Following the recent
uproar about the Queen’s College Biology teacher who was accused of sleeping
with innocent female students, I went down memory lane. No, it’s not actually a
memory lane. It’s something I remember every day. Something I had wanted to write
about for years but I just told myself “zip it”
I want us to pick out
two lessons from this story. Firstly, parents shouldn’t even think their kids
are too young to feel something fantastic about someone. Parents should know
that there is no age limit to infatuate about people. Finally, there are still
good, incorruptible teachers out there. Teachers that are bound by oaths to
protect the wards in their care. I met one and I’m forever grateful.
Let me deviate a
little bit. Most of the cases of the kidnapped girls we have around (like Ese
Oruru and the likes) also stem from the facts that parents are not doing what
they are meant to do. Parents are guardians and they should by all means be a
monitoring spirits over their kids especially when they are still growing.
Poverty shouldn’t be the reason for allowing your child to have unnecessary
rights and privileges. Apart from the kids who were raped by strangers and
complete mad people, 85% of rapes cases, forced marriages and kidnap are
perpetrated by people known to the families of the victims. Negligence is
playing a lot of roles in what we see today. Parents should brace up and do
their part.
I was opportune to
have some privileges as a growing child. One of them is attending a private
Nursery and primary school, one of the best in my state back then. That rare
opportunity afforded me everything I needed to build on later in life. Coupled
with this; I had the best teachers any child could ever wished for. I am most
grateful. Of all the teachers, one stood out. Uncle Sola my first crush.
As a child, barely 7
years old, I really didn’t know anything about love or infatuation or whatever
you call it but one thing I know for sure, I really LIKE uncle sola. He was my
teacher in primary four but even before he became my teacher, I had always Like
him. Funny as it might sound, Uncle sola likes me in return. Ours was mutual.
Mutual LIKENESS.
He
picked up interest in me from when I was in primary 2, right before he became
my teacher and sincerely, it was pure, brotherly, undiluted, unstained, agape
love. I was so close to him as a child to the extent that in the absence of
other students, I call him by name. (Now, I know Ayodeji will say Yippee, I
said it)
Uncle
Sola is unarguably handsome, neat and from a rich home. Rumour has it that his
mother didn’t want him to pick up the teaching job but he ignored her and went
ahead to pick up the job. He was a good teacher.
I always wait for him
to resume every morning as I stay glued to the barbed fence to catch a glimpse
of this handsome, finely built young man. I was barely 7 years old. He walks in
a way I cannot describe. His smile can melt the stony hearts and his skin; you
don’t have to look for Ramsey Noah again.
What most students
didn’t know was that, as I wait to catch a glimpse of him, he was always ready
to see me too. He would walk gently to my side and say good morning brainy.
Those words were the things I needed. I could live my life on them.
As I got promoted to
primary four, needless to say that from my primary 2 through primary 3 I had
female’s teachers who feel the same level of love towards me. I was always
clinching the first position except for primary 1 because I had a double
promotion from Nursery 1 so I skipped Nursery 2 and it was hard coping with the
rest of the class immediately.
Primary 4 was my best
year so far. First, because uncle sola was going to be my teacher and he had
told me on several occasions how he can’t wait to have me in his class. I feel
the same way too. Unfortunately, I was meant to leave for JSS1 from Primary 3
but Uncle Sola was among the chief protesters who told my father I was too
young for such leap.
Primary 4 came
quickly and I was right there in Uncle Sola’s class. My best year ever. I
sincerely wish we have more teachers like uncle sola in this country. Well,
maybe to me, I saw in him a perfect gentleman. The first thing he did was that
he made sure my table was directly beside his own. He monitors my work,
progress and development as if I was his little Sister. Despite the fact that I
take my lunch to school, I still get to eat from his food. He doesn’t eat
without leaving some for me.
Then one day, I had
an issue with him. Anytime he gives me food to eat, he expects that I use his
spoon. Without wanting to sound too picky, I hate saliva with a passion. I
don’t do saliva with people and that started from my early age. So, I normally
exchange his spoon with mine every time before eating his food until I was
caught.
