died when I was in grade 1, but I wanted to keep my mind in school. I didn't see my father before he died. My mother told me that my father died before I was born and that made me cry.

When she was dying, my mother told me one word, "Don't give up on your life, learn how to be at home and school."

When both parents were dead, I was staying with my aunt. My aunt was good, but her husband was bad to me. One day my aunt was working and her husband was not. He wanted everything at the same time when I cooked for him, then he was refusing what I made. He told me that he was not the one who killed my parents. "So get out of my sight! Go away! I don't want to see you in this house again. I can kill you right now, get out!
[this is as far as Brian has gotten, I think installment II will be happier. Ed.]


I forget from time to time that my two diminutive students Ireen and Marvin are sister and brother and sometimes I am intruding in a family argument when they are not getting along. Ireen may be small, but she has sufficient attitude to make up for it. She knows what she wants and has a withering look, if she doesn't get it. He brother is a distracted class member who I think of as the echo. He repeats whatever you say, never quite paying attention. If he hasn't asked what I just said, I have to go over and give him separate instructions.

My Story
by Ireen Kangwa

Hi, I just want to tell you about my story. I am in grade 5. I learn at Chishawasha. My name is Ireen Kangwa. I am ten years old. I was born in 1998.

My mother's name is Memory Moyo. My father's name is Marvin Kangwa. My brothers name is Marvin Kangwa.

When I was three years old my mother left me. My grandmother's name is Ireen Mwtnogo. My grandfather's name is Tryson Moyo. I have four aunts, they are Fefb [best the ed. could do], Ruth, Bertha and Agnes. My uncles are Moses, David and Stanley. My mother was a good woman and father was a good man. When I finish my education I will be a teacher. Both my parents died, my mother in 2002 and father in 2005.

I like school so much and my brother also like school too. I have many friends at home and at school. I like my aunt because when I say something, she will give me what I want.

Thank you aunt and uncle.

Story of My Life
by Marvin Kangwa

Hi boys and girls, I just want to tell you about my story. I am 13 years old. I was born in 1996. I am from Chishawasha and am in grade five.

My mother's name was Sallely and my father's name was Marvin. When I was 10 years old, is when my mother died. I was so sad, she died in 2006 and my father died the same year.

My grandfather's name is Stanley. I have a sister named Ireen Kangwa.

My mother was a good mother and my father was a good dad. Both parents have left me.

I like school so much and so does my sister Ireen. I have many friends at school and friends at home. I like my aunt, my sister, grandmother and grandfather. When I finish my education, I will be a doctor. Thank you.

Several of the girls on their own have continued their writing by posting "My Dearest Mother" messages, expressing their love for their mother repetitively.

This is Sam blog-pressing out of Africa