Chapter 2: Petition and WhatsApp Fire

Dem report me:

The matter no end for ordinary complaint. All the parents for the class join hand accuse me say I no get responsibility, say make school remove me as homeroom teacher sharp-sharp, even collect my maths teaching qualification join.

E shock me well. For my mind, na real ganging up. Dem submit petition, sign am, even add small warning letter join, as if na police case.

When principal tell me, e be like thunder strike me:

The office cold, na only me and am. She just drop the paper for my front, shake head like person wey pity goat. I for swear say I hear my heart dey beat loud. My fingers tremble as I try read the letter. God, na only you know my heart.

Since I take over this class, I don pour my whole body and soul, tire myself, always put students first, almost give them my heart join.

I dey buy chalk with my own money, dey stay extra after closing, dey call pikin wey sick for house, sometimes even follow dem go school clinic. I no dey joke with my work.

Now, na irresponsibility dem dey call am.

See wahala! Person dey try, na insult dem dey pay am.

“The parents for your class no dey gree at all. Dem even talk say if school no do wetin dem want, dem go report am reach Education Board.”

Principal voice low, but she dey serious. Na the kind threat wey fit shake any private school.

My face just hard.

I bone face, try make tears no show. For my mind, I dey calculate wetin I go do next.

Principal look me well: “Teacher Yetunde, wetin you suppose do now na to check yourself. If you no get any wahala, why all the parents go join report you?”

I look her, my throat dry. I wan talk say e no fair, but the words no come out.

I no believe am.

How person fit just carry all blame put for my head like that?

How e come be my fault?

I dey ask myself, "Na my sickness I suppose beg for? If I die, who go teach dem?"

I wan talk back, but principal just wave hand like say, abeg, shift:

She no even let me explain, just turn face waka, "Okay, go wait for school decision."

As I dey waka commot principal office, the more I think am, the more e dey pain me.

My leg dey heavy as I waka pass staff room. E be like say ground wan swallow me. Na so some teachers dey look me, some pretend say dem no see me. Madam Ojo just squeeze my hand small, whisper, "No mind dem, Yetunde. Na so parents dey."

At last, I no fit hold am again, I drop message for class WhatsApp group:

I carry my phone, type with hand wey dey shake: “Dear parents, since I become homeroom teacher, I always put class first. I no go talk say I don give everything, but I dey try my best. If you feel say I miss anything, abeg talk to me direct. All these kind false accusation and misunderstanding dey really break teacher spirit.”

Na my heart I pour inside that message, hope say person go understand.

Small time, message land:

Chinonso mama: “Misunderstanding? How we go wrong you? Homeroom teacher wey dey go hospital every few days—e make sense? Who give you that right? Who give you that freedom? How you wan focus on students like that? Final year last semester na very serious time. Abeg, you go kpai if you no see doctor one weekend? Na so e serious?”

Her message long sotay if you see am, you go think say na memo. I just weak.

All the questions just land me one by one. I no even know wetin to talk.

I read the message like three times, my body cold. My hand dey shake as I hold phone.