Although I banned football talk in the staffroom a few weeks ago, I found myself taking football in the staffroom this last week.
It all started after Kuya, the new Deputy HM, started speaking big words like KPIs, OKRs, Paradigm Shift, Low Hanging Fruits, SWOT, and Quick Wins. These big words meant absolutely nothing, as things were getting worse.
If you remember, on his first official day as Deputy HM, he had sent home Saphire for being late; telling him that going forward, it would be Business Unusual.
Being a servant leader who has always been close to my team, teachers increasingly started talking to me, and this is how we found ourselves talking about Onana. If you know Onana, then you know that just as sure as night comes after day, Onana concedes a cheap goal whenever Man U plays.
“This Onana is a waste of money,” I agreed with Alex, a fellow supporter of Man U, “He was praised to be a great goalkeeper but has only delivered pain to the fans.” We discussed more about this, and the more we talked the more teachers got comfortable with me, and they even started talking about what a useless man Kuya was.
I initially told them Kuya was great and that we should all listen to him but my support to him – at least before teachers - ended when he attempted to assign me lessons. I started discussing him with other teachers.
He did not come to school last Tuesday. Come Wednesday morning, I received a call from an unknown number. It was Saphire on the other side. “Hey Dre, how is school?” he asked me. He said he had borrowed a phone from someone.
“Is Onana in school?” he asked. I wondered who Onana was. “You do not know Onana?” he asked then laughed loudly. “Kuya is Onana.” The headmaster in me wanted to stop him but the human being agreed with him, and I joined him in laughing. I wondered what name they called me behind my back.
“You are a friendly boss, no one has given you any nickname,” he said. I told him that Kuya was not around. “Let me come,” he said.
“I know Kuya spoke to you badly but let us not forget that you are also not doing good things,” I told Saphire as soon as he arrived, “It will be sad if you lose your job, as you will surely when Kuya reports you to TSC.”
“I know I can do better but how can I when Onana himself told me to go back home?” he wondered. I told him that I had heard but reminded him to be careful as even KNUT would not defend him. “You know you cannot be interdicted for the fourth time. You will just go home.”
I joined the teachers for lunch, and being the first time Kuya was away, we extended lunch and talked about many things. We talked Onana, politics and taxes. We then talked about Haiti. I regretted that Ford my brother is not a policeman. “I am sure he would have been chosen to go to Haiti and made lots of money,” I said.
Lena, her bad hair in tow, wondered how and I told her that the US government had given Kenya Sh14 billion and half of this would be shared between the 1,000 police officers.
“We have a very corrupt government, why would they give only 50 percent, why not the whole of it?” she asked. “Fifty percent is not bad, that is Sh7 million per police officer,” I said.
Everyone agreed it was good money. “Maybe you wanted Ford to go to Haiti so that he can be killed, and you take the money…” said Madam Sella. “Plus, his wife…” added Alex. Everyone was still laughing when a motorcycle abruptly arrived at school. It was Kuya. He was breathing fire.
“Over half an hour after afternoon classes began, and you are all here talking, what kind of teachers are you?” he asked. Within seconds, all teachers had disappeared from the staffroom to the classrooms. Except Saphire and I. “Why are the two of you not in class?” he asked. Saphire calmly said that he had no lesson at that time. “Why don’t you have a lesson?” Kuya asked him harshly.
“I do not make the school timetable, if I am not wrong, you drafted the current timetables” Kuya answered. “I did not give you a lesson because you would not be there anyway,” Kuya said. “And so how do you expect me to be in school when I have no lesson?” Saphire wondered, “Let me just go home because I have no lesson anyway.” He left.
“See the mess you brought to this school by not firmly dealing with Saphire!” Kuya confronted me as soon as Saphire left. He went on: “If you, Saphire, and I have no lessons, those are three classes with no teachers.”
I asked him why he did not have a lesson. “I am deputy and busy doing your work!” he said. I told him to proceed and give me lessons if he thought that would solve Mwisho wa Lami problems. I added, “I have observed you for the last few days and I can assure you your days are numbered.”
He answered that he was a performer and was not worried. “Even performers can be demoted,” I told him. And told him that as an Arsenal fan, he should know this already. “Your goalkeeper Ramsey has been demoted yet he was performing well, so, who do you think you are; yet you are worse than Onana?” I asked.
“I thought you banned politics and football from the staffroom?” he asked, then went to his office. I went to mine. We have not talked to one another since then.
