Disappointed

***************
“I’m highly disappointed at you people,” He said, “very disappointed indeed.”
“But sir – we didn’t – we’re sorry. But we didn’t know.” We replied.
“And you’re just beginning; how can you be doing this.” The taller man added with a sigh.
Looking dolefully beyond them into the near distance, I didn’t say a word.
***************
 
The junior student stopped briefly, swung his cutlass sharply in the air, laughed aloud, and continued walking. It was 8am on a Monday morning.
Standing on the balcony, in improvised pyjamas, I could see him striding confidently on the tarred road ahead. Many students were going to school: book sacks slung on their sides with weeding hoes in their hands carrying cutlasses carelessly.

Are these guys farmers or students? I thought.
We were just two days old in the community, and, though the school had promised us accommodation, we were yet to pack in. So, Hillary and I stayed the night at a corps member’s place. The day before, something funny happened when we went to check out the house that the community had offered us.

          #####

“That cream colored building is the place,” Mr. Tunde said, with a strong Yoruba accent, smiling.
Being the caretaker of the building, we had followed Him from his abode to the house that had been graciously given to us.

“Wow! It’s a big compound –” I said as I sighted it from afar, “it really nice.”
“It is. The owner just needs people who’ll live here, keep the house warm, and surroundings clean.” He added.

He unlocked the gate and we walked into the spacious compound; evidently, the owner was wealthy as the fixtures and environs were ‘state-of-the-art’.

It was fenced round, had a borehole, and was well shaded with abundant cashew trees planted in neat rows. There was a main building – much like a country home – and a detached boys quarter. While the main building was painted resplendently in cream, the boys quarters was grey, no thanks to the colour of cement. This was where I faced my first disappointment.

My mind leapt and I imagined myself and Hillary staying in a large country home with spilt unit air conditioning systems; each of us having a room and a large parlor to share replete with a television set and DSTV. (I saw a DSTV dish at the side of the house, after all.)

“The boys quarters is big enough to house both of you,” Mr Tunde said, “it also has a toilet and a kitchen.”

What! Boys quarters? I thought.

The boys quarters was unlike the main house. It had no mosquito nets, was not painted and had a plywood ceiling which made the room hot and humid. In all, I was disillusioned.
“Thank you very much Sir,” we managed to say, “it’s a nice place.”

Really, all my hopes of living ‘in’ a mansion in a rural community had been dashed – but, at least, I was living ‘around’ a mansion. I took it in good faith.
After some more looking around, we left the compound – planning to pack in the next day. It was the frustration, as well as thoughts on how we were going to clear up all the grasses there, that made me sleep late, and, ultimately, wake up by 8am on Monday.

          #####

“Uk, let’s go to work.” Hillary said to me around 11am.
I got dressed, jumped into my rugged brown moccasins, donned a black cap, and we left for school.
Since no subject had been assigned to me to teach, and considering the fact that most students went with various farm implements, I was lethargic about going – Hillary’s call was the stimulus.

As we approached the school’s staff room, we saw the Senior Secondary School principal, and the Junior Secondary School principal discussing.

“Are you people just resuming by this time?” one of them asked pointing at his wrist watch.
Silence.
“I’m highly disappointed at you people,” He said, “what kind of impression are you creating.”
“But sir – we didn’t – we’re sorry. But we didn’t know.” We replied.
“And you’re just beginning; how can you be doing this.” The taller man added with a sigh.
Looking dolefully beyond them into the near distance, I didn’t say a word.

[We were not given any introduction to the rules of the school since we resumed. We weren’t even treated as though we existed. How were we to know? If you were in our shoes, what would be your reaction?]

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Next Episode: Monday, 4th  September ‘13