A MATHEMATICS TEACHER ADVENTURE Read Count : 90

Category : Stories

Sub Category : Drama
THE ADVENTURE OF 
A MATHEMATICS 
TEACHER 



Copyright: Taonga
 Transistor 
Mushaurwa 

0783682002

The 
Story
..........


I have come to Binga  to reside after Secondary School. I heard from people that came back from the Region  about the myriad of opportunities there. This is because the inhabitants were uneducated and could not do these white-collar-jobs.

I arrived and got a one room apartment in the Taru street . I was also told that life is simple and things cheap in the region . After a day, I neatly got dressed in a plain trouser, tucked the white shirt with blue stripes in. The tie I wore was as long as a horse's penis which responded to the whirlwind of Binga. The buttons are all glittering; in fact, they were shining like the blazing sun of Chiredzi.

I have packaged my Curriculum Vitae,Chem eng National  Diploma  Result and an Application Letter I have copied from the online. Do I know anything like plagiarism? This  Result I managed to pass from one of the Miracle Centers in Masvingo. Made an A1 in mathematics. I got to the main road, flagged down an Muchovha  man  (bike  driver ). The bike was even as the same height as I was. I wonder how one climbs this mountain of Deru in form of bike.

'Please, can you take me to a nearby private secondary school?' I said to him.

'No get English,' he replied gazing at me to speak Chishangwe .

'khuluma  ndebele  or Venda,' I said. I was very quick to learn that the first day I arrived.

I walked to a young man who stood, arms crossed across his chest, asked him if he understands English. He nodded in affirmation. I heaved a heavy sigh of relief. I took him to the Achaba man(As Nigirians say) , he then interpreted.

Soon enough, we arrived to a beautiful private school painted blue. The gate man only understood the principal from the whole sentences from my mouth. In this part of the country, English language is not recognized.

I got into the principal's office who requested for my credentials. He took a cursory glance at them as he flipped from paper to paper.

'Wow!' he shouted. 'You must be a genius in mathematics?' he said giving me a befitting smile.

'Yes,' I said with a deceptive smile.

'You're going to take the students on mathematics then,' he concluded.

I had no option than to accept the offer. I started school the next day as a reputable mathematics teacher. I walked into a form 3 Class. It's pertinent to recall that while in the Masvingo city , I learnt that the Binga citizens are academically bankrupt, that's to say, the White's man education is not for them.

My first day in class, we solved about eight mathematics equations. I proved the answers from the textbooks wrong. The students were struck by amazement at my mastery of this subject. I was happy that none of them could stand to prove me wrong. I taught wrong equations with the utmost alacrity and courage.

I have stayed in this school for three weeks or thereabouts. One day, I gave the students an assignment. They were form 2 students. They submitted the assignment hopping they obtain a good mark from me. Their answers were not the same with the ones I got, I cancelled all.

That afternoon, I was in the staff room with the other teachers. I sat solving a mathematics question from the textbook. The office was very hot from the blazing sun of Chiredzi. This sun can roast out the skin from the bony skeleton. I shouted on top of my voice,

'Oh! The answers in this text are all wrong.'

My fellow teachers were all amazed as they gazed at me in awed, shaking their heads at the level I knew mathematics.

I was still solving while I was disturbed by a thunderous voice that roared at the door-mouth. The echoe from the voice cracks a wall and leaves holes on it.

'Who's that mathematics teacher?' the voice barked.

I stood from my seat, made my way to the door to see the person that spoke to the erudite mathematician in that boldness. I came out, aghast at the sight because the owner of the voice was smaller than I was. Very close to the earth. This sexagenarian was almost dark to a charcoal point. He could look-at-a-sky-length while looking at me. I was just average in height. What if  Tonderai Nhamo, the iroko   of the school was the one? He'd need a ladder for communication.

'Are you the mathematics teacher?' he yelled at me, pointing his dark-skinned-finger at me. Of a truth, he was blue on the face and boils like a jollof rice.

'Yes, and what do you want?' I replied courageously.

