I
There goes my teacher,
The one who brought us up by hand,
His steps are as sure as Afadjato
And his movements as graceful as an eagle’s.
There he goes with his wonderful books
Smiling brightly and ready to serve.
II
There goes my teacher,
The mastermind,
His body beams radiant energy
And his mind floods with amazing knowledge.
There he goes, his chalk ever ready,
To the classroom
Where eager students await his impacting lessons.
III
There goes my teacher,
His ways much like the resolute farmer
Who patiently tends fertile and non-fertile soil alike.
He strives to enrich them with his wit and craft,
And plants the seeds that’ll surely bloom.
IV
There goes my teacher,
The skillful builder and master smith
Whose hardwork restores the nation’s hopes.
There he goes laying bricks of discipline
Bonded together with the mortar of correction.
His sweat truly forges us
Into men and women of integrity.
V
There goes my teacher,
The humble one, the suffering one
Whose back is as solid as a mountain
Never aching for a minute.
There he goes lowering himself like steps
In great sacrifice, while others climb to glory.
VI
There goes my teacher
The most disdained of all workers.
Yea, foolish youth call him “common chalk holder”
Yet his chalk builds their future,
Each stroke lays one more brick.
VII
There goes my teacher
Though great yet a beggar
He begs not for favour or for waiver
only for some of life’s little comforts:
a roof over the family’s head
good food to keep body and soul in one piece
good education for the children’s tomorrow
four wheels to get around with ease
smashing bright kente for Sunday service
a trip or two to cheer the family
and enough to put away against retirement.
My teacher demands not paradise, not even heaven
Just enough comfort to live here on earth
VIII
There goes my teacher,
My good old teacher
His graceful steps now eroded
by years of overwork and depressing pittance
Injustice now stares him blankly in the face
As the grave speedily beckons
There he goes full of the misery
That scares the young from ever holding chalk
Empty classrooms will soon foretell
The first signs of national gloom and doom
So apt in its descriptions. I wonder if those this is meant to would read it.But it is equally important that we read it so that when the chance comes for us to influence policies we shall know exactly what to do. I tell you that what you prognosticates would one day come to pass. It would come to pass when people would ran away from the classroom and would choose trading or any other work ahead of teaching.
ReplyDeleteI love the use of the refrain 'There goes my teacher'. It creates an image in one minds. I also love the gradual decline into mess, if I should say so. Beginning from respect to destitution. In so doing it traces the social status of teachers across time. From the periods when they were the only educated ones who read letters of importance, to today where people are afraid of the profession; where to tell someone he/she would be a teacher is akin to cursing the individual, which may, if care is not taken, would result in a counter-curse. But definitely the recipient of such would tell you 'apeetooo', or 'over my dead body'. They would refute the idea of teaching.
Lovely piece.
I am humbled by your generous admiration, NFA. It means a lot to me because it comes from a prolific writer, one who has seen a lot.
ReplyDeleteYour review poignantly captures the emotions and movements I was going through during the process of writing. I hope the powers that be will see reflections such as this as the indicator to act quickly and improve the lot of they who nourish our minds with knowledge.
Thanks brother.
This is touching. The Ghanaian teacher's heart-wrenching plight will keep many otherwise good-natured and willing youth from the the profession--a big shame.
ReplyDeleteTrue @Bafoo. Thanks for reading and commenting.
ReplyDeleteon Point Mr Gameli! You are marvelous, GOD bless u :)
ReplyDeleteThanks @Anon
ReplyDelete