I would rather die than go back to school after my demotion

If there is a week that I want to forget in my teaching life, it is last week. I started the week with gusto, aware that I would be the talk of the school and the entire sub-location as I had bought a brand-new engine bicycle.

If you remember, I had wanted to buy a mountain bike but Pius told me it was not “Deputish”.

I had heard that there was a teacher in the neighbouring constituency who owned an engine bike and when I went to him, he encouraged me to get one.

“You use the engine when climbing hills and, as a result, you won’t arrive at meetings or at school while still sweating,” he said. “It’s just a motorcycle, but much cheaper,” he added.

So I bought the bicycle on hire purchase and rode back on it from the district headquarters, arriving only an hour after the matatu – a new record. As expected, the bicycle brought the entire staffroom to a standstill, with all the male teachers test-riding it.

Remain intact
“I like it for one reason,” said Lutta. “Since the bicycle engine does most of the heavy work, the body engine will remain intact!”

That Monday, I instructed all the teachers to submit their updated records of work to my desk by Wednesday morning. I also ordered all the pupils to cut their hair short by the same Wednesday.

On Tuesday, we got information that the AEO wanted Juma and I to see him urgently. We did not know why, but went to his office immediately.
After finding out how the school was doing, he went straight to the point.

“I have some bad news for both of you.” We kept quiet, waiting for the worst.
“When I promoted you, some people were not happy,” he said. “They wrote to TSC and KNUT and this has generated a lot of noise.”

“But you assured us that your appointment letter was final?” I asked.
“Yes, but they poisoned the PDE that I have been promoting my people. Yet you are all qualified.”

“Very qualified,” Juma added.
“This thing is now big; I have your letters from TSC.” I opened mine.

Excerpts: Reference is made to the letter from the AEO’s office promoting you to the position of deputy headmaster. This is to inform you that the purported promotion has been rescinded since due process was not followed before the appointment.

The position was never advertised and no competitive interviews were carried out.

Should any vacancy arise in future, you are free to apply. We thank you for your service and wish you the best as you resume your teaching responsibilities in your station.

I could not believe that this was happening to me. Word of my demotion soon spread far and wide. The pupils and teachers at my school celebrated when they heard the news.

Unknown to me, both teachers and students had nicknamed me “Andrew Danger” because of my strictness.

As a result, I stayed at the market centre the whole day, and only went home after dark, as I wanted to avoid attention. My father seemed to be happy at the sudden turn of events.

“Ulimea pembe ukasahau ni mimi ndio niliongea na AEO,” he said. “Kama ni ka-degree kalikupea udeputy, mbona umefutwa?”
Angry, I left for Hitler’s.

Saphire – for the first time – and Alphayo each bought me “pickup” to say pole, although I learnt that they had been celebrating my demotion minutes before I arrived.

On Wednesday, I did not go to school. I slept the whole day. I went to school on Thursday just before midday. The new HM had reported and Mr Juma had reclaimed his office and returned all my personal effects to the staffroom.

I found them scattered on the floor – with no chair available for me to sit on.
On the staffroom blackboard, someone had written a methali: Mpanda ngazi hushuka. Below it was written: Danger is no more.

Saphire informed me that the new HM has threatened to discipline me for being absent with no explanation. He had also appointed my enemies Lutta the senior master and Kwame the time-tabler.

The pupils pointed fingers at me as I walked to Juma’s office. It was clear what they were talking about. I told Juma that it would be difficult for us to serve in such a poisoned environment.

Juma said he was comfortable as he had antagonised no one, but advised me to write to TSC. That afternoon, I sat down and wrote a letter to the TSC and delivered it to the DEO’s office the same day.

Sir,
Following my demotion back to the staffroom, I wish to intimate to you my current predicament, which is direly precarious. My colleagues and students have ganged up against me with intent and purpose to punish me for having followed your clearly laid down procedures during my stint as Deputy HM.

Needless to say, keeping me in this school will subject me to emotional trauma, psychological imbalance, spiritual harm, economic difficulties, possible physical and/or bodily harm; scenarios that will turn my sojourn here an un-ending occupational hazard.

I therefore write to you requesting you to transfer me to another station so that I can continue to impart my indisputable years of knowledge to more willing pupils, an understanding HM, a more accommodative staff, and an appreciative village.

Yours expectantly,

Mwalimu Andrew, Esquire

GHC, CRE, INSHA.

I haven’t gone back to school since then. I would rather die than go back to that school.