I am now headmaster of Mwisho wa Lami primary

Although I never mentioned it in my New Year resolutions, a key plan I had this year, and which I thought necessary to keep quiet about, was to be promoted. And thanks to not having talked about it, that is almost happening. Ladies and gentleman, it looks like I am about to achieve one of my life dream about five years ahead of time: I am the current headmaster of Mwisho wa Lami Primary School.

It may be in acting capacity and I may not have received any letter to that effect, but should anything happen to this school now, I am wholly answerable. And that is a huge responsibility entrusted upon these small shoulders. It all has to do with Madam Bensouda’s greed.

As you know, I have had a great working relationship with Bensouda. We have had our ups and downs, but we have been able to resolve them amicably, even though the fact that I am intellectually and academically superior to her has always made her uncomfortable. And Bensouda was a very good headmistress, her weaknesses notwithstanding. Until last term. In fact, her problems can be traced to the time when she bought a car. Remember that state of the art Nissan Unny? Yes, that is the one that is putting Bensouda in trouble – to my advantage. You see, this car is money-thirsty, something that Bensouda seems not to have known, and was totally unprepared for.

“This thing is very addictive,” she told me about the car, in late October. “I can’t move around without the car. Even when I am going to the kiosk to buy eggs, I have to use the car,” she admitted.

In between the time she bought the car and when schools closed, she had spent quite some good money on repairs, fuel and service among other things. “Hii kitu inanyonya pesa,” she lamented to me. “Every week I spend about Sh3,500 on the car.”

“Why don’t you abandon it and use bodaboda?” I asked her.

LOST MONEY, STALLED CAR

“So that you guys can start saying that I am now broke?” So she soldiered on with the car, even as she struggled to maintain it. By the time we closed she had been borrowing money left right and centre. She had taken quite some money from the school, and had even borrowed from me several times.

In December when KCPE was out, I am the one who went for the results. She called me a day before to tell me to go pick the results.

“My problems with the car just got worse,” she said. “Imagine the car engine knocked today.”

“I am really sorry to hear that,” I said, offering support. “Whom did it knock? Was the person injured or is he alive?” I asked.

“The engine knocked itself, it did not knock someone,” she clarified. “I forgot to add water and it is now totally spoilt, I have to buy a new one if I want to use the car.”

She was happy to see the results and congratulate me on the good work that I had done with Tito in our tuition which gave us good results in KCPE.

It was therefore no surprise that towards the end of December, lots of parents from neighbouring villages were coming to our school to seek admission of their children in our school for Class 1. Many others also wanted to transfer their children.

By the time we opened school, I was siting on requests for about 21 students who wanted to transfer from other schools, and 33 to Class 1. Of the 33 that wanted to join our school in Class 1, only 14 had been in Mwisho wa Lami Nursery. I could not make this decision and asked the parents to come on Friday 6th for further directions.

As usual, Bensouda did not come to school on opening day. She only appeared on 5th, arriving on a bodaboda. She walked hurriedly to her office, as if she did not want anyone to know she arrived on a bodaboda when everyone expected her to be driving. After some interactions with other teachers, she called me to her office to get an update of happenings in the school.

“Pesa imepotea na gari imekwama,” she told me before I started any updates. She wasn’t listening to what I was saying, as her mind seemed preoccupied with her financial stress. But her eyes brightened when I told her of the great interest parents from neighbouring schools had with our school.

“We are doing a good job and everyone wants to come here.

“And did you allow them just like that?” she asked me.

“No,” I said. “I asked the parents to come tomorrow and see you.”

“Very good,” she said. “Hapa mpaka tuwafinye kidogo..” she said, then muttered to herself “Thank you God, gari sasa itaamka.”

ADMISSION FEE

I did not follow up on this but the next day, she arrived to school early and I directed the parents who wanted their children transferred to our school to see her, and she saw them one by one. Many left looking dejected but promising to come back the next week.

It was later that evening, at Hitler’s, that I heard some complaints that Bensouda had asked the parents to pay Sh2,500 admission fee.

“Hii maneno lazima ifikie Matiang’i,” said Rasto, whose daughter who is married in a neighbouring village had tried to transfer her son to our school. “Sisi sio wajinga, we know that there is free primary education.” I did not comment on the matter

On Monday I inquired from Bensouda about the same.

“I am not charging any fees,” she said. “Just a small admission fee as we have done a good job and that is why we are attracting students to this school. We can’t just allow anyone to come to this school like that!” she added. I did not tell her of the threats by Rasto that the matter would reach Matiang’i. Last Monday, about four parents came with their children, and after seeing Bensouda, were admitted to school.

Bensouda arrived at school early on Tuesday and admitted some more. She did not come on Wednesday, but had left instructions that any new student had to go through her office.

She was back on Thursday morning. At around 10 am a car drove into our compound. From it came a woman. With her was a man who looked like a parent whom I had seen admit he son on Tuesday. They went straight to the headmistress’s office.

After some time in that office, I was called in. The woman introduced herself as Madam Jane, the new County Director of Education. She asked me if I was aware that we were charging students to be admitted. I said I was not aware, and the parent confirmed that I had not been involved as all the money had been given to Bensouda – and no receipt had been given.

“Madam, you stand interdicted until investigations on this matter are completed. You however need to refund any parents you illegally took money from,” she said.

“You should vacate the school immediately,” she ordered a teary Bensouda out of the office and school.

And looking at me, she added. “Andrew, you are now in charge of this school until further notice. Come to my office on Monday for further directions, I have to rush to another school.”

They left me in the office. And I became the acting headmaster, just like that! Later that evening, Bensouda sent me an SMS saying that she will be back. “That Director of Education will soon know who Skastina is. Ni yeye atafutwa”.

I don’t care if Bensouda comes back. If I die today, it will be written in my eulogy that I was the HM of this great school – and that’s what matters. Let’s wait and see what the director of Education will say tomorrow!