The new village school teacher

I had never seen someone in a suit and tie except in pictures. Therefore, it was exciting when Mr. Albert was introduced as our new class teacher on our first day in primary five. He was so completely different from any of the other teachers in our school. All the other teachers wore plain shirt and trouser or Yoruba native buba top and smart traditional pantaloons. The women teachers came in simple blouse and skirt or ankle length dress. Nothing formal. Not their church wear or anything like that. Even the headmaster, Mr. Daniel always came in short sleeve shirt and trousers and most often, a pair of brown sandals, similar to the ones that the students wore - those of them that could afford to buy shoes.

There was so much excitement in class 5E that morning. Many of the pupils had never been in the same class together. New friends (and enemies) were being made, new allegiances being formed (and some old ones being broken). Such processes tended to be accompanied by plenty of noise, paper throwing, name-calling and other unruly behaviour. However, as soon as Mr. Daniel entered the class the noise stopped immediately. It was as if somebody had pressed the OFF switch on a loquacious farmyard equipment.

We all stood up at once. ‘Good morning, Mr. Daniel’.

‘Good morning, class’.

Mr. Albert was taller than Mr. Daniel. He had a lot of grey hair. His suit was dark blue, his shirt white, his tie red - with some stripy patterns of black and white. His black shoes gleamed like the boots of a soldier on inspection. He may well have stepped out of a magazine. And Mr. Daniel...He looked like a school gateman or gardener showing the Bank manager the way to the school office.

After Mr. Daniel had gone out, Mr. Albert stood in front of the class for about five minutes without saying a word. We were all silent, not knowing what to make of him. All too stunned to have such a teacher. He did not seem to be stern at all. Moreover, he had a friendly smile.

‘Please, sit down’. He said after a while. And then he said 'I want two people to come forward and help me with a little exercise.'

Nobody responded so he picked John, who was the tallest boy in the class and then he pointed to me. ‘Yes, you, with the glasses’, he said, when I hesitated to get up. They weren’t real glasses, though. It was just an old frame without any lenses. It belonged to my brother, but I didn’t know where he had found them.

Mr. Albert took some white A4-sized cards and black felt tip pens from his black leather briefcase. Lines had been drawn on the cards, dividing them into rectangles. ‘You, my dear assistants, are going to help me hand these out in an orderly fashion' he spoke very differently; none of the other teachers ever said anything like 'orderly fashion' and they never referred to any of us as 'assistants'.

'I want you to clearly write your names in the boxes in your best handwriting and then draw a small logo underneath it'. He took a piece of chalk and drew a small star on the board. 'That is my own logo. I want you to draw your own, which must be different from mine and anybody else's

After we were all done, we collected the cardboards. Mr. Albert studied them, laughing quietly to himself at some of our handiwork.