How time flies; now I am old.
I remember it as if it were yesterday; it was sometime in the nineties.
The best word to describe my state or what I felt then — or what had transpired — would be that it was a cataclitic conundrum that almost wiped out every emotion in me, leading to collegiality within the system.
I still remember those days that I had struggled in parks by the road selling plantain chips. The money that I realized from there wasn’t going for luxury, wasn’t going for play, it wasn’t going for fame — it was going for my education.
I mean those days in college, I had no money for textbooks and I had no money for other things, but I didn’t quit. It was Teacher Nisere that gave me the first dictionary that I used.
While in college — as you might have known that I studied language — I knew what I was doing. I knew where I was heading. Education was my goal and priority. I was the last person to pay my school fees, and my school fees was gotten only in the park.
Really, time flies. Moving on, I graduated from college and I am moving to the next phase of my life. But while in college, a lecturer refused to pass me in my project because I didn’t answer his request. He was one of those lecturers who had cars and felt rich and okay. I refused to be subdued, and that earned me an automatic carry-over.
Initially, I thought that he was probably joking 🧐, or maybe he had seen me hawking in the garage and thought that I was someone without a future ambition. That same lecturer. Others would ask once and back down after being turned down, but he wasn’t. He felt that not responding was a total disaster and that no one could disrespect him.
Because up till this day, I don’t understand what — and why — he didn’t want me to leave, and it was only his course. Like, guys, it wasn’t funny at all. I wept, knowing fully well that he deliberately refused to score me. All other courses — A’s and B’s. I was down psychologically, but I was also beginning my life for the first time.
I went back to the park and didn’t quit. It was my fellowship members that told me never to go to the park anymore. I wish you could have could have seen my picture then, but I have lost it all.
The next year, I went for my carry-over and people began to ask me what the lecturer had done, and I deliberately spilled the buckets. He was still my lecturer and he said that I would have another carry-over. 🧐 Very crazy. It’s like a person getting rejected after a lot of hard work… what am I saying… more than that.
Moving on, I did my project, submitted it, and he was like he won’t pass me. I pleaded with him. He said no.
I can’t remember, but one of those lecturers saw me, and soon many others went to confront him before he decided to free me.
So he would fail me again and again. God forbid. My fellowship members prayed and fasted.
Ha! My eyes have seen a lot during college days. My dad was dead when I was 10 and my mum didn’t have enough money to sponsor me; she was a petty trader.
Today, I now watch as education is evolving. I started with whiteboard markers, and I have graduated to using markers and now electronic boards. Initially, we used online lesson notes, but now we are back to the written ones temporarily.
Who remembers those days when we practiced writing using wooden boards? ✍️ Teaching is fun and beautiful. It is where my passion lies. Where there is life, there is hope, and where there is hope…
Today — I am a teacher, and every time I write testimonials, I write good traits of a child because children change. Children will remember those good reports of their teachers despite their stubbornness.
I plead to all parents, all teachers, all lecturers, and pupils: ma fi iwa buruku ba omo rere je — do not use bad attitudes to spoil those good characters of yours. Also, don't judge based on looks, judge based on the heart of that person.
Thank you all. Hopefully, @theinkwell sees the beauty in my write-up.
All images were sourced from Gemini AI.
Thanks.😊