H1 Brunei Darussalam (7) Menglait and Hazwan

9/11, Menglait, Afghanistan and Hazwan

I had very little to do with management in Brunei but there was one important incident well worth relating in detail as it concerned 9/11.

The day after 9/11 I remember trying to explain to the students of a relief class what had happened –with the aid of a little drawing on the board. The students seemed to have very little understanding of the significance of the event.

Very soon after this Afghanistan was invaded and this did produce a quite unusual reaction on the part of one teacher. One of the local teachers who used to chat about football to me sidled up to me in the library and made a snide remark to the effect that there had been a ‘good win’ last night for Palestinians.

This was an unusual  remark-because most Bruneians were never overtly political in this way.  Not long after this a bizarre incident occurred which sheds much light on the management style of the Brunei Ministry of Education.

Just before the end of school one day I was told by my H.O.D. that the Principal had instructed her to take me off one of my form four classes and give me another one.

I was surprised of course, and asked why. She said it was something to do with a student disciplinary issue in the new class. This sounded odd to me–because the new class was the top class in the year and there should not be any disciplinary issues in such a class! I was intrigued.

When did I start? The next day!

 The HOD  wouldn’t tell me anything more –something about  which I was annoyed. But it was typical of expatriates s to imitate the behaviour of the local management style

I started teaching the new class the next day determined to succeed where apparently the other teacher had failed. I deliberately did not inquire about the identity of the ‘difficult’ student as I did not want to be walking on eggshells with him or her all the time. There were only fourteen in the class –and after several classes I still had no idea no idea who the problem student was.

Then one day a boy arrived at my class and said that the Deputy Principal wanted to see me.

This was most unusual at Menglait-to be called out of class. I followed the student up to the office and the deputy Principal-a formidable lady in her own right ushered me in to a room where I was introduced to the parent of the student who had caused the problem with the other teacher.

This lady was seated and she said

“Good morning Don , do you know who I am?”

“Actually, No!

I said-half-smiling and half- grimacing as I could tell by this time that this was probably a very important person.”

“I am the Director of schools”

“I see..”

“And my boy  is a very good student of English. You will have no problems with him”

I then realized that I had just been ‘vetted’ by the Director of schools.

 Her boy was in fact  quite arrogant.

 But fortunately for me he enjoyed my English classes which I was able to rearrange with a little extra effort. So much so that the Deputy Principal was eternally grateful to me and thenceforth thought the sun shined out of my rear end.

 The boy  had apparently wanted to discuss the US invasion of Afghanistan with his previous English teacher –who was an Indian lady.

This was a natural thing for a young man with an enquiring mind to want to do. But in Brunei it was very dangerous for the Indian teacher. So, the teacher had forbidden discussion of the subject and the boy had complained to “Mummy’ about not being able to discuss it. He had  also gone to the Principal.

I believe the fact that he enjoyed my class gave me 'protection' (through his mother)  in Brunei  from overbearing bureaucrats and bossy school Principals for three or four years. Eventually, of course, 'Mummy' forgot who I was and I spent the last year or two without protection again. The boy is probably a Minister in the Government by now.

Most of the staff were quite pleasant –but there was one – who actively disliked me. I do not know why but she was rude to the point of cutting me cold. Perhaps I upset her over my use of the computer lab one day without her permission -I’m not sure.

That was the problem-Bruneians were generally good-natured but they could be so touchy and you could upset people without doing very much at all. This lady  definitely had it in for me.

No, Menglait was pretty good overall but after four years it began to pall. There was simply so little happening professionally.

And yet I was trapped in Brunei because I knew the international school was so good for the children and for Maria who was now teaching kiindergarten at the International school. I couldn’t leave.

Evolution of teaching style at Menglait.

Regarding the teaching it was a case of adapt or die. It was a tough environment physically. The school resembled a bombed out Dresden relic. It was originally a primary school. The classrooms were old , filthy, ill-maintained and stiflingly hot. Some had fans and none had air-conditioning. It always amazed me that in Brunei all manner of lowly workers from shop assistants to waitresses all worked in an air-conditioned environment but not the students or teachers.

Most of the kids were hopelessly ill-equipped to cope with an academic program which I had studied myself forty years previously as a native speaker!

About twenty percent of the students could get a bare pass –and about one percent of the final cohort could get a credit!

And our school was by no means the worst.

The schooling process was clearly just a sieve to sift out the brighter students who were to become the administrative elite in the Government and run the country.

The rest counted for nothing. The fact that ninety percent of the students failed was of no importance to anyone.

Many of the students at Menglait knew they had no chance of benefitting from the system and consequently most of them were very poorly motivated. Nevertheless, they still enjoyed coming to school –not to study –but to socialize. Malays are a playful and very sociable people-and the boys and girls loved coming to school where they could meet others outside the strictly controlled environment of their own homes.