In west Ghana, the village of Nzulezo perches above the dark water of Lake Tadane, backed by dense swampland. Built entirely on wooden stilts and platforms carved from raffia palms, the cluster of structures is home to more than 500 people, with two churches, a small guesthouse, a bar and primary school. Nominated in 2000 for inclusion as a Unesco world heritage site, the village is on the bucket list of visitors to the west African country, curious about a unique way of life on the water. But the vast lake that makes this place so picturesque is also the reason no one wants to work here, especially teachers. The people of Nzulezo, which translates as “water surface”, work mainly in farming and fishing, travelling by canoe to the weekly market on the land to buy and sell produce. The school, for children from four to 14 years old, was recently rebuilt after flood damage. It has four classrooms and 81 pupils, but only two teachers. Emmanuel Bonsu has worked at the school for 14 years, first as a community teacher, before qualifying in 2018. In that time, he has seen countless staff come and go. “Most of the teachers, when they are transferred to this place, they don’t stay long. They are scared of the water,” says Bonsu. There is no culture of learning to swim in Ghana, and it is not taught in schools, in part because of lack of access to pool facilities, Bonsu explains. So, while Nzulezo residents are strong swimmers by the age of four, the location proves challenging for teachers from other parts of the country. According to headteacher Evans Cudjoe, some staff stay a few months, others only last weeks. “When it rains heavily … and if there are heavy storms, it can sink the houses a little, that makes them scared,” he says. Bonsu and Cudjoe are from Beyin, a town on the mainland. Both learned to swim when they started working at the school, but they admit it took time to get used to their new surroundings. “I was very scared, in fact I nearly stopped [coming], says Cudjoe, “it’s swamp land with deep water, about 25ft and too dark.” The crocodiles don’t come close to the village, but plenty live in the lake, he adds. The teacher shortage means Cudjoe spends his days in the classroom, in addition to all his tasks as headteacher. He still lives on the mainland, where there is more reliable phone coverage and internet access, and makes the one-hour journey to school each morning by canoe. Bonsu lives in the village with his family in free staff housing but government support is otherwise lacking. There is no health centre in Nzulezo, despite lobbying by residents, and no safety equipment such as lifejackets, says Bonsu, adding to the other challenges of attracting teachers. The school also lacks resources: the national curriculum requires students to learn how to use computers, but there isn’t a single device for them to practise on. “Our education performance can’t be compared to those schools on land … with two large classes, combined ages, what you are supposed to teach in a day?” asks Bonsu. What the school does have is strong support from Nzulezo’s residents. Bonsu and Cudjoe are aided by four classroom assistants who have high-school educations and come on different days to help, paid from a community fund financed by tourist donations. One is Praba Gifty, 23, who moved back home to Nzulezo after completing secondary education in Takoradi, an industrial city 56 miles (90km) away. Despite the “beauty and peacefulness” of her village, the lack of teachers is all too regular she says. Gifty is hopeful that one day she will be able to go to college. For now, working as a community teacher means she can help Nzulezo children succeed in school as she did. Cudjoe says the government should be doing much more to recruit and retain teachers for Nzulezo, such as, providing “incentives and safety equipment for those who do not know how to swim, lifejackets and a boat”. Given the chance, he says, “children here can grow up well and become the teachers”.