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Writer's pictureChinwe Njoku

That time when teaching 2

… I knew I had to leave the classroom or it wouldn’t end well. Not only for me, not only for the students, and least of all my reputation. I had to save face.

Only God now remembers what I ate the nights before that got my insides into a right state. That was the second time it was happening in my then 4 years of teaching.

woman wearing black camisole

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The first time I felt so pressured was during my first year of teaching when I was being observed (a termly exam most, if not all teachers go through and are graded on to determine their level of teaching). Anxiety was probably a catalyst. It was only by divine providence, that I managed to teach the full lesson, and then wait back after dismissing the students to receive feedback from my observers = more experienced teachers, without going into full meltdown from the pressures I was feeling. As I was sweating profusely, and it was not from the summer heat, trust me. Truly the Lord keeps us so that nothing is broken.

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Second time I remember, was close to the end of a school term. I was feeling the pressure while teaching and tried to distract myself from thinking about making the dump. After many ebbs and flows of the pain, I walked out the door to find a colleague to watch my class. (Ideally, no group of students should be left unsupervised). And you wouldn’t believe it. It was like they could sense extra duties and ran off. The corridors were surprisingly clear, both of students and teachers. I must have said and sent a desperate prayer to Jesus because not too long later, a friendly colleague walks past on her hurried way out for a school trip. I beckoned her over, pleading with her to retain her eyes on my class while I sprint off to make room for my next meal! Graciously she did. Not sure if I shared my actual ordeal with her.

hands in front of white and black background

Third strike, or should I say, the hat trick happened last year. People I did my best to rein it all in, but hey ho, they all wanted out. Again, I strode out the door and one of my dear students walked past. I asked her to go get me the head of my department. She did and to save face, I contorted my face, pointing to my mouth like I wanted to throw up. I reckoned throwing up was more socially acceptable than what I really wanted to do. He came over, watched my class while I took all my 5 minutes to lose that weight that was besetting me. I must have even forced myself to throw up some so it doesn’t feel like I lied!! In fact, the trip to the rest room, earned me a quiet lesson for the rest of the time. Students have a way of behaving themselves when they see you’re ill. Almost like they’re having mercy on you and want to take care of you. More so, if they like you. Double love dose. To God to all the glory, I made it through these three episodes. Don’t worry, ain’t about to be a yearly occurrence. To your finding the funny in discomfort, . . .

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