He flipped through the pages of the exercise book he held, asked why I gave his son zero when he got the answers to the questions right. I was flabbergasted, demanded to know what gave him the impetus, the audacity and the courage to come to me with that cock and bull story. Perhaps, I learnt the Bingas are all illitrates.

'Tell me, did you see the four walls of education let alone studying mathematics to know a wrong answer when you see one,' I said.

Professor,  John Tafirei Moyo had studied mathematics in a prestigious institution, Stanford University and graduated the best. Did his master's and Doctorate degree in the same school under scholarship. He had won many internationally recognized awards in mathematics. The Dean, Faculty of Science, Federal University Midlands . I have just looked down on him as an ordinary  Tsaga.

Where will I find myself in the next few minutes? That's is left for you to brainstorm. Its not over  yet for the night is still young. Remember in such community everything  is possible but it demands real captains to take the trophy home safe.

Yes l have managed to brainwash this  almost to the ground  sucker but the puzzle still stand as a  mystery. "I'm a goner if this plan doesn't work", l muttered . Furiously "Fuza," l hissed . Staggering  like  a drunken man as the  whole staff was  starring at me. 

May be this was a red castigation for my hypocrisy. The genius mathematics teacher l parade myself to be was on the verge of collapse. This Fuza was my worst nightmare ever but remember l am in the zone of the illiterates and a little emotional  act was the only desperate move to serve the king ( check mate).

Miraculously, the school  and its staff perfectly  buy my story and l was safe for the moment. Those ambiguous vocabularies  l uttered to that sucker scared the shit out of the whole staff.  My smart move  left them with no choice but to blame that poor parent while so  blindly  rescuing the real perpetrator. A free  bird l was, enjoying my glory flying above the blue sky.

The  exclusive  mathematics teacher at the  campus l am now. The community  now crowned  me the professor for l am the most great fluent English Guru and becouse  of those ambiguous  vocabularies  l confuse their dump minds.  L am enjoying  the great mathematics teacher moment. Both the stuff and the principle  are still trapped inside that hypocrisy. 

It all  began to turn upside down that  dark day as the new biology teacher from Harare was introduced  at my school.  Pythagoras theorem was my present lecture, one of the claimed smartest students standing at that blackboard when my judgment  moment approached my nerves. The harare devil stepped  into my class found himself a perfect comfort on one of my favorite spot as he analyse my lecture.

Dashing out a scornful smile he  genlty  he uttered "Sir it looks like your flock is struggling somewhere can you serve our precious time and help with one example or  maybe two."  Staggered in disbelief, like Zoes thunder strick my face for a second l feel so numb. "This guy is trouble ,ohh shit l am doomed" l  muttered, walking torwads my premature  grave.  This new  Harare teacher was in my lecture on a secret mission, that  l was suspecting too and my instincts advice me he was trouble . Remember this one was not part of those illiteracy Bingas that l coul deceive with my fake plays, to smart for such barbarian games he was truly   a very smart and intelligent city boy. So it didn't take him more  three days to calculate my once perfect cover and his was now about to pin my soul in that bottomless pit.  Trapped in that cage of my hypocrisy, like a man on drugs it feels like a deep hallucination.

Everything upside down an enermy of myself , hot like hell l felt the magma flame depriving my evry single nerve. A lion roar, horror was that one  equation tabulated on that black board and no doubt this as finally  my  extinction becouse mathematics was never a good freind of mine. It was all becouse  of that  flying "A"color in Mathematics  the principle buy my programmed act. 

So eager to know, the location l discover myself next after this mystery designed by the devil Harare city boy. Just keep calm  for the the horrible night is still young , may be , thus  if l am still free to hold this pen and tabulate the story on this Red diary again for the crime is just another act of treason. For now, the how puzzle is pledged in your hands  to brainstorm, while  l figure out my next move remember  l am on checkmate now and any silly move the king is nowhere to be found. 



by Taonga transistor 

Aka the Dreamer 





Comments

  • super

    May 21, 2020

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