Lead Author: Gameli Agboada
Guest Author:
Efo Kofi Gavor
Chief Editor:
Stephen Baidu
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your
ears;
I come to
request for my share of the beans money,
Not to unjustifiably
attack any teacher of Cemetery L.A. J.S.S
The beans
that men clandestinely sell lives after them,
The dough is
oft deeply interred in their polyester pockets
So let it be
with S.K.P. and his accomplices
The noble
men Kwasi and Gavor hath told you S.K.P. was ambitious
If it were
so, it was a grievous fault,
And
grievously hath S.K.P. answered it
-
Ark
Korkutsey Manthony
Have you ever been asked to bring
buckets of cracked stones to school? Look! I am not talking about any form of punishment
here; I am only referring to something that was more or less part of the syllabus
for some basic schools in those days. I still wonder why our parents were made
to pay all those development levies. Was there no child right activist those days? Hmm!! Anyway!! God dey we dey!
In spite of the demeanour of some
“adifudi” teachers, who took advantage of the prevailing situations and exploited
us on their personal maize and cassava farms, I can still say, with a little
pride, that my stones form part of the walls of my primary school.
I remember those events as if it
had happened yesterday. I still have my all-in-one foolscap notebook that
contained subjects like English Language, Mathematics, General Science, Social
Studies, Cultural Studies, Religious and Morals, Music and Dance, Ghanaian
Language, Stone Skills, sorry! I mean.…Life Skills and Craft.
Ahaa!!! Talking about Craft, may Jah
fire burn all those slightly-rich “babylonic” boys and girls who unnecessarily
raised the marking scheme by presenting fowls and young goats as craft; I woke
up one day just to realize that, brooms made from palm fronds, door mats made
from raffia, cane baskets and the likes were no more fetching big marks. Jah
fire burn those corrupt teachers as well!
Hmm!!! I spent sleepless nights cogitating
over the extent of ‘baby-corruption’ that had eaten deeply into the mental
faculties of even primary pupils. In fact, I need to come out with a book
entitled, “Domestic fowls and young goats created in the image and likeness of Craft.”
Now, let me talk about the
imperative issue; the very reason why I borrowed your ears.
I never knew I had a hidden
farming potential inside me until a new Agric Science teacher was transferred to
Cemetery L.A. J.S.S. He is a man who surprisingly and annoyingly loves the
practical aspect of Agric Science so much.
“My name is Mr. ‘Lasah’ S.K.P and you will
never know what the S.K.P. stands for”, the new teacher told the class confidently.
I guess nobody told him that there were young cryptographers, like Willie Nyonator
and Nicky Akakpo in the school. It took only two days for Willie to reveal what
the “S” stands for; I think it is either ESKIMO or ESTUARY……S for
Eskimo.
SKP was a very fashion-conscious
teacher in his heydays. His selection of pair of trousers needed no special
designs from the tailor. When SKP tightly secures his oversized trousers with a
‘frog-leather’ belt, the resulting ‘gathers’ around his waistline was a sight
to behold; it was a tourist site. When it comes to shoes, he had a fine taste;
they were strategically selected to aid his height. If there ever was any
shortage of seats in the staff common room those days, SKP would have being the
least bordered……. I will not continue since my attention has just been drawn to
the fact that SKP’s clothing is patented.
During one of SKP’s lessons, he
started with ‘Farm Animals’, then he shared a brief joke with the class, and
then quickly changed the topic to ‘Leguminous plants’, and then to, ’how to
cultivate beans’; he did all these in a 45-minute lesson. That was when I
started suspecting that SKP had an ulterior motive.
Few days after that confusing
lesson, SKP announced to the three form 2 classes that he had acquired a piece
of farmland which is located somewhere around the cemetery. The news brought
gladness to the hearts of boys and men alike. Please do not be surprised when I
say ‘boys and men alike’; after all, who didn’t know that some of those form 2B
boys were using ‘football-age’ in the school’s register? And who says I can’t
recognize a disguised old age when I see one? Their true ages were very evident
in the frightening sound of their snores during boring hot afternoon lessons. I
always thanked God for the lives of the few genuine young boys who were able to
coexist with these other ‘young boys’.
On our first site visit, there
was a mini-civil war over the farmland. No sooner had we entered the land than
an old woman, who appeared from nowhere, started pointing accusing fingers at SKP
for stealing her land. To the surprise of the crowd, SKP started sweating
generously, blinking his eyes faster than normal and concurrently swallowing
saliva unnecessarily. Thanks to Gley, Mortey, Dzanku, Anani, Dzamefe and some
other boys who, in spite of making mockery of SKP initially, took charge and succeeded
in doing damage control. Hurray!! The battle is lost and won!
We became much more surprised at
SKP’s behaviour after the old woman was gone. He blamed the boys for not
allowing him to squarely face the woman. He then boastfully narrated how the
land was single-handedly acquired through his blood and toil. Honestly….., I wished
the woman had returned that very moment.
