By K.K. BONTEH
Back in the small village of Bambili, where the green hills sang with the sound of chirping birds and the rustling wind, school was both a blessing and a burden. I spent my days at Petite CCAST, dreaming of escape from the confines of formulas, dates, and diagrams. That was until I met Mr. Abang, the man who turned literature into magic.
Mr. Abang was not just a teacher; he was a performer, a storyteller, and a magician of words. Dressed in his neatly ironed shirts that always seemed to smell of freshly cut grass, he strode into the classroom as if entering a theater. The moment he opened his mouth, we were spellbound. He didn’t just teach us literature; he made it live and breathe.
“Literary devices,” he announced one day, “are the ingredients of literature. Without them, a story is like fufu without soup—bland and pointless.” The class erupted into laughter, and we all leaned forward, eager to taste the literary soup he was preparing.
He’d stride to the blackboard, chalk in hand, and write: Personification. “When the wind sweeps over the hilltops, gathering strength and sound, that’s not just weather, my dear students. That’s drama!” He’d clap his hands for effect, and we’d feel the wind swirling around us, whispering secrets of faraway lands.
It was Mr. Abang who first described literature as “the window to the world.” He would read us passages from great British writers and then pause, letting the silence hang like a ripe mango about to drop. “See the world through this window,” he’d say, “and you’ll never be confined to the walls of this classroom.”
Before I knew it, I was dreaming of becoming a writer. I’d scribble short stories in my exercise book, imagining myself as the Cameroonian version of Charles Dickens or Chinua Achebe. Literature became my escape, my passion, my world. How I wished my teachers in other subjects could weave such magic.
And then came Mr. Eko Sama Robert.
Now, mathematics and I had been at war for years. The numbers danced on the blackboard, mocking me with their complexity. For three years, I successfully avoided math classes, mastering the art of disappearing whenever a math teacher appeared. But when Mr. Eko arrived, fresh from ENS Bambili, everything changed.
He was a young, energetic man with a booming voice that could wake the dead. “Mathematics is life!” he declared on his first day, his voice echoing across the room. We all laughed, but he was serious. He didn’t just teach us formulas; he showed us how math applied to our lives.
One Saturday, he dragged the entire class to the school field. “Today, we’re calculating the dimensions of this field,” he announced. Armed with measuring tapes, we set to work, calculating areas, perimeters, and angles. By the time we were done, I not only understood geometry but could also tell you the exact dimensions of my father’s 200-square-meter plot.
Math had become practical, tangible, and even—dare I say it—fun. It didn’t hurt that Mr. Eko would throw in jokes about life in Bambili, like how every goat in the village seemed to understand the Pythagorean theorem better than we did. His humor and energy pulled every student into his class, even the most stubborn ones like me.
Looking back, I realize how much these two teachers shaped me. Mr. Abang opened my eyes to the beauty of stories, while Mr. Eko showed me the practicality of numbers. Together, they taught me that learning is not just about passing exams but about understanding the world around us.
Today, as I sit at my desk, writing stories and reflecting on life, I often think of them. They didn’t just teach; they inspired. They didn’t just fill our heads with knowledge; they opened our minds to possibilities. And for that, I will forever be grateful.
Study Guide and Discussion Questions
Study Guide
- Key Themes:
The transformative power of passionate teaching.
The impact of individual teachers on shaping a student’s future.
The joy of learning when it is made relatable and engaging.
- Setting:
The story takes place in the small village of Bambili, with vivid descriptions of the local environment and school life.
- Message:
Great teachers don’t just impart knowledge; they inspire curiosity and a love for learning.
- Humor and Local Color:
The story includes humorous anecdotes and imagery, such as the comparison of literary devices to fufu without soup and the goats understanding geometry.
Discussion Questions
- Understanding the Story:
What made Mr. Abang’s teaching style so effective and memorable?
How did Mr. Eko change the narrator’s attitude toward mathematics?
- Themes of Inspiration:
How can a teacher’s passion for their subject influence their students’ future aspirations?
Why is it important for education to be practical and relatable?
- Humor and Local Color:
How does the use of humor and local references enhance the story’s appeal?
Can you think of similar examples from your own school life where humor made learning enjoyable?
- Application to Real Life:
What qualities do you think make a great teacher?
How can students contribute to making the classroom a more engaging place to learn?
- Reflection:
Which teacher in your life has had the most significant impact on you, and why?
If you were a teacher, how would you make your subject interesting for your students?
- Creative Thinking:
Imagine you are tasked with designing a lesson plan for a subject you love. How would you make it engaging and fun for your students?
Write a short story or poem inspired by one of your favorite teachers.
Conclusion
The anecdote highlights the profound impact that passionate and engaging teachers can have on their students. By making learning fun, relatable, and inspiring, Mr. Abang and Mr. Eko not only educated their students but also shaped their futures. Their stories remind us of the power of great teaching and the importance of appreciating those who open the windows to our world.
