Dr Freaks Journal - The "Cool" And The "Weird" Teachers

 Today, permit me to write about "Weird" and Cool Teachers.

Caveat Lector:
It is not "Teachers' Day" yet and this is not an attempt to disparage the person of any particular teacher; instead the piece is born(e) out of pure nostalgia.

I think I was in Form 2 (yes Form 2, no thanks to Prof Babs Fafunwa who converted our Form structure into 6-3-3-4 midway) at the time and I had this "wonderful" English language teacher who "ruined" my holiday for me.

 Holiday was approaching and what that meant at the time was a break from lectures, tests and even assignments! We had all fantasized about how we were going to savour every moment of the break until that teacher walked into our dingy classroom to break our infant hearts. He gave us the most unimaginable assignment of the decade. 

Guess what, write 2000 (two thousand) words - comparatives - superlatives! There was nothing like Google at the time. Internet was not even known to our teachers let alone the students so we were all left at the mercy of "Hornby," "Oxford," and "Advanced Learner's" dictionaries. 

I think I managed to write about 200 and it got to a point I damned the consequences and was now ready to even receive 30 strokes of the cane upon resumption. I loosened up. Ate my Christmas chicken well. Played football and cycled well. Time rolled by and it was resumption time. On getting to school, I found out that I was not alone. I even tried! Some did less than 50 and we were all ready for the worst. I think his was one of the first lectures we received at the beginning of the term. 

Guess what, he never directed us to submit that assignment till this moment! He was just a killjoy.


A proverb goes thus: "spare the rod and spoil the child."

 I have no issue with that honestly but as young as I was at the time I could differentiate between NOT sparing the rod and aiming at maiming a child. We had this teacher at the time on whom nature had bestowed a big frame. He was a six-footer and had an athletic build too. He also doubled as a vice-principal. His hobby was flogging/caning. I doubt if he ever taught any subject at the time. He simply caned for fun and for a living! Chai! This man could flog the entire student population of over 1000 and he never went below or above six strokes! I have since forgiven him. May the good Lord rest his soul.


Then we had our own dear "Baba something" who would come to class once or twice. The first being the third week of the Term to teach "Rusting" and maybe once more before a younger teacher would later be sent to our rescue. He was a jolly good fellow though. He knew everybody's father! May the good Lord rest his beautiful soul too.


What about the one who taught us the "Unknown Language?" "Amulu hihuso pharyngeak." Great dude! 

He was granted a car loan but upon the discovery of how much he was going to repay as interests, he opted out and elected to get a bicycle instead. He hated nonsense! Throughout my stay at that citadel of learning (almost 10 years), Doc who later became a Prof never went anywhere without his Raleigh bike.

 He was cool!

How could I have left my former HOD out!

 He practically turned his office into a chimney! He smoked everywhere he went. Corridor, office, car park but in fairness to him, he never defiled the lecture theatres. I remember sharing some sticks with him though. Great dude!


What about the "Prof" who "harvested" my babe! That one, is he not fooling himself around today still? In fairness to him it was an honest mistake. Lol. A gist for another day. 


Choi! How could I have left out the ones who practically lifted and dictated from textbooks? The moment I discovered their sources, I stopped wasting my quality time in class. In fact, I started reading ahead of them. Cool dudes.


Let me digress a bit. My father and I actually attended the same secondary school. He graduated 45 years earlier. My mum did everything within her power to make me a neat boy but I think I was not "destined" to be a "neat boy". She would make 5 pairs of the navy blue knickers, 5 pairs of white shirts and 5 pairs of house wears but I would still appear in school "not too neat".

 My father did not even have issues with that but what he had issues with was the way I used to come back with torn knickers. All my knickers had holes around the buttocks region, so during one of my long breaks my dad summoned me to the balcony where he was relaxing.

 I knew there was trouble because he did not call me "Kunle" but " Olakunle oh!"

 There a big difference between the two names in my home. After all he was a teacher and for once he applied psychology. He simply asked me where my class was located and I told him it was close to the Quadrangle and Agidimo Hill. The next question was whether a particular slope was still there and I answered in the affirmative. He nodded as if eureka he had found it!

 He needed not say more. 

Having attended the same school and having played the same planks 50 years earlier, he knew that I had been engaging in various dangerous games around that particular slope. What did we not do! Get a plank, sit on it and let it slide 30 to 40 metres downwards! 

Gracious God saw us through. 

At this point it was obvious that I was in hot soup. Game up. Baba Agric never spared the rod. I never went back to that place! Baba Agric was a cool teacher. Mum was actually my first informal and formal teacher too. Coolest mum ever! May their beautiful souls rest in perfect peace.


Stay safe!

Its Kunle