ON A LIGHTER NOTE...........

I have been in somewhat of a mood this week. A lot of things on my mind, not altogether serious or bad, just thought provoking occurrences and yes, good ones too. Even the good ones got me thinking. For instance, I am getting a lot of positive feedback about the blog and it is mighty encouraging. My aim is to provoke deep thinking as well as create an escape from the stress that comes with living. And so far, responses have proven that it is being achieved. Yet, with successes come bigger challenges. 

My first success is that I started, finally! After much thought, consideration, procrastination and feet dragging, I finally started. That immediately brings with it the challenge of continuing, one that seems oh so simple but isn't quite elementary. Its not enough to start, I must continue. Next big success, people are reading and loving it. That is so flattering but again so challenging, it means I must ensure that the write ups do not just stay good, they must keep getting better. In sticking to and preserving my style, I must be careful not to become predictable or boring. Whew!

 

So dear old reader, thank you for choosing to read, thank you for taking time to comment or attempt to, thank you for pausing to think about the matters raised, thank you for telling some one else. Dear new reader, thank you for stopping by, I hope you fall in love with this and choose to stay. For the readers yet undiscovered, please visit soon and make sure you read up the archives. Thank you all for the compliments, and the challenge!

So today, everything is on a lighter note. I wont be sharing

my thoughts (even though there is so much I would like to share), I will be sharing an experience, one of the most interesting ones I have had all my life. Its a short story and its a gift to you, to thank you as I know how to, and hopefully charm you to stick with me. I hope you sigh and smile as you read, I did all that and more as I scribbled.

In The Service of My Father Land....

'Anti, a ma ni feeling yin gan o'. Those were the parting words from one of my favorite students. It had been an eventful year, one of learning, un-learning and re-learning, one of laughter and anger, of successes and frustrations and finally, it was over. Surprisingly, the eagerness with which I had always thought I would leave to return home was lacking, I had come to find a home among those children, in their wrongly constructed sentences and their sincere hearts.

A year before, at the conclusion of my university education, it was my turn to hearken to the clarion call, the call to go serve my father-land. In all my imaginations, I had always assumed I would serve in Delta or Abuja or Zaria or Calabar, someplace I had not had the opportunity to experience. But as the time drew near, I realized my imaginations were going to stay imaginations as my parents refused to take the risk of letting me leave the southwest in the face of the country's security challenges.

Eventually, I was arranged into Oyo State, the posting to places of primary assignment was however left to fate. And that's how I ended up in Ogbomosho, Ogbomosho grammar school, where I was to live and work for the next ten months.

At my arrival, I met the school principal, a robust looking man in his fifties who promptly explained to me that he was a deacon of the Baptist convention and as such would not permit the wearing of trousers or make-up in his school as they would negatively influence the impressionable students. He further explained that I would teach English language and I would live in the corpers' lodge. He said the corpers' lodge with so much pride that I felt lucky to have been posted to such a school where corpers' welfare was not neglected, until I got to the lodge, it was another story entirely.

The actual drama began when I attempted to teach what was to be my first class. To my dismay, the pupils were well older than their class, troublesome and almost completely unable to converse in English language. As a matter of fact, the only phrases they could say confidently were: 'aunty, two-fighting', 'stop making noise' and 'good morning ma'. The oldest and boldest of them actually got up, took in my small stature and confidently questioned, 'abeyin ni corper ni' meaning, 'don't just say you are the corper'. It was disheartening, more so when they eventually decided the apt way to address me was 'corper mummy English'.

And so the journey began, I returned home to get all the English texts I could get my hands on, especially the 'Brighter Grammar' series. I learned to translate my lesson notes into Yoruba, such that I could explain in both languages. And gradually, it began to look like they were understanding me and we began to make progress. They actually started to show interest and ask questions in class. It was amazingly satisfying.

I remember with smiles on my face the agonizing process of attempting to mark scripts. I do not also think I can forget what it feels like to sometimes repeat the same things day after day for weeks. I'm sometimes amazed at the creative methods I came up with to teach them, like when I had to use Dagrin's 'molenu bi popopo' to explain 'rhyme schemes'. But, most importantly, I can't forget the look in their eyes when they finally comprehend or learn something.

Now the year was ending and I was leaving, some of them crying had bought me gifts, some of them eagerly collect my contact details, others simply attempt to impress me with their mastery of the English Language by expressing their fare wells using the language, examples are 'anti, we have missing you already' and 'anti, a ma ni feeling yin gan o'. I smile and think to myself; maybe they are not orators yet, but they learnt, a lot too. I served my father-land and the hope in the eyes of these students is enough reward, even if I never succeeded in teaching them the difference between the pronunciations of 'fan' and 'van'.

For Nd, Yinka, Timi and Funmi, people to call my own in a strange man's land.

For Michelle, Nike and Tony, sisters and friend whose love knew no boundaries or distance.

For the Adeboyes, who gave me a home away from home.