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http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2012/mar/13/schoolgirl-dies-hit-rugby-ball http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2012/mar/12/education-school-malawi-girlsmillennium

Schoolgirl dies after being hit by rugby ball Leonie Nice, 12, appeared to have a fit after being hit in the chest during a PE lesson at her school in Essex A 12-year-old girl has died after being hit by a rugby ball during a PE class at school. Leonie Nice was catching the ball during a lesson at Woodlands comprehensive school in Basildon, Essex, when she was hit in the chest and fell over before appearing to have a fit. Paramedics were called to the school just before noon on Tuesday and transferred the year seven pupil to Basildon hospital, where she died. Gary Sanderson, spokesman for East of England ambulance service, said: "First and foremost our thoughts are firmly with the girl's family at this tragic time. "The ambulance crew arrived at the scene within one minute and found the girl in a critical condition. Following rapid treatment and stabilisation, she was taken to an awaiting medical team at Basildon hospital where, sadly, she died shortly after." Andy White, head teacher at Woodlands, said: "Leonie Nice, a year seven pupil, was catching a rugby ball in a PE lesson when she was hit in the chest by the ball. "Leonie keeled over and appeared to go into a fit. Our trained first-aiders gave CPR at the scene and the ambulance arrived quickly. Leonie was taken by ambulance to Basildon hospital where, despite everyone's best efforts, Leonie was pronounced dead. "The pupils and parents have been informed of this sad event and students who require support are being looked after by our own staff and specialist staff from Essex county council's support team. "Our thoughts and prayers are with her family at this time. Leonie was a promising, delightful and kind girl who will be greatly missed by all the staff and pupils of Woodlands school." The incident comes just weeks after Kyle Rees, 16, died after apparently being hit on the head by a cricket cri cket ball at Portchester School in Bournemouth, Dorset.

The struggle to finish school in Malawi Rachel Williams reports from Malawi on why the country is unlikely to reach the millennium development goal for education

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Loveness Sitima had agreed to marry the man who proposed to her one day as she was selling bananas, when she was older, at least – she had only just turned 13. But as soon as she said yes, he started pestering her to sleep with him. One night she found the 20-year-old waiting for her in the dark. This time he told her he was going to have sex with her whether she liked it or not. But it wasn't rape, she says – she gave in. Loveness knew nothing about contraception, and didn't understand why she missed her period that month. In Malawi, a girl who is pregnant can't go to school. Nor can she go back afterwards, unless a relative takes care of the baby. Loveness moved in with the man, but he beat her, denied her food, and dumped her clothes in a pit latrine when she left him. Now she and her two-month-old daughter, Martha, are back in her home village of Simaewa, near Salima in the country's central region. But last month her mother remarried and moved away. Loveness, now 14, must support her baby, her 12-year-old brother and her sisters, aged 10 and six. She is certain she will never return to school. "I was very hurt when I found out I was pregnant," she says, "because I knew my future was doomed. And it's just because I'm a girl." Loveness was doing better than most children of her age in Malawi. In completing primary school – eight grades or "standards" for six- to 13-year-olds – she achieved something that as little as 40% of her peers manage, according to the Civil Society Coalition for Quality Basic Education (CSCQBE). There are nearly a quarter of a million children aged six to 11 who've haven't even been enrolled in school. Malawi is one of the 20 poorest countries in the world, where over 40% of the population lives on less than $1 a day, even after years of growth. And now the "warm heart of Africa" is in economic and political turmoil. Anti-smoking campaigns have fatally weakened its biggest export crop, tobacco; chronic shortages of foreign exchange and fuel cause long queues for petrol; and human rights activists say they have been assaulted and intimidated. The president, Bingu wa Mutharika, vehemently denies accusations of creeping dictatorship. Last year he expelled the British high commissioner, after a leaked cable revealed Fergus Cochrane-Dyet had described him as "becoming ever more autocratic and intolerant of criticism". Britain later suspended some of its aid to Malawi, worth £19m a year, citing concerns over governance and economic management. Other donors have done the same. Officials from Malawi's education ministry admit the country is unlikely meet the millennium development goal of ensuring every child completes a quality primary education by 2015. Enrolment numbers are rising – from 78% to 83% between 2005 and 2009 – but dropout rates, though improved, remain high. The proportion staying to standard eight is 53% for boys and 45% for girls.

