The Irresistible Teacher

 I always love to read posts from this blog because I can relate to all of the stories. They are so 'up my street' if I can use a Newcastle slang. I can truly identify with them. It is like reading it in  '3D' as if I was there. 

  

 One of the recent posts which Gracillis wrote   “The Enemy next door” story  struck a special cord. The story reminds me of a teacher in evening classes back then. While  I was growing up, it was quite common for children to have additional classes after school in a  different educational setting, usually not in their original schools. This had the added advantage of bringing many brains from different backgrounds and sure saved one from being just a local champion. Like most parents who wanted the best for their children,  I was not left out as my father in particular who valued education enrolled me for evening classes.

At that time in my country, there was a new move to change the educational system structure to what was called the 6-3-3-4 system and as such some terms were cut short to make up the smooth running of the system change over.Then I was just a green teenager, being just thirteen and moving to fourteen years of age.

I cannot quite recall  how and why it happened but what I remember most is that I started  this particular evening classes a  little late and being such an “Efiko” (meaning a serious student),from the very first day ,I decided not to be left behind. Before I resumed  lectures, I covered up all lost grounds by borrowing notes from friends. I set about the arduous task of updating all the past lessons and in no little time, all my notes were up to date  and I was ready and on the same page with every other pupil.

So  I began attending lectures until the red letter day when I met this teacher. On the fateful day, while we were all waiting for lectures and acting the way pupils usually did when there were  no teachers around, we suddenly heard then the tapping sounds of heavy marching footsteps which sounded almost like  the Dinosaur match parade. !The authority behind the steps was unmistakable. Everyone  jumped into their seats and assumed very serious student positions. 

“Who is this teacher sef?!” I wondered to myself and also simultaneously asked aloud. My friends gave me the introduction without mincing words “he  is the no nonsense Teacher Mr O”

Hardly before the introduction finished ,he walked into class with an air of authority and a sense of royalty. This teacher, Mr O started barking orders at everyone. He did  not only  establish rules but gave  consequences for  anyone who would break them. He looked every inch that he was quite  capable of  carrying  out all he threatened and the more he spoke, the more I was convinced that they were not just threats but promises he meant to keep unreservedly  and I secretly made up my mind to be of the best possible behaviour so as not to attract his wrath. 

After the formidable entrance and seeming thoroughly satisfied that all his pupils were fully under his control, he began to teach us. As he gave his lectures, he moved his tall fame round the class moving from seat to seat as if there was some personal satisfaction in ensuring that every student saw him within a very close range. It was almost like an inspector kind of situation. My heart raced as I realized he was making his way towards  my direction. With every student in front of me on my row he approached, the faster my hearts beat reminding me of the drummer at church who beat the drums faster making  most of the worshipers increase their tempo as they danced  in frenzy. Eventually he got to my seat and  barked at me to   introduce myself since he had not seen me before. I was not sure if this was a good thing but was surprised at his attention to detail and the fact that he actually noticed I was new .I quickly stood up respectfully and  introduced myself. His eyes still seemed to be scrutinizing me when I stopped as if he was looking for something. He looked around and demanded to see my notes. As he flipped through the pages, his stern look  softened and  his eyebrows took another position. Somehow it seemed he smiled but this quickly disappeared as he looked up and commented that it was a good thing that all my notes were up to date. He nodded briefly at me and walked away making no further comments. I began to doubt if he ever spoke to me or if I was imagining it all but turning his back at me , he returned his inspection of the class and continued the lectures . When the lectures finished, I heaved a sigh of relief but alas, it was too soon. By the next lecture, he began paying attention to me that was uncomfortable and  I realized to my dismay that seeing him was becoming a dread, making it impossible for me to concentrate and truly learn. He constantly harassed me.

Teacher Mr O  would come to class and bark out my surname. I would go 'yes sir!'

See me in my office at close of evening lessons. I would say “ok”. 

Everyone in the class  would give me this look of pity wondering what I had done to be  in trouble. I knew I had done nothing but felt it was best not to argue. I also knew I would not see him at the close of the evening lessons because like a hawk hovering and protecting her young, my father was always waiting for me long before the lessons finished and I  was very happy to walk quite straight into the air conditioned car to ride home with my dad.

