Everyday I walk to school along a dusty track with a backdrop of Mount Kilimanjaro. Tiny children shout ‘Good Morning teacher’ from amongst the banana trees and the heat is already scorching at eight in the morning. Today is no exception.

I reach the other side of the valley and hear wood hitting rusty wheel hub; the signal for the first lesson of the day to begin. I’m late.

Wearing sandals and an ankle length kitenge (East African sarong) while carrying armfuls of teaching aids, I attempt to pick up the pace.

I bypass the staff office and head straight for my classroom, filled to the brim with twelve-year old local kids. Today I am teaching new vocab for a reading comprehension which we will start tomorrow.

Last night, whilst cooking rice in the regular village blackout I’d been struck with a genius idea of how to teach the word ‘shade’.

Terrie with one of her neighbours

Having finished a grammar exercise I herd the class outside and onto a small grassy area next to our classroom. With the help of the schoolyard lemon Eucalyptus, I confidently launch into my spiel of ‘I’m standing in the sun, I’m standing in the shade;’ predictably, the whole sky clouds over.

Before my usual lunch of ugali (stiff porridge), spinach and fish, I have netball practice with the girls from my class. On mere sight of the ball they show their usual frenzied enthusiasm and we head to the court that belongs to the wealthier all girls secondary school nearby.

After removing a large heifer that’s tethered to the far post, play commences on a freshly mown ground. I remember their first practice when most of the hour was spent running with the ball, continuing the game down a slope whenever the ball went out of play and having a rugby pile up at every opportunity.

I smile at how far they’ve come.

Terrie Chilvers taught in Kilimanjaro, Tanzania with the Village Education Project in 2003