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Primary education has been free since 1994, but the system was ill-equipped to cope when attendance rates increased by more than a million in a year. Nearly 20 years later, the struggle to meet demand persists, with chronic shortages of both teachers and classrooms. The average class size is 90 – compared with 40 recommended by the Global Campaign for Education – but reaches several hundred in some schools. The ratio of qualified teachers to pupils has been worsening since 2004, and there is a particular shortage of female teachers. Tens of thousands of new classrooms are needed – those provided by Madonna's renewed interest in education in Malawi would be a drop in the ocean. Toilets are primitive; female pupils, who use only pieces of cloth for sanitary protection, simply stay away when they have their periods. Some schools lack clean water. Children speak of being too hungry to go to class, or of their clothes being too dirty. Hidden costs – uniforms, pencils, and notepads – often prove too great for struggling subsistence farmers. Legally, a uniform isn't compulsory but children are often turned away if they come without it. In Mdwele, a sprawling village of 1,000 homesteads, it is a common complaint. Mphatso Njovu, 12, left school at eight for that reason. His mother is dead, from HIVrelated illness – 20% of the village's children are Aids orphans – and he lives with his grandparents, working in the fields and weaving palm mats. He knows what he is missing by not going to school. "Organisations come to our villages to support us in development work," he says, "but most of them want people who can read and write. If you can't, you're out of it completely." Other schools enforce contributions to "development funds" that can be as costly as fees, says the CSCQBE's director, Benedicto Kondowe. Sometimes headteachers withhold exam results for pupils who haven't paid up. Parents may be poor but they are not undiscerning. If they can see the education their children are getting is of low quality, they are less likely to see it as a worthwhile investment. And if the children are girls, that investment may be deemed unnecessary. "It's generally considered that girls are made for marriage," says Kondowe. That, and helping in the home and the fields, says Alepha Mwimba, who heads the charity ActionAid's Salima office. "It's common for a girl of nine or 10 to be given her own plot of land to cultivate," she says. "If there's a proposal and the girl refuses it, the mother will be saying 'please say yes'." Brides can be as young as 13. Chikowa primary school had 1,271 pupils in January. Of these, 485 were in standard one. Standard two had fewer than half that, at 204. And standard eight had just 24 – only six of them girls. Zainabu Malenya is one of them. "From standard two to standard four my parents tried to make me stay at home to look after my siblings," she says. "I just persevered. But when I got home I'd find there was no food left for me."

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There are six classrooms at the school, but one is used as a storeroom. Standards one to three learn outside. The higher grades are crammed on the floor in the mouldering classrooms. Only standards seven and eight have desks. Some progress has been made. Significantly fewer girls have dropped out since Action Aid helped set up a mother's group and a girls' club at the school, says the mothers' group's chair, Emily Million London. The charity has also built two houses for women teachers. But the head teacher says much more is needed. In the cities, children who are not in school must find other ways to make money. Until recently Stanwell Mwanza, 13, collected scrap metal, grubbing around in piles of junk for the odd piece of filthy treasure. Now he is being helped by the Chisomo Children's Club, whose staff work with under-14s who live or beg on the streets, trying to rebuild their family relationships and get them into education. "A hope and a future" says the sign outside the club. But it's a brutal, often sexualised, world these children have become used to, says senior social worker Irene Ngomano. Girls often end up in prostitution. Other street children spend nights in video bars that show pornography. "We're putting in every effort but there are also a lot of challenges," says Malawi's deputy education minister, Wictor Sajeni. One of the biggest of those is still parents' attitudes to education, he says. Education has received a greater proportion of state funding in recent years, but the resources available will never be enough. Sajeni suggests the freezing of some UK aid will affect education; the Department for International Development insists this is not the case, as it will provide the same amount of money but bypass central government. "Britain now uses other means … to ensure the poorest people of Malawi do not lose out," says the international development secretary, Andrew Mitchell. In the mornings Loveness goes out looking for work, for which she is paid mainly in maize flour. Two hours' labour will get her enough to prepare same – Malawi's doughy staple dish – for the family's lunch. In the afternoons she goes out again, to earn enough for the evening meal. A calendar, untroubled by future engagements, hangs on the wall of the cell-like room where she sits on the floor. Next to her is a well-used Bible. Loveness describes her favourite verse as the one that says: "Don't lose hope, just believe in me."

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