When Junior Follows Footstep: Don’t blame teachers for lateness when the boss is always late

It is a sentence that sounds simple, but it carries a hard truth that many schools avoid. In too many institutions, teachers are treated like the default culprits whenever timekeeping collapses. They are the ones summoned, warned, threatened with show-cause letters, embarrassed in staff meetings, or turned into examples to “send a message.” Yet the same leaders who demand punctuality sometimes stroll into the compound long after the first bell, long after assembly should have started, long after learners have already settled into disorder, and long after the day’s momentum has already been damaged. And that is where the real contradiction begins: you cannot enforce what you refuse to model.

A school is not just a collection of classrooms and chalkboards. It is a system. It is a culture. It is a rhythm built daily through routines that either strengthen learning or sabotage it. In that system, the administration is not simply an office that issues instructions. It is the engine that drives the institution. When the engine delays, everything delays. When the engine is inconsistent, everything becomes inconsistent. When the engine lacks discipline, the entire school wobbles.

Timekeeping is not a slogan pinned on the noticeboard. It is leadership in action.

The moment learners notice that the head teacher, deputy, or senior teacher arrives late, they internalize a message far louder than any lecture at assembly: time is negotiable. It can be bent. It can be excused. It depends on who you are. That single lesson is dangerous because it destroys fairness. It creates double standards where the powerful are forgiven and the ordinary are punished. In such an environment, teachers become scapegoats for a problem that is not individual but institutional.

Let us be honest about how lateness spreads in a school setting. It rarely begins with teachers waking up and deciding to sabotage the day. Most of the time, it begins with inconsistency at the top. The gate is opened late. Morning duty is weak or not supervised. Assembly begins at “around” a certain time instead of a fixed time. Meetings are called without planning and stretch endlessly. Staff briefings are done casually during lesson hours, and then teachers are blamed for “not covering the syllabus.” The calendar is packed with activities that swallow instructional time, but when results drop, the blame is dumped on the classroom teacher. That is not management. That is confusion wearing the uniform of authority.

When the administration arrives late, the school day starts late even if the timetable says otherwise. Teachers notice. Learners notice. Support staff notice. Parents notice. And the result is predictable: everyone adjusts downward. A teacher who arrives early and finds no urgency, no supervision, and no structure eventually starts asking themselves why they should keep sacrificing their time for a system that does not respect time. A learner who is punished for arriving at 7:30 a.m. while watching leaders walk in at 8:10 a.m. learns not discipline but resentment. And resentment is a silent poison. It does not announce itself loudly. It spreads quietly until it becomes culture.

ALSO READ:

KNUT Narok Team Change dismisses opinion polls, accuses current leadership of bias

Punctuality is not built by threats. It is built by example.

A school can issue as many circulars as it wants. It can shout rules every morning. It can even punish a few teachers to “set the pace.” But if leadership does not model punctuality, those rules become theatre. They become noise. They become hypocrisy. And hypocrisy is the fastest way to kill morale. When teachers see that timekeeping is only demanded from them but not from the office, they stop taking the rules seriously. They stop believing in the system. They stop trusting the leadership.

Teachers are professionals, yes, but they are also human beings. They respond to fairness. They respond to consistency. They respond to respect. When the administration is harsh on teachers but gentle on itself, teachers begin to feel like they are being managed, not led. They begin to feel like the goal is control rather than improvement. And when teachers feel controlled, they withdraw emotionally. They do the bare minimum. They stop volunteering. They stop innovating. They stop going the extra mile. They stop believing the school is a shared mission. The institution then loses its most valuable asset: committed staff.

It is also important to understand that lateness is not always a moral failure. Sometimes it is a symptom of deeper operational problems. Many teachers travel long distances to work. Some commute from towns to remote schools with poor roads. Some face unpredictable transport, harsh weather, or insecurity. Some have family responsibilities that are real and heavy. A responsible administration acknowledges these realities and works with teachers to find practical solutions. But when the administration itself is late, it loses moral authority to correct anyone else. It becomes impossible to separate genuine challenges from careless behaviour because leadership has already blurred the line.

Leadership is not about shouting the loudest. It is about setting the standard.

In schools, the standard is not set by what is written in the timetable. It is set by what happens in the compound. If the deputy principal is on duty by 7:00 a.m., learners will begin arriving earlier. If the head teacher is visible at the gate, teachers will adjust their routines. If morning assembly begins exactly on time, the school will learn to respect the clock. But if leaders arrive late and still expect teachers to be on time, the message becomes confusing: “Time matters for you, but not for me.” That is not discipline. That is privilege. And privilege has no place in education leadership.

