What you need to know:
- That day, I asked Bensouda if she could talk to some of her colleagues who could consider Fiolina as a BOM teacher.
- We agreed with Bensouda on terms and I was very sure I would convince Fiolina to take up the position.
When I implemented Fiscal Structural Adjustment austerity measures in my home, I was under no illusion that it was going to be an easy ride. I knew very well that it would be difficult.
There is a reason wahenga called it kukaza mshipi. And I knew that the first person to oppose it was going to be Fiolina, the laugh of my envious life. But little did I know the extent that she would go to, to force me to return my family to the opulence they had been accustomed to before.
“These are draconian measures you are implementing here, dear,” she said on the third day – the day we had chosen not to have supper. The day when everyone was supposed to jipanga.
My attention, however, was not on convincing her that I was being fair. It was on the word draconian. Where had she got that word from? The way we all know Fiolina, this was not a word she would use in a sentence just like that.
If my memory serves me well, the last time I had heard someone use that word, it was my colleague Alex who called me draconian when I forced teachers to follow a timetable I had made without consulting them. As if I am consulted on everything that happens in my life.
I ignored my thoughts and tried to reason with her, telling her these were temporary measures, and if successful, we would soon be drinking lots of milk, eating lots of eggs for breakfast, chicken for lunch and swimming in money, literally.
“And who said I want to swim in money?” she asked. “All I want is not to lack. To live the normal life we have been used to.”
This was after I refused to give her money to go the salon, and suggested that she cuts her hair.
“I can’t believe that you are forcing me to cut my hair, you want me to look like a ghost? Is that what you want?”
Deep down, I wondered whom Fiolina wanted to impress given that she is always at home.
“You don’t leave the house a lot. We are wasting money taking you to the salon when you sit here throughout with a kitambaa on your head,” I said.
This upset her.
“You think I will forever be mke wa nyumbani?” she asked and told me that, as the most educated woman in Mwisho wa Lami, she had big plans of getting a job, growing in the teaching profession and looking great.
I reminded her that teachers who graduated in 2018 still have three more years to go before they can be considered for TSC posting.
“That’s what you always tell me!” she responded. “I know of teachers I graduated the same year with and they already have jobs. Are you just happy to see me sitting here doing nothing? Don’t you want me to also earn and help you? Or you just want to control me?”
“I want you to get a job,” I said, even though I did not see her passing any interview, unless I coached her extensively.
“I know you don’t want me to get a TSC job since you fear that if I do, I may overtake you and even become your boss since I am smarter than you.”
I really wanted to laugh at this. Didn’t everyone know that I was brighter and smarter than her?
She went on: “Anyway, I am not cutting my hair since I have an interview this week, and while I know you do not want me pass, I want to assure you that I will pass. When I get this job, ndio utanijua.”
I tried to ask her where she was going for an interview, but she declined to respond, adding that she would show me that she did not need me to get a job.
To my surprise, Fiolina even had a CV, and it was not the one I made her a few years ago. This one was very detailed, and she called it a resume.
Invited for interview
“Who helped you make this CV?” I asked as I wanted to update mine to this level.
“You think you are the only one who can help me get a CV, or a job?” she asked.
She added the CV I had made her was not good, and that is why she wasn’t being invited for interviews.
“With this one, I am sure I will get a job soon, and I won’t be coming to you for money.”
While it was good for Fiolina to get a job, I was not going to allow her to get one through someone I did not know, or a job where I had no control. I wasn’t sure who between Alex and Pius was trying to help her get a job.
That day, I asked Bensouda if she could talk to some of her colleagues who could consider Fiolina as a BOM teacher.
“Why can’t she come to Mwisho wa Lami?” Bensouda posed, adding that she would accommodate one BOM teacher.
“Given that we increased classes, we need an extra teacher, and I think Fiolina will do a great job.”
While I wasn’t sure I wanted Fiolina to be in the same staffroom with Alex, I thought it made sense for her to work at a place where I had full control of what she did, her pay and whom she talked to.
We agreed with Bensouda on terms and I was very sure I would convince Fiolina to take up the position.
To my shock, she said no, even without thinking about it.
“Not when you are working there, controlling me and not under Bensouda,” she said, adding that the post she was interviewing for was bigger and she would get a higher pay!
Who could be the person helping Fiolina get a job? Should I allow her? And if she doesn’t get it, is it a good idea for her to join Mwisho wa Lami?
In the meantime, I hope she fails the interview, and comes back to me begging!