THE MEASURE OF A MAN
Most people in the world can’t count for shit. Yes, I know I’m not breaking any ground with that observation, but here in Mandelaville the problem with numeracy might even be worse than elsewhere in the world. So imagine my excitement when, a few years ago, I read that the department of basic education was introducing a subject called maths literacy. The idea was that every pupil going through our education system would, at least, possess the basic arithmetic fundamentals.
I’ve seen a few maths literacy workbooks. It’s all about, “If Sipho is building a wall that requires 45 bricks in length and 20 bricks in height, how many bricks is he short of if he only has 800 bricks?” I like that sort of thing. That said, the department would probably get higher pass rates if it used examples more up the alley of our scholars. You know: “If a seven-day 500MB data bundle special from MTN costs R25 and a 30-day 2GB data bundle from Telkom Mobile costs R89, which one would you buy and why?”
I had so many reasons for celebrating this maths literacy idea. Silly me. Tragically, the efficacy of this great idea is being undermined by our legendary poor execution, as usual. I guess this is what happens when you send folks who can’t count to teach children how to count.
I used minibus taxis as my primary mode of transport for the first 20-odd years of my life. I suffered the ignominy of daily taxi commuter battles, where R3.50 regularly disappeared inside the putrid taxi-maths black hole.
It is with a heavy heart that I must report that folks out there still can’t count to save their lives. And, original thought or not, folks who can’t count are terrible at estimating.
One of these people is my barber, Adams. Adams runs his barbershop with his brother Stevens. Apparently plural names are the default in the Ashanti city of Kumasi, Ghana, where they’re from.
Here’s the problem: Stevens is always at the salon, but he’s a terrible barber. Adams is very good at cutting hair, but he’s never at the shop. He spends at least three hours of his day at church. People keep popping in to see if he’s around and then escaping before they fall into the clutches of Stevens’s two left hands.
When I asked Adams why he’s always at church, he told me he goes there to pray that the Lord will shower him with monetary blessings. I cannot fault that. Each to his own belief. I then asked him to estimate how much money he loses while he prays for the Lord to give him money. Just for fun, I said. He didn’t even know where to begin. So I told him that he’s probably losing about R1,500 a week based on R40 a head, assuming he cuts about two heads an hour.
He wasn’t particularly moved.
I have a friend, Mavura, who has a serious bug up his behind about parastatal CEOs and municipal manager types who cannot estimate with any accuracy. He’ll see a press statement that reads, “The groundbreaking project, which will cost between R1.5bn and R2bn ...” and lose it on the spot. “That’s a whopping difference of R500m! Why don’t they just say they have no clue how much this will cost us?!”
I try to calm him down by pointing out that some CFOs got their jobs based on their impressive matric results with “E” passes in biblical studies and geography plus a certificate in tourism management. This explanation hardly ever pacifies him, unreasonable man that he is.
I recently found myself in the passenger seat, using the Waze navigation app to find a venue. The snag is that the driver was one of these crap estimators. The impatient, irritable woman on the app would say, “In 300m, turn right” and my driver would take a right after 40m. In his mind, 300m, 40m and 3km are just random figures on the distance continuum.
After the third time I yelled “No! Not here! Think of 300m as roughly the length of three football pitches!”. He retorted, “Have you ever measured the length of a football pitch?”
I was defeated. My friend can’t be helped. It is my considered estimation that it will take about 3.27 lifetimes before he finally gets it. Mama Angie’s work is cut out for her.
Here in Mandelaville the problem with numeracy and estimation might even be worse than elsewhere in the world