As you all know, Saphire is one of the oldest teachers in Mwisho wa Lami — a man who has been interdicted more times than he has visited Nairobi. Two months ago, after yet another interdiction, he was let go. He did not take it well, and neither did his family. Indeed, the entire Mwisho wa Lami community, Hitler’s base, the churches, and even the pupils were not happy.
Even the teachers, many of whom have carried the heavy burden of Saphire’s chronic absenteeism, and had always complained to me; felt that this time the punishment was too much. But Saphire, when sober, still reported to school as if nothing had happened. He did not even know he had been fired.
Upon learning of his dismissal, he would disappear for a few days. Before one of his disappearances, he told me plainly: “I will not take this lying down. Dre, you will know who I am.”
I laughed it off. His only relative of note, a senior TSC official, who had protected him all that long, retired about six months ago, so I was sure Saphire had no one to fight for him.
Two weeks ago, Saphire strolled into the school compound like a king returning to his palace. I summoned him immediately and reminded him that he had been dismissed and should leave before I called the police.
Calmly, he replied, “You mean you have not received my reinstatement letter?”
From his pocket, he produced a folded, well-travelled photocopy letter, addressed to the County TSC Director, with me in copy, directing his reinstatement as a teacher at Mwisho wa Lami Primary.
I dismissed it, saying I could only act after confirmation from TSC. But Saphire looked me in the eye and declared: “Dre, I have known you for long. Although I cannot say you are my friend, let me give you some advice. If you insist that I go home, it is you who may end up going home, and for good. If you doubt me, check with your bosses.”
Then, without waiting for my response, he marched straight into Class Six and began teaching as though nothing had ever happened. His confidence unsettled me, so I made inquiries. To my shock, the letter was genuine. Saphire had indeed been reinstated. I swore to fight this injustice and even travelled to Kakamega, only to be told the decision had come from Nairobi itself.
Ladies and gentlemen, I could not allow Mwisho wa Lami children to suffer under a teacher who treats class attendance like a suggestion. So, I packed my best suit and travelled to Nairobi, determined to overturn the decision.
Now, what happened in Nairobi is a story for another day. For now, just know that it explains why I went missing for a few days, including me missing on these pages last Sunday. I don’t have full details, but I now have some fairly good understanding of how TSC works, and how things in this country generally work. Ladies and gentlemen, I thought I knew this country. I thought I knew TSC. I must admit that I did not know. I still do not know.
To understand this saga, some background is necessary. A few weeks ago, I wrote about the teachers’ visit to State House. I dismissed it, saying nothing would come out of it. I was wrong. At the time, except for one teacher, I did not know who else went to State House. I did not know what was discussed, except for what I read in the media, and I did not know that my name came up for discussion.
I have since learnt many things. First, that among the teachers who went to State House was none other than Saphire himself — yes, the very man I had engineered out of school. Imagine my shock: me, a respected Head of Institution, respected by many, adored by everyone, could not find a slot in the delegation, yet Saphire, a teacher who has been interdicted more times than he has taken tea in his life, found his way there. That should tell you something about his influence — and my lack of it.
Worse still, I have since learnt that I was discussed at State House. And not in a good way. Apparently, in one of the “breakout sessions” — I had never heard of that term before — the issue of tough Heads of Institutions came up. I was singled out as one who not only harasses teachers but even sacks them. And not just any teacher, but one who is the son of the soil, with deep community ties.
While State House did not directly reinstate Saphire, I have learnt that a State House official directed TSC to “handle the matter.” And in TSC language, “handling” means reinstating Saphire.
I returned to Mwisho wa Lami last week, a humbled man. I realised that in this country, a mere classroom teacher can be more powerful than a whole Head of Institution.
I have now accepted my fate. There is nothing I can do about Saphire. Whether he comes to class or not, whether he disappears for a week or even a term, I will not take action. I also take this opportunity, in my capacity as the Head of the institution of Mwisho wa Lami Comprehensive School, to welcome back Saphire to Mwisho wa Lami Primary School. Please feel at home. As and when funds become available, we will hold a big welcome bash for you. You deserve it
To all the teachers of Mwisho wa Lami, you are now free birds. You can do what you want: Arrive late, miss lessons, even vanish for days. I will not make any noise to you, will not take any action. Why should I? Hii shule sio ya mama wangu. Ni Mali ya uma!