The purpose of school discipline is to build character, order, responsibility, and a culture of excellence. It is not meant to embarrass people. It is not meant to oppress. It is not meant to create fear. Yet when teachers are blamed unfairly for lateness while leaders excuse themselves, discipline becomes punishment rather than growth. It becomes a weapon rather than a tool. It becomes personal rather than professional. And once discipline becomes personal, conflict becomes inevitable.

Some administrators argue that teachers should be punctual regardless of what leaders do. In principle, that sounds right. Every professional should be punctual. But schools are not laboratories of theory; they are communities of practice. Behaviour is contagious. Standards are social. People do not follow policies; they follow patterns. If the administration’s pattern is lateness, lateness becomes normalized. That is not a teacher problem. That is a leadership problem.

ALSO READ:

TVET CDACC releases November–December 2025 assessment results

A serious administration does not ask, “Who can we punish?” It asks, “What system is failing?”

The question should never be “Why are teachers late?” alone. It should be “Why is the school culture allowing lateness?” If the school gate opens late, fix the gate schedule. If morning duty is weak, strengthen supervision. If staff meetings eat into lesson time, schedule them properly. If transport is a challenge, explore staff welfare arrangements, housing options, or structured reporting procedures that still protect learning time. If teachers are overwhelmed with administrative duties, reduce unnecessary paperwork and let teachers teach. These are leadership decisions, not teacher excuses.

Because the truth is simple; a school that values time protects learning time.

Every minute lost in the morning is a minute stolen from a learner’s future. When lessons start late, coverage is rushed. When coverage is rushed, understanding becomes shallow. When understanding is shallow, performance drops. When performance drops, pressure rises. And when pressure rises, some administrators panic and start looking for someone to blame. Teachers become the convenient target. But blame does not recover lost time. Only discipline and structure do.

The most painful part is that lateness has a ripple effect that most people ignore. A teacher who enters class late has to spend time calming learners down. That means the lesson starts even later. Learners who miss the first minutes of learning lose focus and struggle to catch up. The teacher then rushes through content to “cover,” leaving gaps in understanding. Those gaps show up later as weak performance. Weak performance triggers extra remedial lessons, extra pressure, extra meetings, extra demands, and extra frustration. In the end, the school becomes a place of constant panic instead of purposeful learning—all because time was not respected at the beginning.

A disciplined school does not rely on shouting to run. It relies on routines.

The administration must therefore treat punctuality as a whole-school project, not a punishment campaign. It must begin with the leaders themselves. Leaders must be the first to arrive, the first to check duty stations, the first to inspect classrooms, and the first to reinforce routines. That is how authority is earned. Authority is not earned by titles. It is earned by consistency.

And consistency is what schools need most.

Imagine a school where the administration is always present early, where assembly begins at the same time daily, where lessons start promptly, where latecomers are handled fairly and professionally, where teachers are supported rather than attacked, and where the day runs with predictable rhythm. Such a school becomes calm. It becomes focused. It becomes productive. Teachers teach with confidence. Learners learn with seriousness. Parents trust the institution. The community respects it. That is what punctual leadership builds.

Now imagine the opposite: a school where leaders come late, where routines shift daily, where teachers are blamed for systemic failures, where learners see double standards, and where discipline is selective. That school becomes noisy. It becomes chaotic. It becomes a place where learning fights for space with confusion. And no amount of shouting can fix confusion. Confusion needs order, and order begins with leadership.

Therefore, let us stop pretending this is a small issue. Lateness is not just lateness. It is a sign of the health of the institution. When a school cannot keep time, it is struggling to keep standards. When standards fall, outcomes fall. And when outcomes fall, everyone suffers—teachers, learners, parents, and the nation.

Yes, teachers must be punctual. But administrations must be more punctual. Not because they are superior, but because they are responsible. They are the custodians of culture. They are the guardians of routine. They are the people who must demonstrate what they demand. In education, the best leadership is not the one that talks the most; it is the one that models the most.

You cannot demand discipline while modelling indiscipline.

You cannot preach punctuality while practicing lateness.

You cannot punish teachers for what leadership has normalized.

If the administration comes late, it must first fix itself before it fixes others. It must lead from the front, not from the comfort of the office chair. It must understand that in schools, the most powerful lesson is not taught in a classroom. It is taught by example. Learners watch. Teachers watch. Parents watch. And what they see is what they copy.

In the end, punctuality is not just about arriving early. It is about respect—respect for learning, respect for people, respect for time, and respect for the mission of education. When the administration respects time, the school respects time. When the administration treats time casually, the school treats time casually. It is that direct.

So the next time a teacher is accused of lateness, let the administration look in the mirror first. Let leadership ask itself hard questions. Let it examine the culture it has created. Let it fix what it has tolerated. Because blaming teachers while leadership is late is not discipline. It is injustice. And a school cannot build excellence on injustice.

By Hillary Muhalya