The morning meeting with these three officials: his head teacher, acting as a filling to a sandwich of two board members, given the sitting arrangement they were in, was what would define Mr. Mchabawo’s fate.
“Alright! You are welcome Mr. Mchabawo.” started Mr. Kwilashu, one of the board members.
The wrinkles on Mr. Kwilashu’s forehead could tell that to him the feature jovial face was not something he would wear, lest he loses some attributes required by a school’s board member in the name of fearsome looks, so that mischievous teachers should think again before they misbehave.
“We are here not to waste our time as we are committed as well as prominent somewhere else.” The unsmiling board member, responsible for discipline matters, continued. “Our task is to tell you what the board running this school, which includes ourselves, has decided in regard to your unprofessional conduct last week.”
The words unprofessional conduct made Mchabawo regret ever being dedicated towards his job, precisely, teaching English Literature at secondary school level. At this, he thought of giving his defence a last attempt in case it would save him; moreover, that murderer received salvation right on Golgotha!
“Am sorry to cut you sir, but is it possible for me to explain what actually went wrong so that things had to reach that far; I mean, my being unprofessional as I have so far appeared to be?” Pleaded Mchabawo.
“Look at this easily sexually aroused young teacher! Interrupting his seniors while they are talking! When it will be your time to say something, if at all there will be, the three of us will give you the floor.” Fumed Mr. Khakhakha Zibaba, the other board member present in this fate room.
The front gums in Mr. Zibaba’s mouth were toothless, and it ridiculed his very name. In the street word had it that this Khakhakha Zibaba lost his front teeth when he was severely beaten by his own servant, after being caught in-the-act contaminating the latter’s fourteen year old daughter. Ironically, Khakhakha was and is still a well known officer of an NGO that fights against all forms of girl child abuse.
“Without much a do, Mr. Mchabawo, the board, with assistance from the school through an investigation that was done, has substantial evidence that you exposed our underage students to pornography. We have tried our best as a school, to take it that it was a mistake on your part but we are afraid we might end up tampering with the reputation that Dzaka Girls Private Secondary School has for the past one and a half decades been basking in.” A chorus of ‘yes’, in unison, followed Miss Mandaambeta’s words, who was the school’s head teacher’.
At Fifty Eight, Miss Mandaambeta, nicknamed Patience Ozokwor by her students, was a woman who seemed to be proud of the title ‘Miss’, but again it was rumoured that she could offer conjugal services to any male who could secretly approach her. Others said that she had this lust for young men, preferably below thirty, thus why she preferred being single.
“Now to conclude our chitchat which I feel has taken us centuries,” spoke the wrinkled Kwilashu as he handed an envelope over to Mchabawo. “You have been fired with no benefits, whatsoever and the school expects you to vacate its house within forty eight hours.” Concluded Mr. Kwilashu.
When Mchabawo was given that opportunity to explain himself, he probably should have explained that in an effort to make his students understand the syllabus prescribed play, Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare, he had asked a friend to transfer a movie, an adaptation of the play, onto his flash disc. Unfortunately, his friend transferred a wrong clip. Arriving home, Mchabawo did not have the chance to preview the movie, thanks to a blackout.
The following day, during the anticipated class, Mr. Mchabawo was ready to show his learners Romeo and Juliet. He had switched on his sophisticated gadgets and was clicking on the play button when he received a phone call that demanded him to run to is house located within a hundred meter radius from the class because smoke had been seen by neighbours rising from the chimney of his house.
Back in the classroom, the clip was playing and it wasn’t what the students were anticipating. Alas! How bad news travels! The noise from the girl students waiting to watch Romeo and Juliet was more than enough to attract the attention of other students who were probably studying for there exams.
By the time Mr. Mchabawo returned to his Literature students, the news had reached the head teacher and Mr. Mchabawo knew that the worst was yet to come.
But when that chance for Mr. Mchabawo to save himself availed itself, he could only say:
Ooh! Technology!
Ooh! Blackouts!
Ooh! This teaching job!
Ooh! Ubatchala!
Ooh! My burnt belongings!
Cried Mchabawo.
Nice work. really poetric!
ReplyDelete