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.
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.