It had been a rather busy time for me and my colleagues as we made preparations for this year's KCSE examinations. In between the preparations, I was also following leads into an incident in which a Form Three student was found with a mobile phone in the dormitory.
The phone, a cheap mulika mwizi, was intercepted during routine checks, and after a hard grilling session the student revealed who had lent him the device, which is clearly against the school's code of regulations.
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Though the school administration, at the behest of our principal, Obote, has been working around the clock to keep cases of indiscipline to a minimum, problems still persist, like the incident I have just mentioned. The contents of the phone are highly classified, as they will form the basis for further investigations into a number of issues in the school. Suffice it to say that Kauzi, one of our security guards, has been mentioned in connection with the incident and may at some point face disciplinary action.
I have always harboured the feeling that most cases of student indiscipline, including setting school property on fire, have external forces acting on them, for whatever reason. I now feel vindicated.
However, I was elated when staffroom tea arrived, thanks to our colleague Marashi, who is both the office tea committee chairperson and treasurer combined. As I have said before, Marashi is very good at cooking and at eating as well. In fact, when in the right mood, she can eat her own weight in food. So it was in order when we unanimously agreed that she should collect our contributions for the staffroom tea so that she could make the necessary arrangements.
Anything beyond tea is at the teachers' discretion, what we lightheartedly call "escort", meaning something solid to eat with tea. Marashi has been particularly keen on consuming "escort", ranging from chapati, mandazi and boiled sweet potatoes to other stuff whose names I find hard to memorise, things she makes at home and carries to school in her handbag. As for me, Nectar has vowed, over her dead body, that she cannot allow me to carry any kind of "escort" bites from home to take with staffroom tea. She deems it very immodest for a man of my calibre.
No sooner had I swallowed my second sip of tea than Napoleon, our only deputy principal, walked casually into the staffroom, muttered something like greetings to all of us, went to the corner and poured himself a cup of tea. It was a rare appearance. Since he was promoted to his current position, he has given the staffroom tea a wide berth and instead makes himself coffee with a heater and plastic jug at the agriculture workshop. I have never understood the reason for that sudden change of behaviour, but as we say, I let sleeping dogs lie.
The atmosphere became tense immediately when Marashi, who had gone to serve our principal tea in his office, returned and stood hands akimbo at the staffroom door, watching Napoleon sip his tea. I knew there would be a nasty exchange, since Marashi is one person who does not hide her emotions no matter the consequences. I almost took my tea to drink in the lab, had she not held her peace for a while. That was a godsend.
Napoleon, for his part, apologised for being away and for failing to contribute to the tea project, and said he would from now on contribute generously so that the tea could continue to be served to the teachers. In the spirit of cooperation, he pulled out his wallet and gave an amount equivalent to the three months' contributions he had skipped.
I gave Marashi a knowing wink, and she picked up the money and stuffed it into her handbag. I was glad the matter had been laid to rest. Call it a storm in a teacup, so that we could deal with more serious emerging issues.
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