Jhonas Doaiyne is a third-year student in the Philippines — and has never been in a classroom. Til today.
He has never been able to raise his hand and ask his teacher a question. Or sit next to your friend. Or wear his school uniform.
The eight-year-old was previously only connected to his school via a laptop or phone screen.
He – and about 27 million other students across the country – were forced to study online for two years as the government in the Philippines imposed one of the longest lockdowns in the world to prevent the spread of Covid-19.
And now it’s time for Jhonas to finally be in class, to learn new rules.
“My mom told me that if I chatted up a little bit with my schoolmate, I would be in big trouble,” he says.
But in the classes at the Palanan Elementary School in Manila’s Makati neighborhood, there was little chatter in the classes—even the largest ones. The students were fully focused on their teacher, many diligently copied their timetables into their workbooks.
These scenes were repeated in almost half of all schools in the Philippines. Local TV stations were full of information on the best bus routes to get children to school safely and glorious images of excited little kids hopping through the gates in brand new uniforms.
Some had even decked out for the day with headbands that read “excited to learn.” The handmade banners in front of many schools read “Welcome back, we’ve missed you”.
Around 46 percent of the students started the five-day face-to-face classes on Monday – some of the rest will remain online for the time being. The government hopes all children registered to attend school will be back in classrooms by November.
However, international agencies are concerned about the impact of more than two years of online learning. A recent World Bank report states that nine out of ten Filipino children by the age of 10 still have trouble reading simple texts.
“Tackling this learning crisis is the challenge of our time if we do not want to lose this generation of children and young people,” says the report.
Here at the school, Principal Sanchez is aware that her students are falling behind.
“We were able to assess their performance, and based on those assessments, we found that most of our children lack some of the competencies expected of them,” she said, while outlining a special eight-week program that includes at least part to close the gap.
“It’s overwhelming. It’s a lot,” said Carla, who teaches third grade.
“The transition is really the hardest. They don’t know what to expect in a classroom. Online classes were just two to three hours of online learning. But today it’s already six hours of full-time face-to-face classes.”
She explained that most of the children’s parents worked full-time and that home care was rare during online learning.
A third-grade student admitted she had trouble accessing the internet and kept missing class. And that in a well-connected area of the capital. More than half of the country’s population, around 58 million people, live in rural areas.
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Online learning may have helped prevent the rapid spread of the virus, but it may also have made the digital education divide in rural areas more pronounced than ever.
UNICEF described Monday as just the first of “many steps” on the country’s “learning recovery path.” The organization has helped provide schools with cleaning and disinfection kits.
But school in the Philippines is not just about learning. There are also programs to ensure families have enough to eat.
Palanan Elementary School, like many government schools, weighs each child to determine if they are malnourished and gives out a free lunch. They managed to get the ingredients for meals to needy households during the pandemic, but finally they can again monitor their students and make sure their ability to study is not hampered by lack of food.
Back at school — in corridors filled with colorful posters urging students to wash their hands and keep their distance — the bubbling excitement of being back in class means many students are eager to catch up on their favorite part of the day speak.
Sixth grader Augusto can’t stop practicing his English and asking questions about where I’m from.
“My favorite part is the breaks. For me — I love food,” says a third-grade girl, before quickly assuring the teacher that she loves the class, too.
But of course, for many of them, going back to school means finally being able to meet other children.
The students stand up and introduce themselves and it has become a game to remember all the new faces and names.
“When you come to class, you meet your new friends,” says a second grader.
The rest of the class nods and claps in agreement.
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