Happenstances
Today, I'm thinking.
Thinking back to random happenstances that made my heart swell.
Chance meetings with teachers from my past.
My P.1 English teacher - Miss. Kabajasi
She always had a smile, her face lit up every time we met.
In P.2, I missed her, she wasn't my teacher any more.
Each time we met on the school campus, she was curious to know how I was doing.
That's how we begun playing tip/tag.
If we met and her fingers where not crossed I gave her the "tip" or she me.
Almost 25 years later, while walking on the streets of Kampala, some one hoots at me and stops.
I walked over, uncertain of who was inside.
There - Miss Kabajasi, looking pretty much the same and I, 25 years older. She called me by name, that - priceless.
My primary school headmaster - Mr. A.D.Ssozi
In a mass of over 1000 kids, he remembered little me.
He'd wave as he rode passed on his motor cycle.
15 years later, looking a lot older, still smoking his pipe, going off to play tennis at Kampala Club; he recognised me called me by name and asked about my parents and siblings - that, priceless too.
My p6 class teacher -Mr. Senabulya
One of the neatest teachers in the school. On occasion he would request me to fetch his lunch from the kitchen. I hurried along, glad to help.
15 or so years later I walked into the same school.
He, now the headmaster, smiled and called me by name. I sat down and we had a chat like two grown adults - priceless.
My high school history teacher - Mr. Tanga
Short guy, very energetic, walked with his hands bowed at his sides like he was beginning to swell,"throwing around his weight" like he used to say.
He was a very creative teacher, made us laugh and love history.
Most everyone wanted to pick his mind;- he'd written a book, lectured at Makerere University and taught in my high school.
Imagine my exhilaration when about 10 years later, he hoots from his SUV and flashes the biggest smile ever in my direction. I was so happy to see him, I nearly waved with both hands, sigh - that is priceless.
This is a special one.
My Literature teacher - Miss. Mubiru
Sweet little lady, always working to see her class excel. She fell sick at some point and we didn't see her again.
Years later, while at a choir recital at Namirembe Cathedral, I spotted her in the crowd. She was obviously happy to see me, but I couldn't understand a word coming out of her mouth.
She was mumbling.
She pulled out a pen and paper and wrote; she was happy to see me.
She lost her speech and hearing when she fell sick of cerebral malaria.
Because of her son's love for music she brought him to listen to the choir.
Her little boy was on the front row.
I stood there, speechless, close to tears.
She said she was taking speech classes, hopeful that it would all come back to her.
Precious!
That's all she wrote folks.
Thinking back to random happenstances that made my heart swell.
Chance meetings with teachers from my past.
My P.1 English teacher - Miss. Kabajasi
She always had a smile, her face lit up every time we met.
In P.2, I missed her, she wasn't my teacher any more.
Each time we met on the school campus, she was curious to know how I was doing.
That's how we begun playing tip/tag.
If we met and her fingers where not crossed I gave her the "tip" or she me.
Almost 25 years later, while walking on the streets of Kampala, some one hoots at me and stops.
I walked over, uncertain of who was inside.
There - Miss Kabajasi, looking pretty much the same and I, 25 years older. She called me by name, that - priceless.
My primary school headmaster - Mr. A.D.Ssozi
In a mass of over 1000 kids, he remembered little me.
He'd wave as he rode passed on his motor cycle.
15 years later, looking a lot older, still smoking his pipe, going off to play tennis at Kampala Club; he recognised me called me by name and asked about my parents and siblings - that, priceless too.
My p6 class teacher -Mr. Senabulya
One of the neatest teachers in the school. On occasion he would request me to fetch his lunch from the kitchen. I hurried along, glad to help.
15 or so years later I walked into the same school.
He, now the headmaster, smiled and called me by name. I sat down and we had a chat like two grown adults - priceless.
My high school history teacher - Mr. Tanga
Short guy, very energetic, walked with his hands bowed at his sides like he was beginning to swell,"throwing around his weight" like he used to say.
He was a very creative teacher, made us laugh and love history.
Most everyone wanted to pick his mind;- he'd written a book, lectured at Makerere University and taught in my high school.
Imagine my exhilaration when about 10 years later, he hoots from his SUV and flashes the biggest smile ever in my direction. I was so happy to see him, I nearly waved with both hands, sigh - that is priceless.
This is a special one.
My Literature teacher - Miss. Mubiru
Sweet little lady, always working to see her class excel. She fell sick at some point and we didn't see her again.
Years later, while at a choir recital at Namirembe Cathedral, I spotted her in the crowd. She was obviously happy to see me, but I couldn't understand a word coming out of her mouth.
She was mumbling.
She pulled out a pen and paper and wrote; she was happy to see me.
She lost her speech and hearing when she fell sick of cerebral malaria.
Because of her son's love for music she brought him to listen to the choir.
Her little boy was on the front row.
I stood there, speechless, close to tears.
She said she was taking speech classes, hopeful that it would all come back to her.
Precious!
That's all she wrote folks.
So you went to Kitante Primary School and probably Makerere High School or Caltec or Makerere College or Progressive. Tanga taught everywhere!
ReplyDeleteI love teachers! This is a good post.
Tumwi - You have certainly pinned me down with the first two guesses.
ReplyDeleteI do not think there is a Kitante student that Mr.A.D Ssozi does not remember? Okay he played tennis with my dad and our families kind of hang out (if we can call it that).But all my friends say when they meet him he does remember their names.He was an amazing headmaster and still is an amazing man.
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree Mr.Senabulya was one neat man!Infact his family was- how do I know? Nanti from doing coaching at teacher's houses.Did you ever do the Bat Valley and William Street teacher's houses?
I remember Miss. Kabajjasi.You were in P.I W? I was in G.
3TOC - Time to unveil. You remember Kabajjasi,you were in 1G, I must know you, atleast by face.
ReplyDeleteYes, we all did William Street, it reminds me of Mr. Sande and the energetic Ms. Wakhabi.
Nice.
Oh my Ms.Wakhabi, chic used to jump when she was beating you. She was so short. It was funny to watch.
ReplyDeletehehehehe, Ms.Wakbhi taught me in P.4P ,I think. With Mr.Mukasa.
Mr.Sande taught me SST in P6 AND P7.
Let me slowly work out a way to reveal said face (mine).
Surely all that was priceless.
ReplyDeleteOne observation i made with all primary school teachers is that they never seem to age. They all appear the same way as back then when we were kids.
Yo posts are so lovely to read.