In new trouble with Fiolina over Nzomo

Although teachers were supposed to be on strike from Monday, on Sunday evening, I received an SMS from Bensouda, our female headmistress, telling me to go to school. “I am away for a conference centre in Nairobi. Take charge of the school.” the SMS read.

When I replied to her saying that our “president” Sossion had not given us the go-ahead to go back to school, she wrote back saying that I was not just a teacher but a school administrator and advised me not to behave like common teachers.

So come last Monday and I was the first one to arrive at school. Before I left the house, Fiolina prepared for me a sumptuous breakfast: tea and boiled eggs. This was in line with our new food timetable that we agreed upon last week and which Fiolina has been observing to the letter.

“I will be going to Mosoriot later so I need to take good care of you before I leave,” she said. I thanked her as we took breakfast together with Branton. Branton had never eaten boiled eggs and had I not stopped him, he would have eaten everything including the shell. The last time Fiolina had prepared breakfast for me before I went to work was during our first week of marriage. Actually the first two days of our marriage.

“Good day hurby, I have a surprise for you today,” she sent me a text that I received as soon as I arrived at school.

There were only about 20 students when I arrived. Sellah, Nzomo, and Kuya would arrive later and we spent the better part of the morning discussing the salary increment. Kuya had carried a full schedule of the payments: how every group’s salary would move up, the arrears to be paid, the new salary and how the salary will be in the next three years.

“Until I see money in the bank I can’t believe it,” said Sellah.

While it looked like some good money, it was not what I had expected. Mr Maina, our shopkeeper, had told me that since we were receiving a 50 per cent increment backdated to the last two years, we would be receiving about one year’s pay to cover the arrears at one go. The schedule that Kuya had was far from this. Two teachers arrived later but left shortly after.

INSURANCE POLICIES

We received a guest to the staffroom who introduced himself as a salesman from an insurance firm. He was selling policies. Given my experience with insurance policies, I did not even discuss anything with him, but he managed to convince Nzomo to take out a policy  with the increment she would receive.

I called for a short staff meeting but Kuya told me that we could only have an informal session but not a staff meeting.

“Schools are on strike, I just came to see what is happening here,” he added. I then showed him that according to the school rota we had prepared last term he was on duty the first week.

“I know but this is not even the first week, the first week will be when schools officially open,” he said.

“If you don’t want, let me be the one on duty this week,” said Sellah. “With no much activity around I would like to be on duty this week.”

“On second thought let me do it,” he said, then called for school parade. He did not even invite us teachers for the parade. I was still preparing to go and address the students but the students were quickly dismissed.

I could hear the students cheer loudly and they walked to the classes, took their bags and started leaving. I called one of them to ask him where they were going. He told me that Kuya had told them to go home until the strike ends. By this time, Kuya and Sellah had already left school and so when I called him, he said he had acted in the interest of everyone.

“Let them go home and assist their parents with work rather them sitting here and doing nothing,” said.

But interestingly, he had told Bensouda that I was the one who directed him to close school early and she called me immediately after the students had left. “Even if there is a strike, we should have let those who want to be in school stay around until they get tired,” she said. She would not listen to my protestations that the students were sent away by Kuya.

“Who is the deputy HM?” she asked me. “You are the one in charge, how did you let that happen?”

Only Nzomo and I stayed behind. We sat under the mango tree outside the staffroom for about an hour.

“Since I came to school today, let me work on my schemes of work and lesson plans today so that even if I don’t come again this week, everything will be ready when we report back once we are paid,” she said.

I also had lots of work to do and so we went and sat in my office.

There were heavy winds at the time that kept sending dust to my office so to avoid this interruption, we closed the window fully and also the door although not fully – and then immersed ourselves in work.

This took me way back to last year when Nzomo liked sitting in my office and work from there. The good days before Kuya and Sellah arrived and spoiled everything. I must actually admit that I may not be sure whether Nzomo was working but as for me, I was looking at her most of the time.  Time was moving fast and before long it was well past noon.

“Will you go for lunch?” I asked her.

“I will work and then leave after lunch,” she said, then continued to work. A few minutes later, she packed her books and we started talking. We were so engrossed in talking that we did not notice that someone was almost at the office and was pushing the door as she said: “Hodi hapa”

LUNCH SURPRISE

It was Fiolina, with Branton in tow. Fiolina was carrying two tins of food while Branton was carrying a small jerican of water.

She then pushed the door open and got in. “I told you I will surprise you today,” happily said Fiolina, placing the tins on the table. Then she saw Nzomo. Her face changed immediately. “Haki ya Mungu! Mpaka mkafunga mlango na dirisha!” Nzomo tried to greet her but she did not answer. She looked at Branton and said. “Wacha turudi nyumbani,” and they left.

“So you have a wife and a son?” was all Nzomo said after she had left. “Why have you never told me?” Once Fiolina and Branton had disappeared, Nzomo quickly left as well.

My mind was on the food and I attacked the food – chapati ndengu - with zeal. She had packed five chapatis and I cleared all of them. Half an hour later, I received an SMS from Fiolina. “You were lacky I was with Branton. Leo kingeumana. This is what I get for being good?”

We are back to not talking to each other again. The only difference is that this time round, although Fiolina does not talk to me, she prepares my meals, washes and irons my clothes, and warms my bathing water diligently every day. I can live with that!