The Fall

We played in the garden after school everyday. I really enjoyed being outdoors and did everything from climbing trees to riding bikes. I believe it was a sunny Wednesday afternoon, that is when our home teacher Mr. Mensah screeched his noisy motorbike through the  driveway.

I always had my exercise books tidily laid out on the table under the thatched, ‘summer’ hut. The dusty blackboard was also positioned against one of the wobbly pillars. My half-chewed pencil was parked tidily beside my book, ready for my lesson. 

That gave me the opportunity to play for a few more minutes before the long, drawn lesson. Mr. Mensah was a stout, soft-spoken, conscientious teacher. He never arrived late and was very organized. His plan for the two hours was the same each Wednesday: note taking, memorizing facts and many practice questions. 

I was not the only student so it felt just like school all over again. My cousins J and A who were in the same class at our Elementary school always joined me, so did R, my sister, who was a year after us. I must have been almost nine years old.

As soon as the screech came to a stop, I ran towards the slide to get my last round. I tripped really badly, fell on my back and scraped my body against the metal handle. 

“Wooo, wooo, wooo,” I bawled! All the little legs ran towards me, causing the dust from the dry ground to surround us in a haze. They grabbed my arms and lifted me gently up the stairs to the main door of the house. I helped them out by dragging myself up. They placed me on the huge sofa and called Auntie.

I lifted my head slowly to see them all rush outside for the lesson. I smiled sneakily! I had escaped the day’s session.

Hidden Talent

She opened the book with her delicate hands, her fingers as thin as pens, seemed fragile as she confidently spoke whilst leafing through her book. Her audience were enchanted.

This, she had created by herself, at home. An accordion book that had doors she could open and windows she could see through. She gently took us on a journey to discover her hidden talent. Very impressed we all applauded, silently.

As she looked up, she noticed we were all awed by her creation. Faces in rectangles on the screen.

How swiftly one’s impression of another changes.

This continues to be a lesson to me, as a teacher of many years. I still need these reminders to seek the hidden strength of my students. This was our sharing opportunity when students book a slot to present a creation or talent.

In class, young lady was always quiet and shy, therefore did not volunteer her words, until called. Presenting her creation to the whole grade level must have been daunting for her, but she performed so eloquently and impressed us all both with her words and her handicraft.