My Childhood Memories Part II

By: Prophetess Ngozi Joy

During my primary school years, it was common practice for substitute teachers to take over classes in the event of a teacher’s absence. In such cases, the substitute teacher would handle their own class as well as the class of the absent teacher. If the substitute teacher was overwhelmed with the workload, the headmaster would step in to teach the class if he was available.

As students, we were expected to arrive at school on time for the general assembly. Living within the school compound made this an easy feat. Each morning, the senior prefect would visit each classroom to distribute chalk for the day’s lessons. This was during the era of blackboards and white chalk, with colored chalks reserved for handwriting practice or drawings.

One particular morning, I was entrusted with the responsibility of holding onto our class’s chalk supply. Unfortunately, the chalks broke into pieces while in my possession. When our teacher fell ill and a substitute teacher was sent to take over our class, I was asked about the whereabouts of the chalk. I admitted to having them but explained that they had broken. The substitute teacher became irate, flogged me, and refused to accept the broken chalk. She even went as far as to send me out of the classroom, stating that I was not to return until I had brought the chalk back in its original form.

Despite my father being the headmaster, I was too afraid to report the incident to him. Instead, I confided in my mother, who was on maternity leave at the time. She was appalled by the teacher’s behavior and provided me with a new set of chalks. However, when I presented them to the substitute teacher, she was still unsatisfied, insisting that she wanted the exact type of chalk that I had broken.

Upon reflecting on a past experience, I recall feeling a deep sense of shame and guilt that led me to cry in front of my mother. She immediately took action and confronted my teacher, who was also the mistress of the school. The exchange of words between my mother and the teacher was intense, and other teachers came out to support my mother’s stance. Eventually, the teacher apologized to my mother for her behavior.

Despite the resolution, I still felt uneasy and fearful of encountering the teacher again. The headmaster was not present during this incident, and I did not receive any reprimand from him. However, I made a conscious effort to avoid crossing paths with the teacher and was relieved when she was eventually transferred to another class.

Looking back, I realize that this experience taught me the importance of standing up for oneself and the power of a mother’s love and protection. It also highlighted the need for clear communication and accountability within educational institutions.

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Ollus Ndhomu

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