CULTIVATE THE GOOD LAND.

CULTIVATE THE GOOD LAND 

My mind just went back in time to 17 years ago when my class English teacher;  one of the best there was at that time made a remark about me during a review session of our English language mock examination in preparedness for the main examination billed for a few weeks. She took her time to go through the steps that would ensure that we were well positioned for distinctions.  We had separate teachers for each class during our senior years and for the final exams;  it seemed each teacher sought to outshine the others by ensuring that more of their students passed the examination and better still with distinctions. This relatively healthy competition obviously pushed the teachers who were the best of the best to spur their wards to aim higher which was the reason why my class teacher decided to go all motivational in the aftermath of her very fruitful teaching session. 

Miss Otr praised those who had topped the class based on the mock exam results.  A few of them had parents who were her colleagues. She charged them to do her proud and then told the class that she was sure they would deliver. She then went on to mention the fellow who had surprised her the most;  enough to have come in 6th and up two places from the previous term.  That fellow beamed with pleasure and the joy on his face could not be masked;  it was a moment of glory.  She went on and on till she appeared to more or less dismiss the chances of those who were the relegation battlers.

The class ended and we started to drift into our usual noisy state when Mayowa who was seated behind me plunged a huge blade into my swollen head.  He asked me if I thought Miss Otr's remark was actually a compliment and it got me really thinking.  Surprising the class teacher actually meant that she was never really expecting much from me in the first place and even a 6th position in class must have been a tremendous fluke.  My mind raced to an encounter with her a few weeks prior. She called my name out of the blue and asked me to see her after the class.  She seemed worried and asked if I had done anything really bad in the hostel and I responded in the negative.  She simply bobbed her head like she usually did and that was it.  

I was a dormitory prefect and the 20naira dues paid by every boy upon resumption into the hostel was stolen from my wardrobe where I thought it was safe.  I promptly informed the house master Mr Uk who I thought would be reasonable but he ensured that every kobo was paid from whatever money I had. Our relationship degenerated over time and I think he must have been the one initiating hostel happenings in the staff room which my unfortunate English teacher never bothered to investigate.  There was a major falling out shortly after one morning in the SS3 boys hostel when I stood up to Mr Uk for treating me unfairly.  The event of that morning endeared me to many of my mates but also got me explaining myself before the vice principal Mr  Odun. 

I was really upset at the reality of being described as a surprise act.  I really did think that Miss Otr was an outstanding teacher who helped me a great deal in improving in the subject.  My first year as a senior was for the most part a struggle in coping with the technicalities of learning English without the literature we were used to in junior years. One of the best women to have ever taught me took over the subject during the next year.  I always felt as if Mrs Ediale was teaching only one individual during her lessons.  The things I had struggled with were now past tense and Miss Otr only came to consolidate on that and make the language easier to grasp. 

Generally,  it was hardly about academic domination for my classmates.  We wanted to do well but we had come to the point where we knew that respect for one another superceded any reward or plaque.  We understood that positions and prizes were not a measure of intellect,  talent or any acquired skill. Some of the teachers always wanted to select favourites based on one criterion or the other.  They made it apparent that they disliked certain individuals irrespective of whatsoever effort they put in their studies.  Sadly this caste system still prevails and distorts our education, religion,  culture and politics. 

I attended a federal government college where despite all odds and imperfections;  Aliyu and Chuka have been able to see the good in each other despite their many differences.  Moji and Nneka are still able to talk freely with themselves even after 17 years and when we storm weddings together many ask under their breath what the ties that bind us are.  

Some of our teachers tried to promote their idiosyncracies but we resisted. I remember the prefects collectively standing with Okechukwu when a house master played a tribal card with him. We overcame tribalism and our religious differences were never a problem.  I remember the day a labour prefect thought to spite us by allocating a seemingly very difficult area of really ugly grass to clear.  The mistake he made was to have brought machetes for us to use; he did not realised we had very skilled lads in Julius and Amobi.  He must have thought we would spend the entire day groaning in that field under the sun;  I am not sure if we spent more than 30 mins all because we were united. We went about our hostel duties singing and drumming especially to songs composed by Michael and a few others;  we prayed,  we played and we also fought.

I learnt respect from my peers; I learnt how to do what was right even if it meant getting "waylayed" or just threatened.  Niyi had been winning all his combats and he threatened to bash little me if I did not assist him during the physics practical exam.  I stood my ground and chose not to compromise;  I waited in vain for Niyi to carry out his threat thereafter. 

Nigeria is heading for a cliff and some people are urging us to keep the driver in place while they also threaten us with war if we fail to comply.  It may not be obvious what Nigeria has offered us as our country but at least we have the ground on which we stand.  We owe this nation the duty to treat ourselves as equals irrespective of tribe,  tongue and God. We must reach across boundaries,  beyond the half truths our Fathers are prophesying to recognize that we have a chance to halt the rot and change the driver. It is high time we focused on the good in each other so that our children will not continue this unending fight. This is a good land,  a very good one which only needs cultivating instead of the blood stains. 

Four of us in the entire set had the highest grade in English language that year and the surprise act was the only one from Miss Otr's class.  I saw her shortly after results were out and made my way to greet and acknowledge her.  She however just simply walked past me with her nose reaching for the moon and half heartedly muttering a "good afternoon". She sowed and watered a seed in me and many others;  she did very well for me and I do not condemn her.  Those who ensured we had such quality teachers 17 years ago may not have known what they did.  We are unfortunately reaping emptiness from unploughed fields at the moment and worse still our first lady now declares on national television that stoning is now a sport and it is great fun to call a decent man brain dead during an unrated broadcast. 

If you think these are not enough grounds to effect change then you must need an emergency borehole.