Chapter 4: Hunger and Insult

My blood pressure just rise.

If you see as my hand dey shake, you go know say my head don hot.

That time, I nearly burst.

For my mind, I dey ask, “This people sabi wetin dey worry me so?”

Yes, homeroom teacher dey get small money pass subject teachers.

Na small change, no even fit buy one Ankara wrapper for market.

One thousand naira per term.

Imagine! Na so e small reach. Person dey slave, dem dey call am bonus.

You fit believe?

Dem no go believe say na hunger I dey manage, all because of children.

I dey wake before cock crow, sleep when even night guard don tire.

Sometimes, na when cock crow I dey close eye. Na so I dey work.

Seventeen, eighteen hours for school everyday, meeting no dey finish, class matter no dey end, paper work and parent wahala, weekend and holiday report dey every time.

Even for family gathering, my phone dey vibrate for table. Person no dey get rest at all.

Phone dey on 24/7, ready to answer any emergency.

My husband dey complain, but I dey tell am say e go soon finish.

To talk am straight, homeroom teacher work na ten times wetin normal teacher dey do.

If you see the kind stress, you go pity.

You think say na that extra one thousand naira I dey kill myself for?

I dey reason am, sometimes I wan just drop everything.

E worth am?

If dem see how I dey buy lesson material with my money, dem for shut up.

The parents no gree rest for group:

Dem just dey pour insult anyhow. Person wey I help last term dey shout pass everybody.

“Homeroom teacher dey get better pay, dey get more chance for award and bonus. Plenty benefit dey.”

One mama even mention say na me dey collect all the award for end of year.

“No wonder you no wan leave the work even when you sick... Abeg, I no get talk.”

If only dem sabi say na stress I dey chop.

“If na money you dey find, no use our pikin do experiment. We no owe you anything!”

Another parent drop am, voice like thunder.

“Just commot abeg.”

Dem just want make I disappear.

I vex sotay I no fit talk.

I drop phone for bed, breathe in, tell myself say make I no curse person.

If na money I want, I for don commot since.

Na so I talk true. This work no dey pay reach my struggle.

One private school for the area even offer me double my salary to come, but I gently reject them.

I no wan leave these children for stranger, after everything wey we don start together.

Why?

Na because I get conscience. I dey see these pikin like my own.

No be for the students? For their precious children?

My own pikin small, but I dey treat their own like family.

Teacher Sani, our English teacher, no fit hold am again:

She just type for group, “Teacher Yetunde dey work even when e dey sick because of the students. Instead make una appreciate am, una dey talk anyhow? The students results no dey show?”

I smile small, na the first person wey talk sense that day.

For the two years wey I carry this class, class wey dey last before, now na first for the grade.

The record dey for school notice board—nobody fit lie for result.

Na fact be that.

Nobody challenge am. E clear pass daylight.

Group quiet small.

E be like say dem pause to reason am.

Then one parent talk: “Na because the children dey work hard. E no matter who be teacher—e no concern you.”

See life? I just shake head. Na dem dey push credit go pikin.

Others follow reply:

“Yes now, my pikin dey read reach midnight everyday. With that kind effort, e result no fit bad.”

Everybody dey drag who pikin dey read pass. Nobody dey mention teacher.

“My daughter don do practice book sotay e high pass am.”

As if say na by practice book alone.

“You sabi take credit sha.”

Na so. Person no fit win for their hand.