TRUE STORIES FROM BURKINA FASO PUPILS: ONE DAY IN THE LIFE
The map of Burkina Faso
Dear Colleagues, students and e-mates:
Welcome to the DEFI blog! This page is dedicated to the online project called "One day in the Life". More than 50 pupils are engaged in this special stories exchange posting. They are from the following grammar schools: Lycée Diaba Lompo (LDL), Lycée Privé Sabil El Nadjah (LPSEN), Lycée Privé Yembuaro(LPY) and Université Populaire Africaine(UPA). In the beginning they were about 500 desiring to participate to this activity but due to the lack of computer labs we were obliged to restrict their number to 50 students.
We will be glad to receive your comments.
Best regards, Hubert Pagbelguem
Below are the first 4 stories; the rest will follow.
Form 1 pupils from Lycée Diaba Lompo during a written English course.
ONE DAY IN THE LIFE
My father's death
Authentic story told by Ouoba Louta, a girl of 19, form 7 (Terminale D), Lycée Privé Sabil El Nadjah:
(slightly corrected by the group and the English teacher)
The day that I will never forget is the following:
On Monday, October 27th 2004 I woke up at 6 o'clock and brushed my tooth, had a bath and breakfast. When I was ready to go to school I greeted my father and Mama and parted. My school is located at 4 km way from our house and I have to ride a bicycle to reach there.
In Fada N'Gourma my town, classes begin from 7.00 GMT and end at 12.00. That day we had French class and our teacher was Mister Bancé. The course was about the use past participles and the teacher was presenting the course. Thirty minutes later someone knocked at the classroom door and Mister Bancé went out to see who was there. I saw the clothes of the person standing outside and recognized it was Bendi's (my aunt). She was telling something to my French teacher but no student in the class could here the words.
Finally the conversation took end and the teacher came with a sad face. He even contaminated the whole class with his sadness and asked me to pack my affaires and go home. I asked about the wrong I did and he told me to go out because my aunt will explain me everything. I was afraid and couldn't grab my copybooks and pens but felt relaxed a few second later for my aunt was now visible with a smiling face.
I went out and covered her with tens of questions. She couldn't bear my questions and declared that my father was dead. Unknowingly I yelled so loudly that some pupils came out of their classrooms to see what was going on; teachers also came out. I rolled on the ground and my white dress turned brown; I told my aunt that I prefer to die and added:"It is not true! it is not true! my father can't die now. He wasn't sick when I left home few minutes ago". My aunt tried to console me with soft words but I kept on crying until the headmaster joined us with other teachers and Mister Bancé. The headmaster brought his car and told me to enter. He drove me and my aunt home. Many people were gathered there already and that made me believe a bit that my father was certainly died.
They didn't allow me to see him but I insisted. They brought me inside the room and I saw my father covered with a pink wrapper but they didn't show me his body. Then my aunt explained that when Father was coming out of his house a lorry bumped into him and he died right away.
This is the most horrible day I will never forget. So far I see that day as if it was yesterday.
Best regards,
Louta Ouoba.
A group students of form 7 in Lycée Sabil El Nadjah. There is no computer lab in this school of more than 2000 pupils.
My baptism
Good afternoon dear friends,
My name is Bonga Mambaté, I am a girl of 18 years old and a pupil in the form 5 (2nde A) in Lycée Diaba Lompo,
This is the special day that I still think of. It was my baptism day. The day before that special event my parents bought a new dress, new shoes and a bicycle for me; they asked me to wear the dress and the shoes for the ceremony.
The very morning of the baptism my godmother, Alice took me on her scooter and we rode to the cathedral at
When all was done at church Tantie Alice took me on her scooter again and we were returned home. All the relatives were gathered: maternal, paternal uncles and aunts brought many gifts for me. I could even not open the boxes in which they were packed because they were uncountable. I was very important because all the visitors came in our house because of me. Such day never came in my life before that is why it was a so special.
From Bonga Mambaté
My name is Paré Lawalo Nicole, a girl of
The special day I am going to talk about was my elder sister Yvonne's 21st birthday in
We also bought 20 candles and lit them at 19 pm for Yvonner blow on. When she was blowing on the burning candles we sang in English:
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you Yvonne! Happy birthday to you!
But my mother who did not understand what we meant; so she asked us to sing in French and we resumed:
Joyeux anniversaire!
Joyeux anniversaire
Joyeux anniversaire Yvonne, Joyeux anniversaire !
My sister's classmates were invited to the feast and we sang and danced in the evening until 4 am.
Many presents were also offered to her by her classmates and my parents. It was not my own birthday but I never felt so happy during a feast. It was fantastic.
By Paré Nicole Lawalo
An occasiona l training for pupils.
My name is Yougbaré Jean, I am a boy of
I write about the special day I ever had in my life. Ten days ago the head master of Lycée Diaba Lompo came in our classroom and told us a football match would take place in Fada N'Gourma our town. Our opponents would be coming from Bobo Dioulasso the second important town in our country. Those who will not play will be supporters and I was among the latter. When it was time to play the pupils invaded the playground and the shorter ones were complaining because they couldn't see the players in action. At a given moment one of our players hurt his leg and someone else was to replace him and since our team was not well prepared the replacers were hesitant. Some pupils were shouting: we need Yougbaré! We need Yougbaré and the coach was compelled to call for me.
I wasn't quite ready as well but due to the increasing shouts of the students and the supporters I accepted to join our team. On the playground I looked like a small ant among horses because I was the smallest player on the playground. Some players laughed at me. I did not pay attention to them but wanted to honour those who were calling my name some minutes before. At the 42nd minute I scored a goal to the surprise of all our team members and even the supporters'. People were excited and ran everywhere so that a big mist of dust covered us. The referee was obliged to suspend the match for a while till the supporters calm down.
Our team kept the score of 1 goal and the visitors kept zero until the end. When the match took end I was lifted on the pupils' shoulders and everybody was repeating: Yougbaré! Yougbaré! Yougbaré! Yougbaré! Yougbaré!
Both teams were called to have a drink but I could not drink any thing because I was so happy.
Later on I spent a sleepless night because my joy was unimaginable.
It was the most important day in my life and I am not ready to forget it at all.
By Yougbaré Jean
Alassane Thiombiano is the typist of Lycéé Diaba Lompo and
uses this machine that is now forgotten by most developed countries.
This typing machine is still used in more than 87% of rural grammar schools like here in Lycée Diaba Lompo
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