After about an hour of feverish weeding,
Mortey decided to replenish his lost energy with some ripe ‘akukor’ (yellow
mombin/hog plum). In the process of climbing the tree, he gave in to the force
of gravity and embraced the rocky ground (hlihakpe) beneath him in a painful
hug. Whiles he was busily attending to his contusions, amidst the annoying
“awwwn”, “awwwn” sound from the girls, SKP angrily rushed toward the scene with
the sole aim of punishing him for disobedience. When SKP was about to strike
him with a cane, his arm shockingly froze midway. Ah? What happened? The crowd
was curious. The feeling of pain from the fall, and the seemingly ungratefulness
and betrayal from SKP caused Mortey to pass a derogatory comment which struck
and demoralized SKP. Oh dear! What a bad day it was for the honourable SKP?
After some weeks of hard work and
‘child labour’, we were beautifully rewarded with a bumper harvest. Even though
it was a blissful moment when Esther Asuah and Ethel Gakpe were asked to
display a sample of the harvested beans at one morning assembly, I was not very
comfortable with the gleeful looks on the faces of some teachers.
Now the big question that was
running through everybody’s mind; “What are we going to do with the bountiful harvest?”
Men like Borbor Kruzo wished the
harvest was shared among the students according to beans-eating capabilities…Na lie!!!…God is not a slack concerning His
promises.
Men like Victor Biaku wished it
was shared according to neatness…Torfiakwa!!!....No
weapon fashioned against the “small poles”, “stay”, “alikoto” “I and you” and
“four corners” boys shall prosper. Amen!
Some of the smart girls wished it
was shared according to fluency in the queen’s language. Kai!!! This is beans we are talking about oo!.....What then becomes of the
vernacular-infested ‘Kpako’ boys like us? The Lord is our shield and fortress!
The teachers unanimously decided
to sell the beans and save the money in the school’s coffin….Sorry! I mean, coffers.
Few days later, it was announced that the amount of money realized from the
beans was ¢11,500.00. Whaaat?!! Boys exclaimed in their minds. According to expect
market analysis made by Bernice and Beatrice (the Kporvuvu twins), that quantum
of beans should have cost at least ¢35,000.00 in the Ho central market (Asigame);
and a rather ambitious guesstimate of ¢70,000.00 was also quoted by one firewood
dealer from kodzobi, who was on a business tour around the school. “Hmm!! But
how? Only ¢11,500.00 for our hard labour? No! We have been swindled!” I could
have sworn on my grandfather’s ‘green-khaki’ trousers that we had been bitterly
swindled. I took a closer look at the scars of old blisters in my palms and
wept within my heart. Ah ah ah ah!!! We should have taken a second look at
Borbor Kruzo’s suggestion. Some of the boys were even lashed severely for openly
challenging the price of the beans. Hmm! Ok! No problem!….”every dog has its
day”.
Ok just pause and listen to my
little confession: I, Efo Gameli, my own father’s son, was an accomplished
economist in my own right in those days. I therefore converted the beans money,
which I need not be told by any ‘aladura’ pastor was shared among some of the
teachers, into a loan and debited their accounts. The imaginary loan plus the
accumulated interest was exactly equal to the next term’s extra class fee. So,
it wasn’t like I didn’t pay the fees oo, I just...eermmm, ok let’s say I balanced
things up here and there. But even if you feel like accusing me of anything,
you better hold your peace. After all, the idea was not mine; I was pressurized
by Efo Eli and Efo Gavor. End of confession!
Now let me continue…………..
During the next term, SKP treated
a topic on, ‘Vegetables’. And just
before he brought the topic to an end, he suggested another practical exercise;
pepper and tomato farming. The class, to his utmost amazement, welcomed the
news with a resounding round of applause. SKP could not hide his joy. He even made
unrealistic promises concerning future harvests; he thought we were too naïve to
fall into his ploy again.
Even though some of the outspoken
boys openly doubted the success of the project, SKP was unperturbed. That very
afternoon, he went to buy bamboo sticks, pepper and tomato seedlings. He
coerced us to prepare beds, water them, plant the seedlings and also fence
around the whole garden. Whiles Eloh, Pi-Bansah and co were in charge of fencing,
Kwasi Adu and Nicky Akakpo were controlling the manure (cow dung) department.
We came to school the next day to
encounter the expected and unexpected. The bamboo fence was broken into and all
the seedlings were uprooted but the beds were untouched. Upon hearing the news, SKP broke down into uncontrollable
tears and cursed bitterly all day long. I felt pity for Miss. Mahama (the
female Agric. teacher), who had to spend most part of the day enduring SKP’s
sobbing and gnashing of teeth. Whiles SKP was lamenting over his loss, boys were
secretly celebrating the disaster with ‘poki’, ‘aliha’ and ‘ewunabiledorme’
actively supplemented with ‘atsifufui’, ‘bofloat’, ‘atsormor’ and ‘polo’.
After three days of excessive mourning,
some of the girls went to the staff common room to console SKP. He was even
made to believe that it was Spiderman and Sankopee who were jointly responsible
for the destruction but only God knows the hand that delivered us from another unrewarding
venture.
FREEDOM at last!!!
“For the wages of ‘small GREED’
is……………………………”
Have a lovely day.
No comments:
Post a Comment