The chapel, which plays an important part in the life of the school, has a corrugated iron roof, except when you go inside its stone walls.
The stone walls are unusual because stone is hard to find around here. The corrugated iron roof is unusual too, because it is there to protect the old roof which is mud and clay on a heavy lath of rafters supported by wooden poles with crook'd tops (not crook-ed, tops that have crooks), chosen for their shape from the forest that was once much denser.
Not far from growing oak trees to provide the bits that make ships strong enough to sail the world looking for a bit of plunder, is it?
This lath is still covered in the mud and vegetation - often banana leaves - that once provided the weatherproofing, but protected by the metal cladding above. It has some history that dates back to the missionaries.
The chapel is used for assemblies and prayers in the mornings, except Wednesdays when there is a parade during which the national flag is raised during the singing of the national anthem, and the school flag is raised during the singing of the school song: and Fridays, which is cleaning day and the entire school, perhaps with the exception of one or two volunteer staff, sweep, tidy, and generally get the whole place looking sharp.
Whatever stereotype you have of people in Africa being able to sing is probably about right: song is part of culture unlike our culture where song is a hope of earning loads of dosh. Although the music industry is pretty vibrant here.
Going in to the chapel in the mornings is a warming experience because the entire school is singing, led by voices that prompt the melody, provide a counterpoint and cue the words. And it is true that at more or less any time a group of girls (in particular) or boys can sing in harmony with counterpoint, rarely in a minor key, but always with strength and a perfect sense of pitch.
At the moment it is hot and dry. The air is very dusty and the countryside is beginning to fade from the intense green that was evident when we first arrived. Rain is becoming a topic as people look to the north where the low mountains prevent the rain from slipping down towards us with thunder and lightning and an unloading of the tension that always comes before that kind of weather.

The whole place is intensely bright with sunshine: the mangoes are over, the pineapples hard to find. Instead it is watermelon, bananas and very soon paw-paw (or papaya). The water supply plays up, and I still haven't fixed the toilets properly so flushing with a bucket is often the way with those times when stubborn resistance has to be overcome.