On a collision course with Catherina about Brandon

Although I was disappointed that Catherine, or rather Catherina — a younger, junior professional colleague and a woman with whom we have done many obvious things — was appointed the HM, I was encouraged because God had presented a chance for me to be near power, and as such, an opportunity to control things at Mwisho wa Lami Primary. Under Bensouda, it had been difficult to control things the way I would have liked to. Like her name suggests, Bensouda was a woman with a mind of her own; and although many people considered us friends, I can today tell you that the friendship we had was totally remote-controlled — by her. 

News of Catherina’s appointment was received with lots of happiness in Mwisho wa Lami, by both enemies of development and friends of development. And last Sunday, I arrived at Hitler’s to such a warm reception.

“We always wanted you to be the headmaster of the school,” said Alphayo. “But if your wife is the headmaster then you are bigger than the headmaster. We are so happy.” I tried in vain to remind them that Catherina was not my wife.

“Uko na bahati sana Dre,” said Nyayo. “Unaweza fanya kile unataka and nothing will happen.”

“I want to make it very clear that I have only one dear wife, Fiolina, and I do not have any other,” I said to them. There was laughter everywhere. I wondered why.

“Catherina is your wife,” said Alphayo. “Huyo Fionila ni mvua tu amejikinga.”

“Fiolina ni mpita njia,” said Rasto. “Catherina ametupea Brandon. What has Fiolina given us?”

As I staggered home later that evening, these things went through my mind.

The next day (last Monday) I arrived at school very early, with plans to prepare things in readiness for the staff meeting. To my shock, Catherina was already in school. She called me to her office and gave me a black book to sign in indicating my time of arrival, and instructed that she expected every teacher to sign it. “The book will always sit in my office when I am in, and in your office when I am away. Every teacher, upon arrival must come to my office or your office to sign it upon arrival.”

“Morning guys, Ni kubaya,” I wrote on the staffroom Whatsapp group to which I have not added her number. “Boss is already here and you have to sign the black book when you arrive.”

“Dre please manage the new boss,” wrote Kuya. “Hapa ni Mwisho wa Lami hakuna mbio, atachoka tu”

NEW MANAGEMENT

Most teachers arrived within minutes and went to her office. Those who arrived after 8am were given a stern warning and told to always arrive in school on time. Except Saphire. Saphire did not arrive late that day. He did not even arrive!

Come parade time and she ran the parade herself. Rather than wait for me to introduce her to the pupils as the new HM, Catherina went ahead with the business of the day, clearly showing everyone that there was a new sheriff in town. By 8.30am all teachers were in class, and you could hear the buzz as teachers imparted knowledge in different classes. At around 9am, with the staffroom meeting just half an hour away, I went to see her so that we could plan for the staffroom meeting. I had always organised staff meetings and would usually have a briefing with Bensouda a few minutes before to the meeting where we would agree on how we would face the teachers and issues.

“Come in Dre,” she said when I knocked. “Keep the door open,” she told me when I tried to close the door behind me. With Bensouda, we always talked behind closed doors, for obvious reasons.

“You are not in class?” she asked as soon as I sat down. That question caught me off guard. “This morning I do not have classes,” I lied. I had a class but there is an unwritten rule here that I do not go to class on a day when we have a staff meeting.

“So what brings you here?” she asked, keen to return to what she was doing.

“About the staffroom meeting at 9.30 today,” I started.

“Oh yes, I am aware of it. What about it?” she asked me.

“I have come we discuss it,” I went on, words disappearing from my mouth.

“Ok, what exactly about it?” she asked, looking at me straight in the eye. I was disarmed, I could not believe that the same lady, who a few years ago would visit me and shyly sit in my simba spending time with my album was the same one sternly looking at me straight in the eye and asking tough questions. Words failed me.

“I just wanted to confirm the time of the meeting,” I sad resignedly.

“Oh the meeting is at exactly 10 am,” she said emphatically, “Anything else?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I meekly said, and walked out of her office.

“Andrew,” she called me as I left. This was also surprising, Catherine had never called me Andrew. She always calls me Dre.

“Can I have a look at the time table?” she asked. “Or let me just come to the staffroom so we have a look. I showed her where the timetable was and she studies it for a few minutes.

“Something doesn’t look right with this timetable,” she said. “I don’t know what it is?

“By the way you said you have no class and I can see you are supposed to be in Class Seven?” she observed.

“My apologies, that must have skipped my mind,” I said. She did not say anything, just shook her head and walked to her office.

She was seated in the staffroom at exactly 10am and started with roll call. Eric and Lena, her bad hair in tow, who arrived late were given a stern warning, and told to always keep time for meetings.

HOME AFFAIRS

“I’m just a few days into this school and I can already see that the journey of making Mwisho wa Lami great again will not be an easy one,” she started.

“There will be no discipline amongst students if the teachers are not disciplined; and no teacher will not go to class if the deputy doesn’t go,” she said looking at me. “Andrew you must lead by example. I am headmistress but I will be going to class as well, who are you not to go?”

“My apologies Mama Brandon,” I said. “That was an oversight on my side. It won’t happen again.

“And how did you just call me?” she asked. “We are in school Andrew not at home. Let’s respect those boundaries.”

“Anyway, please draw up a new school timetable and give me some lessons.” She went on to issue more executive orders. Without even consulting anyone, she fired Madam Ruth as games mistress and in her place appointed Kuya. Kuya was also appointed as Academic Master.

“I am also not happy with the general hygiene of this school,” she said. Before she could proceed, someone knocked the staffroom door and entered even before they could be let in. It was Brandon.

“Mummy,” Brandon said as he walked to his mother. The stern-faced Catherine had immediately softened, and the motherly side of her took over as she welcomed Brandon for a long warm embrace.

“How have you been?” he asked the boy as she wiped dirt on his face and straightened his shirt.

“Umeoga kweli?” she asked him to which the boy answered that he hadn’t showered for two days.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Kuya please continue with the meeting,” she said as she walked with the boy to her office with the boy. In her office, I could see her try to clean up Brandon, wipe his nose, face etc. She then dug into her bag and gave the boy a handkerchief after which she escorted the boy to the nursery school.

It was a different Catherine who came back to the meeting. The stern face was replaced with a warm, motherly face. She let Kuya continue with the meeting. She called me to her office after the meeting.

“I am not happy with how Brandon was looking this morning Andrew,” she said in an official tone. “I want to take the boy and stay with him, that boy is suffering.”

“We can’t discuss this in your office,” I answered. “We can talk about it at our home if you are serious.” I then left her office.

“What?” she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks. I left the office and went to class. We haven’t talked since, and she has been running the school with Kuya.