Chapter conclusion: Njabulo’s story

To work consciously with the expressions and experiences of children as central to

generating theory, in this chapter I used two learning modes through which I engaged with learners in the process of learning about water. The learning directive was to explore the workings of water in urban space. The first mode is the children’s dramatic skit of water in community. The second is children’s drawings of a place in the journey of water. In this chapter I have shared my analysis of these two arts-based modes, socio dramatic play and drawings. They are analysed or interpreted here in the spirit of Reggio Emelia

documentation as a means for ‘deep listening’ by educators and a form of educator research towards a responsive curriculum approach (oriented toward in my method/praxis chapter).

For each mode, I drew on theory for thinking with: The dramatic skits were listened to with the scholarship on socio-dramatic play in children’s lives (Joseph et al., 2014; Vygotsky, 2016)⁠ while the drawings were read with thematic analysis of drawings in research (Dockett and Perry, 2005; Mitchell 2006)⁠ and the concept of diffraction (Gullion, 2018)⁠. Thus, as I presented what I read, I presented how I read.

Working with the artifacts offered by these learners and reading them for meaning and experience in the context of how they were generated constitutes a reflexive act. The work of this chapter is a reading of as well as a reading with as I worked with the learners’ drawings as responses to the curriculum drawings. I draw the chapter to a close with a story.

One day, Njabulo was watching his mother do the washing.

He gazed into water as it splashed onto the side of the bucket, changing shape and colour as it did so. It was a hot February morning. He longed to touch it, to feel it move, to make a muddy puddle and feel the cool with his feet. But, we knew that this upset his parents as water costs money!

He could not resist! When his mother turned to hang up a piece of clothing, he tipped the bucket over and watched as the water flowed over the ground, making little pools and rapids along the uneven ground as it flowed away from the house towards the pavement.

“Hayi, Njabulo!” His mother shouted. Knowing that she was cross, he grabbed his school bag and dashed out of the garden, along the pavement to join his friends walking to school.

Yoh! Adults were so tense about water. When he was in Grade 4 they had said that we were running out of water, that we must save water but it is hard to save water when the household tap closes before the day has finished.

Later, after school they are working with a researcher on the journey of water.

The educator researcher asked, “Where does water come from?”

The learners responded:

“I know water in the tap and in the rain.”

“I hear it comes from the government, municipality, mountains, rivers…”

“Ndim lo ndiphandle ndiyahamba kuyanetha phandle.”

The researcher then asked: “But how does the water get to the tap?”

The learners responded:

“A pipe links the tap to the ‘water purification station’. Here the water is stored and cleaned.”

“I imagine myself looking at that water purification station.”

But she was not done yet, the researcher asked then, “How does the water get to the water purification station?”

One learner pointed out: “The water comes from a dam.”

“But how does it get to the dam?” the researcher asked.

One learner said: “The water comes to the dam from the mountain.”

Another said: “It flows in the rivers.”

“I am swimming in the river,” another learner shouted.

“And how do the rivers form?” the researcher asked.

One learner noted with seriousness: “The rivers come from the mountain when it rains.”

“I’m in the mountain because I love it,” another learner exclaimed.

“And what brings the rain?” the researcher continued.

“The clouds!” several learners shouted.

“When the clouds get heavy, the rain begins to fall. Imvula!” (the children sang).

“And how do the clouds form?” droned the researcher.

“The sun shines onto the sea.”

“With the heat of the sun, the water vapour rises: Evaporation/ umPhunga!” the learners sang.

“This is me swimming at the beach,” one learner shouted.

“And that is the journey of water,” concluded the researcher. Then the children sang “Capa Capa Capa Amanzi lokwe yam.”

---

The journey of water seemed never ending… Just as school had that day. So many questions coming at them from the teacher… And sometimes, when she asked a question, the class seemed to be more quiet than ever.

Njabulo felt a bit uninspired by the water cycle journey that they learned repeatedly at school. As he caught up with Lukhanyo after school, to revive his fallen spirits, he suggested that they play Matadi boatman on the walk home.

This game was inspired by a story told to them by their favourite librarian:

Long ago, before white people came to Africa there was a group of people known as the Matadi clan. They were maritime people who travelled between Congo and the Atlantic Ocean in wooden boats. The Congo River is the second longest river on the African continent, just shorter than the Nile. It has depths unknown.

This river had rapids and high waterfalls, which Europeans say are unnavigable, but they did not understand the fullness of navigation.

The Matadi boatman long ago made a pact with deep river spirits who gave them sole rights to sing vessels from the river into the Atlantic unmolested. They used their songs and poetry as maps to navigate the river and survive its rough journey.

“Ewe, let’s travel along the deep Congo river. OK, you can be the water spirit.”

Njabulo jumped in front of Lukhanyo and made his arms ripple at his sides. “Good day Matadi boatman Lukhanyo. Are you looking to chart this river out into the Atlantic?”

“Greetings water spirit, yes. I ask for your guidance and protection as I go.”

“Of course! Just remember to sing the songs as you get to the rapids you will pass through unmolested. When you enter the ocean, remember to read the stars. “

Lukhanyo and Njabulo paddled their boats along the pavement, past other school learners on their way home. As they neared the communal toilets (which they preferred to rush past because of the smell), they readied themselves for the rapids and they began to sing the song about the river Emlanjeni

Phew! They made it through the rapids – or the terrible stick. They continued singing cheerfully paddled past Nomzana’s fruit stall. “Molweni abantwana!”

“Molo Mam Nonzana.”

“Njabulo, here comes the next rapids.” They passed the butcher stall with the dog that sleeps under the table waiting for some scraps. They started to sing as they raced through the rapids, passing the butcher stall with great speed.

Turning into a smaller road, they breathed a sigh of relief at having survived yet another rapid. Lukhanyo! There is the Atlantic! Njabulo was pointing to the soccer field.

“Whoopi!” said Lukhanyo.

They paddled their boats onto the grass, dropped their bags and joined some of their friends for the game that was about to start.

THE END

5.7 Postscript: Reflecting on the work of story in representing educational research