Bensouda’s return dims my hope to be principal

If there is one person who can truly be said to have the proverbial nine lives of a cat, it is Mrs Skastina Majani, our female headmistress, commonly known as Bensouda.

You see, Bensouda has been in this school for quite some time, during which she has a number of incidents that should have seen her go.

Before the January transfer, Bensouda had previously been transferred once, and was at some point interdicted. But she keeps coming back, like a stubborn tick.

So this year, when she was transferred, I was so sure that she is gone – for good. Unlike other teachers who had serious problem with her, I did not. My happiness of her exit was because I strongly believed that I would be offered her job since it is in the public domain that I am more qualified  than her: both academically, intellectually and professionally.

And since many principals were affected in the mass transfers, some of them prominent and from very big schools, I was 100 per cent sure that it was over for Bensouda. If the principal of Kakamega High, Maranda Boys and many other big names could not resist being transferred, who was Bensouda?

REJECTED NEW HM

And once the Mwisho wa Lami community rejected the new HM who had been sent here, I assumed office, even though I was speaking to Bensouda on a daily basis – as I waited for official communication from TSC. To show that I was serious about my intentions, I started sitting in the HM’s office, but locked the deputy’s office, as I knew Kuya would want to sit there - and under no circumstances would I allow him to be my deputy.

And the other week, you will remembering me moving with speed to creatively fill in the position of teachers on leave, so that learning can proceed.

I did not just hire anybody, I went for Mwisho wa Lami’s finest brains. As such we started last week on a high note.

I had been told that the new HM would report on Monday, but intelligence reaching me by Sunday evening indicated that the community, led by Nyayo and others, were eagerly waiting to beat him up and send him away if he showed up. He did not appear. Bensouda kept following the events, and my other intelligence told me that she was the one sponsoring Nyayo’s group.

EXCITED TONE

That Monday evening, Bensouda, with whom I had been communicating through SMS and WhatsApp, called me.

“Guess what?” she stated in a very excited tone. I told her I couldn’t guess anything. I have never guessed in life, even during exams

“I am back!” she said. She was very happy. Honestly, did she expect me to be happy for her? I wondered.

But knowing that at the work place you at times have to play politics well, I pretended and told her I was happy.

“I can’t wait for you to come back,” I told her. In reality, my wish to have her go forever so that I can take over the office.

That evening, devastated, I passed by Hitler’s, after a long time, to nurse my tribulations. There I found a very excited Nyayo, with his retinue of young men, including Tocla. They were in celebratory mood.

“Hatutakubali huyo mtu kama Headmaster,” Nyayo said. “Headmaster tunajua ni Bensouda,” he went on, ordering bottle after bottle. I ordered my drink and went to sit far from them, but Nyayo came were I was seated. He thanked me for supporting Bensouda by not accepting the new HM.

NO CALCULATOR

“Nimeambia Hitler nitalipa pombe yako yote,” he told me then left. I needed no calculator to know where Nyayo had got financing from.

I arrived home very late that evening, to find a fuming Fiolina.

“Where are you from this late?” she asked as soon as I arrived.  “Na unajua niko pekee yangu hapa? unataka nisurvive aje?” I did not say anything.

“Tulikuwa staff meeting,” I told her.

“Na umetoka kwa Hitler?” she asked me, as soon as I opened my mouth. “Staff meeting gani hii inaisha usiku?” her mood had changed completely. “Umesahau uko na mtoto mdogo?” she asked, “Unataka Sospeter alewe maisha yake yote?” she continued putting Sospeter on bed and pushing me out of the bedroom.

“Hutalala hapa kama umelewa.” I went to Branton’s room and she would send me an SMS whenever she wanted something. Whenever I took her whatever she wanted, she would open the bedroom just to create space to receive whatever she wanted.

It was a long night; sleeping in a different room from my loved ones. It was more painful hearing Sospeter cry, yet I could not be allowed to go help – as Fiolina said I couldn’t be next to the baby when drunk.

I was in school early the next day. And went through the routines of ensuring all was well. I decided to move around just to ensure all teachers were teaching.

I had not finished the round when I heard the sound of a car and noises coming from the gate. When I checked, I saw Bensouda’s car drive in slowly, followed by youths led by Nyayo, carrying twigs and placards, singing and chanting welcoming Bensouda back.

SINGING AND DANCING

She was driven up to near her office and the youths escorted her singing and dancing. Classes were disrupted and some pupils joined in the celebrations. Luckily, I had left the office in good shape. Only Nyayo followed her to her office, and left a few minutes later. The rest of the people followed him to the gate where they huddled together. No calculator was needed to know what was happening.

Bensouda immediately called for a staff meeting.

“I am back!” she announced. “I missed you guys. And I am happy to see that you all missed me going by the reception I was accorded?” Everyone said they had missed her, including Agrippa, the new teacher who’d never met her!

“Who are you three? she asked, pointing to the new teachers. They introduced themselves. She said she didn’t have much and once everyone had talked, she called off the meeting. She left immediately saying she had some business at the county education office.

DISAPPOINTMENT

There was disappointment all over the staffroom at the prospect of Bensouda returning. “This mama should now go we get fresh blood,” said Nzomo. She wasn’t aware I was in the staffroom, and apologised profusely on seeing me. I told her not to worry.

“Huyu amekuwa Mugabe,” said Saphire adding “Anataka akae hapa mpaka azeeke na afukuzwe. But let her ask Mugabe, one day she will go in a shameful manner.”

And like that, the name of the HM changed from Bensouda to Madam Mugabe – in recognition of her long stay in the school. Meanwhile, I need to adapt to my new life once more as the deputy of this school.

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