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I am not a fan of seeing people exchanging vows but the due to the fact that I sometimes never find it worthy watching miserable TV news that add onto my already fragile situation, I usually decide to watch something exotic. While the average Kenyan is miles away from having a wedding of sheer opulence and splendour, the fact that there is an avenue showcasing that people have gone to other levels means we can do our best to at the very least have a wedding that is standard and not exaggerated.
Sometimes
I usually ask myself the questions such as. "Will I ever marry now that
most of my male colleagues are bachelors? Will I ever achieve my dreams of liquidity to spend with abandon?
Will I ever cross to the plush suburb of the city in the sun and live in
tranquil and luxuriance life of grandeur free from the vexations and the beat up of life?"
Looking
at the bigger picture, I am wondering if I will be able to hold water in my
place of work. I have been completely attached to the profession albeit it giving me this meagre returns yet ideally I should be working on improving myself. I even have become if at all about even applying for jobs. Why should I by the way? But
am building the nation, aint a trainer and an educator supposed to do that?
Aint I reducing the vacuous space that has been filling the medulla
oblongata of most students? Never mind that scientifically medulla
oblongata is the organ in the brain concerned with body functions such
as breathing, heart rate and blood pressure.
Medicine
or science aside, since its Friday and men, I am like the brokest dude in town.
You see, everyone wants to hear of those people who are living large, those who
never eat mandazi and black coffee when its time for lunch that sells at a
paltry figure when I am feeling endowed since the other option is to forgo because of the
skyrocketing prices that seem untenable. Yet someone wanted to sell me what I spend less on more
than twice the amount in one of the downtown facilities that sell them to men
and women who are so gullible they offer themselves to be fleeced in broad daylight of
their hard earned shekels because man is susceptible to hunger when having money. Bulshit, I ordered a mandazi though and went to drink it with the cheap coffee on offer.
Hitherto,
I had never known that you could spend your whole life paper chasing those
certificates only to end up working in a place where the staff turnover is so
high you feel like you are slowly being swayed to join the fray. When you look
at the reality of life and what you had expected in life, they are two
different inverses especially if you are the progeny of a plebeian, you sometimes have to curtail your ambition in order just to survive. Later on you can rejuvenate your ambitions when things are looking promising. Sawa.
Sometimes
I usually feel like, 'Why am I wasting my time in a place where every colleague
thinks it is a place of respite before they can get that oomph place of succor in their career aspirations?' But when I want to give up and do my own things like blogging, web
designing, earning my diploma from Tuko works (which led me to Microsoft
Virtual Academy), I feel more fulfilled when I know I am contributing to
making the life of another person better.
We sometimes tell the stories of touts, like there was one who had a masters degree plying his trade on ngong road and he was very comfortable with what he takes home. Then there are the mandazi sellers in slums, or guards or those who sell eggs and smokies and take home a good figure at the end of the day. Or that guy who in Kiswahili is said to "burura rukwama". Though engaged in blue collar jobs, they survive and even enjoy. We concluded they sometimes take a better figure than a teacher.
There
are times when you feeling the pinch and know where the shoe hurts most. Chics
and dudes you were in the same class with in campus are doing more than three
or four times what the average employee earns where you sometimes spend so much time you forget about your blog. Aren't we told to sacrifice, aren't there
no jobs that when you find one that pays, you take it up hoping lady lack will
smile on you and wolalala, you will get a nice job. However, since it is only in speech and not in action about their promising salaries since they have never offered to take you to a a cool place or joint to really feel their societal worth, you sit down and mull that maybe just maybe, theirs is a real struggle. But they developed over time and mark you, they are living it if whatsapp and facebook pics are anything to go by (I liked so many pages on Facebook to help ostracize me from their petty class difference). On our part, we are surviving, I cant place my pics on social media due to reasons everyone knows. Noone is developed (read having excessive tissue layers tiered by the consumption of more than normal calories) among us.
In
the meantime, I feel the negative energy sometimes taking a toll on me (I kill it subconciously).
Sometimes I get bored to a point I never want to go to class, but when I really don't want
to go to class, I realize that the student pays and needs the knowledge as
much as I also need to deliver it under tight conditions. But you need to been an actor, those times when you are not feeling like doing something turn out to be the times when you get psyche. In fact ever since I became a teacher, I can sometimes
go to class and dictate off head because obviously I have read what I am to
teach and can even explain it complete with examples. That I wake up early enough is not in question. My system has even programmed itself to this new conditioning. Reminds me of the Pavlovian dogs.
