Meditations on post-secondary education

Editor’s note: I had kind of forgotten about this post, which I wrote late last week, but still wanted to put it up. Now that I officially have Internet at my place, it will hopefully be the last time there’s a disconnect between the writing and posting of these, but probably not. And I realize that I haven’t posted any photos yet – truth is I haven’t taken any – but I’ll try to buck that trend soon.

This afternoon, among other parts of Freetown, we toured Fourah Bay College, the oldest university/college in West Africa, founded in 1827. Boasting a stunning view from atop the city’s Mount Aureol, the campus seemed aptly positioned for inspiration in spite of its sometimes time-worn buildings.

As we took a break in the small outdoor café and I sipped my Vimto (think Grape C-Plus), ABJ, an awesome Sierra Leonean journalist with JHR and a student at Fourah Bay, pointed out the square where students gather for political demonstrations and high-minded discussions.

We had a good conversation about life at the university, and it was interesting for me to compare with my own university experience back home. The impression I got was that the students of Fourah Bay don’t take their education lightly; the campus had an air of a university in the old romantic sense – a sort of sanctuary of learning.

Which is to say that, save for a few refreshing pockets, it was nothing like Laurier.

Of course, my hands are too stained with the sins of neglecting my studies to admonish my peers from the pulpit. I was – rather, still am – a poor student. Hell, I’m nearly two weeks late with my first assignment for my distance ed. course as I write this.

But there was a time, throughout first year and much of my second year, when I was excited about my studies. The whole environment here just gave me pause for reflection.

I’ve often waxed philosophical on my issues with the Canadian school system, particularly how it pushes such a high percentage of its students towards university, neglecting the skilled trades and setting up many students for failure. Sierra Leone doesn’t do that. It couldn’t, even if it wanted to.

But I couldn’t help but wonder if I wouldn’t take the sickly stray dogs strewn about a campus that can’t justify superfluous annual renovations over the ugg boots and indifference that so often pervades Canada’s highest halls of academia.

Besides, Fourah Bay’s radio station had amazing equipment and an FM broadcast frequency that spans the entire country. Perhaps their student union actually like them.