Caught Up in Fight Over Chalk

Mwalimu Andrew

13 May 2011

opinion

Nairobi — I am starting to think that taking my TP at Mwisho wa Lami Day Secondary may have been a mistake.

If you remember, last week, the “Principle” Mr Unoka, sent away all the students who had not paid last term’s fees in full.

Come last Monday and we had less than 20 students, so we just idled in the Corridor – the staffroom – the whole day.

Unable to continue with such a low number of students, Mr Unoka sent word around that students could resume classes with whatever little fees they had.

Unlike St Theresa’s Girls, where only bankers cheques were accepted, here anything that the school could put into immediate use is welcome.

Some students brought as little as Sh200, and some parents brought foodstuffs. One parent brought firewood, while another offered to “burn” bricks for the school. Come Tuesday and we had some semblance of classes.

Although I am here for TP in Kiswahili and CRE, I was only given one Kiswahili class. I was then assigned agriculture in Form 2, history in Form 1 and geography in Form 3. I protested.

“Mwalimu, we have enough Swahili and CRE teachers here,” Sucrose, the Deputy, said. “Assist us where we have a shortage.”

“But how will I be assessed?” I asked.

“We have given you one Kiswahili class so that your supervisor can find something to assess you on,” said Fundi Mangungu.

“But geography and agriculture are not my speciality!” I protested.

“If Prof Anyang’ Nyong’o, who is not a doctor, never refused the Medical Services ministry, who are you to refuse to teach geography?” Unoka wondered.

“All you need are textbooks, these subjects are very easy,” said Vasco da Gama. “I have never gone to college but I can teach all subjects.”

Only the HM, Deputy and Madam Chausiku are TSC teachers. The rest were BOG teachers.

“Madam Chausiku, please let’s have the timetable ready by the end of the day,” Sucrose said.

Chausiku is the only female teacher at the school. Chausiku was not her real name, but a nickname because of her dark complexion.

“I will need at least two days,” Madam Chausiku said. Mr Unoka reminded her that we had no time.

“It will be ready tomorrow morning,” she said. “And my name is not Chausiku.”

After the meeting, I went to my assigned classes to introduce myself. I took a few pieces of chalk from the box in the “Corridor”.

Most students were quite happy to see me, and they really admired my dressing.

The chalk was very dusty; the pieces easily broke and produced a shrill sound as one wrote on the blackboard. I looked as though I worked in a posho mill.

Sumptuous lunch

That afternoon, I visited St Theresa’s to borrow some geography and history notes from the teachers there.

I arrived exactly at lunch time, and happily joined the teachers for a sumptuous lunch.

They had just had a staff meeting and sodas were flowing. I gulped down two bottles of my favourite brand – Stoney.

I used the opportunity to borrow a few packets of dustless chalk. At St Theresa’s, teachers pick stationery from the storekeeper at will and dustless chalk is in plenty.

I got a packet of from Mboya, another from Mr Maina and half a packet from Mrs Muindi.

On Tuesday morning, I left the two full packets at home and went with the half packet. I had a lesson in the morning and, as I walked back to the Corridor, Fundi Mangungu was surprised at how neat I was.

“Mwalimu, uliandika kwa ukuta kweli?” he wondered. “The cassava Unoka bought us here is so dusty!”

When I told him that I had my own dustless chalk, he begged for two pieces. He was so happy.

“Wazi! These will push me for three weeks.” Since we do not have lockers, he hid them in his books.

After lunch, as Fundi was leaving for class, the HM called him. He placed his books on the table and walked to The Hague – the HM’s office. He came out about 10 minutes later.

“Who has taken my dustless chalk?” he asked, shouting. No one answered. “Mburukenge yupi amechukuwa chaki yangu?” he asked again.

“Sijui, maybe ni Vasco,” said Chausiku. “Atanitambua leo,” he said and walked out of the staffroom.

He went straight to Form Four, where Vasco was teaching English. We don’t know what transpired, but the two rushed back to the Corridor quarrelling.

“We unajua bei ya dustless?” Fundi asked.

“No, you can’t remove me from class just because of chalk?”

“Umenizoea sana wewe,” Fundi said. He then pushed Vasco violently. Vasco hit a chair which hit the many books and documents lying around and they all came tumbling down.

This caused a commotion that attracted the HM, Deputy and some students. Vasco moved to hit Fundi but I swiftly moved in to separate them – with my left eye receiving the punch that was meant for Fundi!

“What is the fight over?” the HM asked.

“They are fighting over chalk!” said Chausiku. The Deputy called for a meeting during which the teachers complained about the poor quality of the “dustful chalk”.

“Being asthmatic, I no longer write anything on the board with that cassava,” said Chausiku. After admonishing Vasco and Fundi the HM said:

“The economy is bad and this is a poor school. You will all do with what’s available. If you don’t want, please look for a rich school.”

He later called me to his office with an interesting request. “Is it possible you can go to St Theresa’s and get us about 10 packets of dustless chalk?” I told him I’d try.

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