Writing Feedback / "I AM NOT A MERE TEACHER" - creative essay [3]

It is only 5 am yet I can sleep no more. Unfortunate, you may think. But I love this! Nothing gets my heart racing than the thrill of a new day. I hurriedly gobble my abbreviated breakfast. "Better days ahead," I reassure myself. My legs chauffeur me to my heaven on earth. By the way, my area politician should be ashamed of lying to me that he would tarmac this road if we voted him in. The fellow instead built himself a mansion and employed two unnaturally muscular guards to keep off 'unwanted visitors.' Finally, "good morning students?" They respond cheerfully. I continue, "today we shall learn how to..."

I chuckle when anybody dismisses me as a mere teacher. I am a dispenser of hopes, dreams, ambition and all the good things that we have in our society, of course, apart from the politician! Almost everybody gives up on the chap who could only manage a 120 out of the imaginary 500 in the grade 8 exam. But I don't. I received her in grade 9 and tell her she is many things but daft. If she crams not lyrics than perfect squares, I promptly give a CAT to refocus her mind. I can't forget to warn her that the fellow complimenting her hair is a hungry wolf. Thou shall fall in live with thy syllabus, period. At times she comes crying and then I let go off my math textbook and offer a shoulder- a metaphorical one, I must add!

With such a noble job, it beats logic that I am still hovering precariously a few inches above minimum wage. On the other hand, I do get paid. Producing an engineer, or better still, a teacher would certainly massage my heart. Inevitably, mossy of my students don't make it to campus. I am glad when I see Kerubo in a grocery store and not in a skimpy see-through dress. Kamau is a bus driver. That is one less village idler. Suleiman works as an accountant. I also heard that Nzioka supplies milk to four primary schools. At first glance, these achievements seem more inflated than the tender prices on TV. But these students (and their teachers) have worked hard considering the odds.

Let none call me a mere teacher. Where the society sees hopeless individuals, I see candles in need of a flame.

Writing Feedback / My Town: Six independent pairs of eyes fling suspicious glances at me, they shake heads in confusion [3]

The man next to me violently puffs out clouds of smoke from his mouth like an overburdened locomotive. He silently chases me to the other side of this wobbly bench.

One man, a woman and a second man atop a motorcycle, none has a helmet.
A young man carries a bucket full of water on his left shoulder. Splash - Splash! The water protests
A boy tugs his car - an empty biscuit carton with sticks and bottle tops at its base - across the rough uneven road. Both the car and the driver bounce in exhilaration.

Three youth hammering nails into a new market stall
A couple walks by hand in hand. If only the lady could donate half of her smile to the gentleman.
Three bars. I can't see a hotel. I'm hungry.
A man staggers. I confirm the hour. It is barely eleven in the morning.
The newly painted purple building is incongruous with its neighbouring companions.
Incessant cries of keyboards being assaulted by ruthless swift fingers ring the lonely Tech-Savvy Cyber Café.
A motorbike zooms past. This one carries a silver barrel of KEG.
A dog sniffing all over the place
Our couple retraces their path. The gentleman holds an overfed plastic bag. The lady is all giggles.
The woman at Wanyokabi Tailor Shop gives the glossy dark tan cloth material one last look. She scissors it with finesse. Someone will get a suit next week.

A curious boy walks by and peeps into this piece of paper.
A carpenter animatedly hacks at a protruding piece. After a sigh and a stream of sweat, she resumes the fight.
Mother and Son peel potatoes at their front yard.
Some coffee berries lay on a sack in the sun. I am unable to pinpoint their owner.
Three men in black gumboots debate: Two hundred thousand was too much...No, Mzee Njogu is a rich man... (The rest is inaudible from this distance)

Six independent pairs of eyes fling suspicious glances at me. I abbreviate my soft drink in three gulps. They shake their heads in confusion.