Fierce fights forced Bensouda to ban our mandazi and lunch clubs

When Bensouda was reinstated to this school as HM, I did not join those who celebrated this. ILLUSTRATION| JOHN NYAGAH

What you need to know:

  • The first day of her return, she briefly talked to us on what was expected and left.
  • It wasn’t until last Wednesday that she returned to a very noisy staffroom. Anindo, who was recently hired to prepare meals for teachers, had realised a great business opportunity.
  • She just did not prepare tea but accompnied it with some mandazi and kangumu. It was something we all looked forward to at tea break.

When Bensouda was reinstated to this school as HM, I did not join those who celebrated this. As you know, all those who celebrated did it for different reasons. The villagers never actually celebrated – they were just paid to make noise. As for my colleagues, although they did not like Bensouda very much, for some reasons, they envy me, and many of them fear that despite being younger than them - I am younger that Kuya, Madam Ruth, Lena and Mrs Atika – I was just about to be their boss.

But I was not very worried, for I knew that as usual, she would be a visiting head, coming in once a week and then disappearing. And she did exactly that.

The first day of her return, she briefly talked to us on what was expected and left. It wasn’t until last Wednesday that she returned to a very noisy staffroom. Anindo, who was recently hired to prepare meals for teachers, had realised a great business opportunity. She just did not prepare tea but accompnied it with some mandazi and kangumu. It was something we all looked forward to at tea break.

Indeed as soon as the bell for tea break rang, teachers would rush from the staffroom because one had to literally fight to get their mandazi or kangumu.

Initially, Anindo used to prepare plenty, but she ran into problems as she had to give most on credit. Not anymore. Now she prepares very little; for cash only. On that Wednesday, she brought very few kangumu in the staffroom. Her calculation must have been that since most teachers were away and with three new teachers underpaid, there weren’t many people to buy from her. But for some reason, people had money. I took my tea but when I ordered for kangumu, I was told they were over.

“Wacha mchezo Anindo, tunataka haki yetu,” I said.

“Zimeisha,” she said.

“Sikujua walimu wamelipwa,” she said apologising. Nzomo arrived in the staffroom a few minutes after Anindo had left. She poured her tea and then went to her desk, but would be making noise shortly after.

“Nani amechukua kangumu zangu?” she asked. With no one admitting, she called Anindo who said that she had placed Nzomo’s share at her desk. Nzomo loudly complained, assisted by Kuya, her acting boyfriend.

“Poleni lakini mnataka kuua watu juu ya kangumu!” commented Saphire eliciting laughter from everyone.

“Don’t talk like that you mhuni,” answered Nzomo. “You don’t know how much my baby loves them?”

“Umeita nani mhuni?” Saphire  asked, heading towards Nzomo. Kuya moved to block him. It was at this moment that Bensouda arrived, and everyone went quiet.

“What is not happening here?” she asked.

“Nothing,” said Nzomo, quickly supported by Saphire, who said they were just friendly jokes.

“These cannot be jokes!” she said. “I have heard the noise from far. Even students can’t concentrate in class because of your noise.” An unwritten rule in our staffroom is that no teacher accuses another before Bensouda, .

“What is your name,” Bensouda asked one of the new teachers.

“Atlas,” he said.

“Athnas what is the issue here?” she asked in an intimidating voice.

“I said my name is Atlas madam,” he answered timidly.

“Whatever the name is, what is the problem.”

“Saphire and Nzomo were fighting over mandazi,” he said.

“Call Anindo,” sh ordered after she was told the mandazis were sold by Anindo.

“I have had enough problems with these mandazis from both students and even teachers,” she said.

“Usiwahi uza mandazi kwa hii shule!” she told Anindo who was too intimidated to say anything.

As expected, Bensouda left school a few minutes before lunch time. From past history, rarely does she come to school twice a week. So come Thursday, some teachers managed to sneak in Anindo’s mandazi and kangumu.

We all went back to class, everyone eagerly waiting for lunch. It was Thursday, the big day for Chapati, rice and matumbo. We had not enjoyed such a delicacy in a long time because teachers did not have money. A few teachers had paid upon receiving their salary and we agreed to start the programme immediately. As the acting headmaster, I had, two weeks earlier, made an executive order to pay, from the school coffers, lunch club fees for the three new teachers. Of course that meant that I personally do not pay. We were all in the staffroom in time for lunch. Anindo walked in with the large bowl of matumbo. And a few minutes later brought the long awaited chapati. There was a rush for the chapatis, especially the new teachers. By the time I got to the table, only one was remaining.

But some 20 minutes later, Kuya arrived. He had gone to town to withdraw his salary, and no one expected him to come to school. But here he was panting; an indication he was rushing for staffroom lunch.

“Wapi chapati zangu?” he asked on finding an empty chapati bowl.

“We didn’t know you will be coming.” I said.

Nzomo also arrived a few minutes later, no one knew where she was from. But bright I didnt need a calvulator to know she had been with Kuya in town. She too wasn’t happy.

“Yesterday I missed mandazi and today chapati,” she complained.

“But surely the two of you,” started Saphire after a brief silence. “Why couldn’t you have eaten at home? Or wherever you were?” 

“Look who is talking, yet you have never even paid for her lunch!” answered Kuya.

“If you go for your salary, you go join other teachers at Teachers Tavern for a proper meal,” said Saphire. “You don’t come to fight with BOG teachers over chapati…” This infuriated Nzomo who shouted back at Saphire, telling him to keep quite. Once again, Bensouda arrived as the two were spurring at each other.

“Is this a staffroom or a market?” she asked, shocking everyone. “What is it today?” For the first time neither Saphire nor Nzomo protected one other, they told the boss the source of the quarrel.

“I can’t believe food is bringing chaos in this school,” she said. “For that reason, I have banned the lunch club as well as it is clear it is fanning anarchy here. From tomorrow we will all eat the usual ugali kunde, which we have never fought for on any day.” And, the lunch club was dead.

 

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