But this teacher Mr O  kept on coercing  me. My innocent mind could not understand why. I kept saying “I”ll see him after the class” but he kept insisting on seeing him after the whole lessons for the day. 

I told him that that was not possible as  my dad was  always waiting by the school gate before the lessons were over but I could actually come with my dad to see him At this suggestion, he frowned and made it clear to me that I was to come alone. Somehow I was hoping that my dad would not come to pick me up so that I could eventually obey  the order to stop the harassment. The chances of this happening was like the camel going through the eye of the needle but Mr O kept at it persistently like the drops of rainfall on our corrugated roof when it rained, he did not stop at any opportunity to remind me to see him after the evening classes.

So one fateful day I was to go home by myself and felt heaven had smiled on me to end the torment. I went to see Mr O  after the evening classes. As I approached him, he acknowledged me with a brief nod asking that I wait and carry his bag. This was not an odd request as most teachers usually used some students to carry out certain chores. I picked up his heavy bag more out of fear than obedience. I was so frightened of him and worse still was the fact that everyone I knew was frightened of him.

He barked more orders at me and I obeyed everything he said. It appeared he was leaving the school premises and turned his back at me without saying a word but I knew the orders had been communicated by his body language .He strolled in front of me while I followed carrying his bag down the road till we finally reached a smelling hotel down the street. He went past doors and opened a door and I followed him in.

When we got into the room, I was wondering if he wanted to teach me anything in this room, so I dropped the bag but then Mr O started to touch me. You know at this moment I didn’t understand what was happening, being so very nave. Myself and my siblings had been brought up and monitored closely by our parents and I did not have any street sense!

I still had my clothes on but all of a sudden, there was this thing in my head that this was wrong. I shouted ' stop it now! I ll tell my father' ..I was surprised at myself but more surprised at the look of shock on his face. He didn’t expect me to stand up to him and it confirmed my gut feelings that it was wrong and that the next thing to do was to quickly leave the room. I stormed off and he did not hold me back  as I walked off. Once again, I was thankful for the protection of my father. Although he was not present, I had just used his name to escape from a monster.

He never harassed me after that incident Like most pedophiles, after the encounter with Mr O that fateful  day he kept avoiding me till I finished my secondary education(another two years).  It was like it never happened but it was after I  finished  my final year in secondary school SSS 3(or year 11 in UK educational system) that I found out that I was just a lucky victim. Mr O was masterful at having his way with most girls, using fear to dominate them. In addition, he promised those sitting for their final school leaving examinations to   help with leaked examination papers to ensure their success.. Somehow my protected background did not allow me to get  full wind of what was happening to  other girls until I reached the age  when I had the liberty to visit friends and even chat about relationships and boyfriends.

I did  not set my eyes on  Teacher Mr O again until  when   I became an undergraduate. He was a caricature of his former formidable self. He was so thin and rumours had it that he died later from AIDS……..I don’t know how true this is but if  is really true, I wonder how many innocent girls he had infected. Those who probably escaped being infected surely have emotional scars from someone who abused his position of authority.

In hindsight of these events, I promised myself that if I have a daughter (I do have three sons), I’ll teach her to be assertive , arming her early with sex education and put a bit of street sense so that she will know how to spot out sinister and evil people who may appear to be charming or irresistible  like teacher Mr O. But even with my boys, I teach them different alert signs but their innocent minds cannot really understand  but what I would say to anyone who has a minor living under their roof   is to  teach them danger  and warning signals and let them know that they can approach you if they spot any alert signs  from anyone , no matter how respectable they are.

I still shudder with fear but with a sense of gratitude to God as I realize that it could have gone horribly wrong that day. Teacher  Mr O  was banking on using fear. He didn't have any other  plans  but  intimidation.. Honestly ,I don't know where the boldness to stand up to him came from. Maybe from not needing any material to pass examination as I was a very brilliant student without the need for exam expo to pass.. I wasn't  born again then, my mum didn't talk about things like this. 

I believe God who sees the end from the beginning just stepped in and preserved me.

From the desk of Mercy

Kike