Tang Siping, 65, seldom enjoys sound sleep and age has little to with it. As the principal of Zhen Xing School, his preoccupation is with his 1,228 students - the children of migrant workers.

Will the school bus depart on time? Is the schools' neighborhood a healthy one? Is the budget being managed well? Such are the questions that keep Tang awake till well into the night.

Seven years ago, Tang and his wife were taking a stroll when they ran into two 15-year-olds fighting on the street. The couple, who used to be primary school teachers, rushed in to separate the young men, one of whom was accusing the other of intruding into his "zone" - a rubbish heap where he spent the whole day picking waste to sell.

The teenagers from Yuncheng, Shanxi Province, were trying to supplement the income of their parents who worked as migrant workers in Beijing. When Tang asked them why they didn't go to school, they shrugged their shoulders, saying: "I've no money."

The elderly couple felt very sorry for the teenagers. "Children of their age should be receiving an education," Tang says.

They decided they must do something. "We shouldn't be having any illiterates in the 21st century," Tang says.

Tang learned from the Beijing Municipal Commission of Education that the city's floating population stood at 4 million back then. And the number has increased to 5.1 million, according to a report by Beijing Evening News last year. This includes more than 400,000 migrant children scattered across some 300 private schools, of which 60 are illegal operations.

Besides the high fee set by public schools, the need for documents such as employment certificates, temporary residence permits, household registration, labor contracts and only-child certificates are the other reasons that explain the growing number of migrant children remaining outside the public school gates.

In 2000, the couple went ahead with their plans to open a school. They spent 100,000 yuan (US$13,900) to put up a 30-classroom structure in Haidian district.

The classrooms faced a dusty road plied by trucks carrying bricks all day long. The teachers had to yell above all the din from the road to make themselves heard.

Tang says the Zhen Xing School has had to move four times, resulting in heavy losses. It was not until 2005 that the school was officially recognized as a facility for children of migrant workers by the Education Commission of Haidian district.

With a monthly-pension of 4,000 yuan (US$555), the couple had to borrow from their daughter and other relatives, says Guo Lizhen, Tang's wife. "My daughter couldn't understand why we wanted to take on this thankless work," Guo says. But the couple were determined to persevere.

"We finally back on track as we owe no one any more," Tang smiles. They sold their 200-sq-m flat and paid off their debt the moment they got the money.

Wang Yali, 14, from Henan Province, has been in Zhen Xing from her pre-school days. Wang's father who came to Beijing 12 years ago is a petty foreman in a construction group. Her mother manages the housework and takes care of Wang and her younger brother. With a monthly income of less than 2,000 yuan (US$280), her father searched hard for a school they could afford.

"The school was crude and simple, but each semester costs only 350 yuan (US$50). The teachers are patient and conscientious," Wang says.

"I used to complain about the conditions in the school," Wang says. But she has now stopped that. "Life moves on, we must keep learning with whatever we have." The girl's long-term plan is to go to a university in Beijing.

To familiarize students with the Internet from grade one, the couple put down the money for 40 computers. They are also offering free classes in calligraphy, drawing and dance. Some 20 retired teachers comprise half the faculty.

Generous offers of help have been pouring in. Guo Zhenxing, a calligrapher, sent three loads of desks and chairs and hundreds of computers to Zhen Xing last year. He also gives free calligraphy courses and provides inkstones and brushes to the students.

The school has recently built a big, clean dining hall. Tang is relieved that students no longer need to eat instant noodles or spend a starving day at school.

But there remains much to be done: The playground and a multimedia classroom are in the pipeline.

"Someone asked me when I will really retire. I will go on performing my duty until I find someone suitable to take over the school," Tang says.

(China Daily April 7, 2008)