Absolute distaste contorted the lines of her forehead. With eyes flashing fire, mouth curled in disdain, I hurriedly looked away, fixing my gaze on my clasped hands.
We all fear that eye, that inhumane fake cat eyes.
"Sit down like a big fool!" she thundered.
I didn't even hear her. Her all too domineering presence was too much for me.
It was when I timidly scanned the whole class and on seeing the horror on the faces of my classmates that I snapped back to the present.
Shoving my damp hands into my skirt pocket, I frantically lowered myself, hitting the wooden stool with a strained force.
I hung my head low as the murmur of laughter echoed through my mind.
I couldn't talk or move till the end of the class. Tears stung the back of my eyelids. I've never been more embarrassed in my life.
Her words continued to reverberate in my head all day as I sat glumly in a corner to wonder whether the fault was my unusual shyness or Mrs English teacher's all knowing insatiable personality.
It continued to haunt me as I climbed my bunk to sleep.
When I closed my eyes. I felt like a failure.
Teachers like this ought to be flushed out of the school system. They are like a virus devouring the potentials inherent in the child.
Their myopic view of a child's life is detrimental to both the future and health of the child.
You never know, that child you call blockhead may just need a little patience and encouragement.
African academic mechanism is full of many oaks.
The more I think of it, the more am able to arrive at the conclusion that, "in my own republic, I will expel more teachers than students."
