Didinga Discipline

Last week, two girls from my class stole 20 pounds, a huge sum of money in these parts. They took the money from a fellow classmate, a girl who was planning to buy a jerry-can of beer with the money.

I found out about the theft early one school day morning. The mother, who planned to use the beer to clear her corn field, was threatening to 'turn a snake loose' or, in other words, curse the student body if the funds were not fully recovered.

When my guilty P3 girls tried to spend their stolen loot, the community became suspicious. Girl number 1, realizing that her cover was broken, ran off to Chukudum. She is rumored to be buying slippers (flip-flops) and fabric with her share of the stolen money. No word on when she plans to come home.

When Philip and I approached Girl Number 2 about the theft, she admitted to having the stolen money in her possession, but promised that she did not steal it. With a defiant or nervous grin on her face, I still don’t know which, she told me that Girl Number 1 had given her the money. She told us that she had no idea that the money was stolen. Of course, this was a lie and neither Philip nor I could help but laugh when we heard it. I told Girl Number 2 that though I may not be a Didinga, I knew without a doubt that there was not a Didinga alive who would give ten pounds to anyone, let alone a ten year old!

After a long, but ultimately futile discussion about honestly, integrity, sin and forgiveness, along with numerous opportunities offered for Girl Number 2 to come clean, receive her punishment and for all to be forgotten, another approach was taken. I sent Girl Number 2 to her seat and decided to go and talk with her family.

Her Mom wasn’t home, but I found Girl Number 2’s Grandma, a lovely woman and active member of the church, planting onions behind the house.

After a bit of small talk, I awkwardly broached the topic at hand. Scared from my American teaching days, I expected her to deny any wrong doing by her grand-daughter and somehow turn the whole thing around, blaming me for the theft.

Grandma said that she had already heard about the problem and was waiting for the father to return home before disciplining the girl. She agreed that the child would also need to be disciplined at the school. When I told her that I did not feel comfortable "beating" the young girl (as that is the way things are done here) she looked skeptical, but told me that I could do whatever I thought was necessary as, “she is your child when she is at school.”

Still not convinced that I was free to handle the situation without the negative judgment of the community, I asked the Grandma if it would be alright if I had the girl do some hard labor for her punishment. With a patient and loving smile, Grandma told me that what her Grand-daughter had done was, “very bad” and the fact that she was lying about it was even worse. She encouraged me to deal with the situation however I deemed best.

She then thanked me, gave me some corn and sent me off, smiling all the way – awe-struck by the contrast between this 'phone call home' and the many absolutely jaw dropping, can a parent actually be saying that, terrible calls I had in America .

After school on Tuesday, Girl Number 2 hauled 10 jerry-cans of water for the compound (a number suggested by Philip). It took her more than five hours. She knew that she would be repeating this exact task every weekday until she decided to tell the truth.

Early Wednesday morning, Girl Number 2 confessed to stealing the ten pounds. She apologized and promised that she would never do such a thing again. I somehow believe her...