That Re Of Sunshine

Mongo ma Ndemi native on a journey called life. . .

July 6, 2014

Page from the teacher's diary

Playing happy feet with little miss sunshine 
"NEPA!" chorused the room of preschoolers as the TV screen showing Barney went off. Then the screaming began.

I was alone in the classroom with these little monsters, all the other teachers were at staff meeting. As I made to calm them down, I noticed the chief babbler, Anjola was missing. After getting them in their seats and colouring, my search for the missing child began.

"Anjie" I called out as I searched the lower cupboards and under the tables hoping to see her round animated face and short brown twists jump out at me. "Anjola" my jittery voice whispered as I stared door I had locked earlier. As I sank into one of the mini chairs, I text Mo: "I think I'm going to be fired, I just lost a kid".

"Princess open please" the class teacher Miss Rita called through the screen door. "What's wrong?" she asked when she saw the distraught look on my face.

"I can't find Anjola. I've looked everywhere".

"Up NEPA!" chorused the rats when the electricity came back on.

"Did you look behind the inner door?"

"What? No."

And I ran to look behind the door.

"Anjola"

"Eh" she said grinning from behind the door with her crayola smothered teeth.

"Don't say eh say Yes or Yes Miss Princess".

Usually I never lift the kids but I lifted this child and handed her to the matron at the door. "Please rinse her mouth" I said and snatch the left over crayon from her grubby little fingers.

Behind me I heard Miss Rita and the class one teacher laughing. "This ajebo girl wants to give herself a heart attack".

I stepped outside to catch my breath. These children always have it in for me. They find their way to the top shelf and hide items from my bag. They can make out when I'm meeting friends after work and always, I repeat always embellish my clothes with food stains or paint. Wearing clothes with sequin or beads are out of the question, the little 'Edward Scissorhands' will find a way to rip it apart. I wonder if they terrorise their parents the same way they terrorise me.

Memories of my first real job as a teacher's assistant in Lagos.

What's the worst job you've ever had? 

Giedré talks to me about hers. Watch below:



Time to share, tweet at me (@PrincessIre) or drop a comment below. What's the worst job you've ever had?
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