Schooled in Islam

By Graham Reid

His office looks much like any other school principal's, a bit smaller and more cramped perhaps. But here are the trappings of the position: the computer and constantly ringing phones, papers bulging from the row of fat folders and files; the manuals and handbooks. On the wall are timetables and bulletins, the National Education Guidelines prominent. A child's drawing lies on his desk.

Through his window come the shouts of boys playing soccer and the giggles of a few teenage girls who walk past on their way to the front office.

If it weren't for a few posters and flyers in Arabic, and the prominently displayed school brochure with a cover quote from the Koran – "Taught the humankind that which they knew not" – this could be any other school.

But Al-Madinah School in Mangere is quite unlike most other schools in the country, and principal Asin Ali is like few other principals.

Ali – age 46, educated in New Zealand and with university and teaching credentials framed behind him – is principal at the country's only state-integrated Muslim school.

Welcoming and happy to talk, he tells of being the founding principal in '92, "when there were nine kids in the basement of a building in Otahuhu". He now oversees a roll of 360.

Around 60 percent of the roll are from India, Fiji and Pakistan; a significant percentage from Somalia; around 10 percent from Arab countries such as Palestine, Jordan and Iraq; one or two from Maori families; and a few with a Pakeha background where one of the parents has married a Muslim.

The school is co-educational, but after Year Seven (Form One) the students are educated separately. The older students tend to remain in their own areas, the younger ones play together freely. On sports days when they play against other local schools – "the boys from Fiji are good at soccer so we come at least second" – they all interact. They wear traditional Muslim costume as their uniform.

For those who would come to Al-Madinah with preconceptions about separatism or notions of a dogma-driven education, this lively place can be quite disarming.

Three chatty young girls happily show off their modest science lab, the small library with bilingual signs in Maori and English, and the computer room with its battalion of around 20 screens.

Ali tells of the struggle for funding, especially since immigrant parents are not well off and many could just afford $5 a week.

Initially, some seeding money came from Saudi Arabia – that ended with September 11. But two-thirds of the initial cost of $150,000 for the land came from local Muslims and through donations from sympathetic communities in Canada and Australia.

Ali – a qualified engineer who trained as a teacher in maths and computing before finishing his degree in arts and management – is a practical, and some might say canny, fellow.

The quote for the first school building was $1.2 million (they completed it for less than $700,000) and he persuaded the gas company to get the service free to the gate. Further negotiation got them seven gas stoves by way of a donation: "He was a Jew and I convinced him on that basis that we were very similar," he says, grinning.

Today, the school offers a broad range of subjects in Year 12, from the sciences, graphics and technology to economics, clothing and computer studies.

Its academic record – even factoring in the small numbers of students at senior level – is impressive. NCEA exam results from last year were consistently higher than the national average: from Al-Madinah, a 73.6 percent pass rate in English (69 percent nationally), maths 77.3 percent (71.3 percent) and chemistry 85 percent (75.8 percent).

Ali, studying for an MA, says that what sets the school apart is encapsulated in its mission statement: "Al-Madinah aims to develop students spiritually, intellectually and physically to their full potential in an Islamic environment."

Salaat (prayer times) are observed daily and, for junior students, seven of their 35 half-hour periods a week are given over to reading the Koran. At secondary level, it is five 50-minute periods. All classes are in English, study of the Koran in Arabic.

Classes also offer discussion of Islamic jurisprudence and Arabic is offered as a unit standards course at NCEA level. "It is no longer a religious subject, but one for which they can acquire credits."

He laughs when asked about the Islam they teach; he knows the fears in the wider community. "It's basic Islam. I'd call it fundamental, but when I use that word, people think it is fundamentalist. No, it's the normal teachings of prophet Muhammad. We are living in New Zealand and we have a very liberal view of our lives, although I'm not saying because of that we have to be liberal.

"Islam itself is a very liberal religion, so we want to go back to the basics of prophet Muhammad, not some extremist thinking." And he laughs again.

The school provides an environment where the young girls can feel safe and the faith is supported. Other than that it is a normal school education. It promotes a smoke-free and drug-free climate.

Yes, there were a few incidents after September 11: "A few cars passing and people said, 'Killers go home', but New Zealanders are good people and even at that time it was very unusual."

The school continues to grow. There are plans for a new classroom block that will include a computer suite and another science lab.

Outside, the school goes quiet, it is time for prayers.

"Oh, we have our share of problems, of stand-downs and suspensions and after-school detentions," he says, laughing.

"Kids are kids, they will misbehave."


New Zealand Listener, November 27, 2004    For next article on this subject, click here