However,
a colleague disappointed me too much, okay, in teaching, the pay is a
paltry figure you adopt survival skills to really cushion yourself against the vagaries of the imminent. In Nairobi, you can never survive on that pay without running into debts (which most are forced to go though). You need to come
up with other ways of hustling hard if indeed you want to ameliorate your
standards of living. When the colleague quit for reasons best known to him, I
felt like things were not right. I am strong, that I have come this far is not
a joke.
I
have also adopted this pseudo-serious look to appear professional so that
students never take me for granted or take advantage on me. I have come to realize that working
students, especially those in their thirties and forties are more easy to deal
with than those in their early twenties and late teen.
There is this older student
who wears a beanie cap but each time he sees me, he removes it before he greets me. Is
this not a sign of respect. You feel you are adding an impact even when someone does not recognize it.
Older
students even have courtesy. When they want to pick their phone, they
courteously do it. They respect you as much as you respect them. They actually
know that they should take education seriously because it give them skills and
makes them more professional not forgetting it offering a leeway toward better job prospects. But sadly, some cannot convincingly express
themselves. Still others are full of themselves and think you need to attend to
them like they are high school kids. Don't they know that in college as long as
you are given the cause outline, the tutor's job is to ensure you have the
material and cover the cause content of which most fail to achieve and end up giving out handouts instead? As a student, you need to take
initiative and go the extra mile of doing things on your own. That is a philosophy I think applies everywhere.
But
I have been a student, I know most students despise being tasked with the job
of creating their own notes and reading thoroughly because if you do not read
widely, you may find it tasking even to construct a simple sentence to convince
an individual in writing.
Then
I have this class of this former high school students who actually think that I
have no much to offer and they can do what they want. I am still giving them
what in insurance they call the grace period. I know their Achilles heel and
can use it to their disadvantage. Some act as if they own the world. But a time
will come when I will have my guns blazing and those who act pugnaciously and
think they are in still kids will taste the wrath of an offended teacher.
Anyway, I have realized more chics love being taught and they never are as obnoxious as dudes who one of my colleagues told me even have the audacity to ask him questions in sheng. He is the guy who is no more.
Looking
at the bigger picture, I know I deserve better. I wish I was in a more
challenging environment where even though you are working, you are specializing
each day in being a pro in the field of choice. The hours I spend reading
in the morning, the alarm that is by my bed that reminds me that I should be
helping students is a reminder that I can actually count that I am making a
positive impact.
But
a student offended me when he compared a colleague with me. Of course we can
never be the same. There are those people who are very social and easy going.
Lets just say, I have been more reserved. I long lost my witty side and adopted
meticulous flair. Which makes me think I am losing out on a lot. Some of these
students should know that people are sacrificing a lot because the materials
needed to give them the best they deserve are sometimes scarce you need to dig
deeper. And I will have to network a lot to get what I want.
I
read from a writer that the internet is not a good source of information as the
library and especially applies to books. The library is the epitome of knowledge, those
who spend most of their time with books may not be materially rich but they are
rich in terms of having knowledge and helping the world in solving perennial problems that lambaste it unceasingly. I am still seeking knowledge. I am now in
the same shoes my former lecturers used to wear. They have seen a lot in life.
They know that the average student is always impatient.
I
especially love students who ask challenging questions. Sometimes when you
don't know, you can use other students to offer answers before giving the final
word of advice. It works, when three or four students give answers, you usually
have a clue. And I can never go without asking questions. I love engaging people.
But
methinks I will not last being a teacher. I have been having mild coughs that
have prevented me from sometimes finishing that which I wanted to deliver. Ormaybe I should be carrying water. I will raise this issue when we meet our bosses. If I was planning to stay infinitely, I
would have requested my employer not to place me where I landed. What I am
learning is the art of patience. I have been a master of none. Say jack of all
trades.
Oh,
and I must say I am not good with the women folk. Up until know, I have not hit
on any of the students, lets just say I am a good teacher. I know it is
unprofessional but I have to keep my pudenda from committing dhambi ya adamu
na hawa.
Soon,
I will practice the art of deception. I will only cram one good story that I
will tell all my students and they will be able to identify me with the story.
In fact, I need to go to UK so that I can be able to narrate about the streets
of London feel. Even if it means going virtually. So that every statement of mine will start with, "When I was in
London, I went to the Emirates Stadium (It is the most sophisticated in England at present), White Hart Lane and The Bridge- Stamford- and I
saw River Thames where that Mighty American Magician was placed atop in a glass
house."
But
our Landlord grew up in London. In his tot years. He showed us the snaps with jungu kids him being the only black sheep among white. He schooled in the most cosy international
school in the country when his stay in UK came to an end and went for trips the average Kenyan only dreams about. But drugs my friend, rendered him I a social misfit. I only feel sorry for him because he is worse than what Zulu titled in his blog
'Give a man a hand'.
HASTA
LA VISTA BABY.
