Walking a Mile in His Shoes

Hi friends!
First, I bring you warm greetings from my dwelling here in southwestern Nigeria.

Source: Gemini AI
This is about my experience as a classroom teacher. For over twenty-five years of teaching English and Yoruba, I have never seen such a hurtful scenario. We had a new student in the school. Everybody said that he doesn't know how to read and write. In fact, he couldn’t speak correctly. In the staff room, teachers often complained about him negatively. Some would say that he writes and speak jargon.

One day, while in class, I asked a question and all pupils, including the new student, Kola, raised their hands. Randomly, I picked three of these pupils, including Kola, the new kid. Everyone answered except Kola. When Kola spoke, it was totally French. Every other person laughed at him. I understood what he said and I responded to him in French. He said, "Je ne comprends pas," which means "I do not understand." I responded, "Tu peux parler français ." Which means you can speak French. And he said yes. However, they all considered all he said as jargon, which was far from reality. The attitude of the pupils around him change his behaviour to an aggressive one. This resulted in some teachers calling him an imp.

Soon, I told the class to keep quiet and walk a mile in his shoes. Everything made sense to me. I was the only teacher in the whole school who understood the French language. Hmmm! French teachers are scarce.

Upon further interrogation/questioning, I found out that he was from Cotonou, which is a place located in a neighbouring country. In Nigeria, French is our second language after English. English is our official language, contrary to Benin Republic.

After the class, we discussed different regions in Benin Republic, which I know I had visited in times past. We talked about Topa and many other places. He asked me if I was from Benin Republic because I spoke really well. I smiled. I told that I studied language back in college. I can translate from English to French and Yoruba. He was really happy.

The next day, he came to school late and other teachers wanted to punish him, but I called him to myself. I began to speak in French and other teachers were shocked. They said, "Which language was I speaking?" I answered . They shouted, "You also know how to speak French!" They were taken aback by my response. After that brief discussion, I talked about why he came late, of which he answered that he missed the way to school because he was new to the area. A valid reason.

I explained to the teachers that he was a new student from Cotonou who does not know how to navigate the way to school. Because of that little expression, he was spared.

During teaching hours, I had to translate and explain to him in the language he understood. One day, he was weeping bitterly and every teacher tried to calm him. Some caned him but his voice became louder. The head teacher called for me. She said that I was the only one who could demystify the whole jargon he has been saying for quite some time.

Source : Gemini AI

I asked him, I said, "Son, why are you crying?" He said that the whole school hates him and none of them talk to him. Anything he says was often a source of laughter. I hugged him and bought a drink for him. He sat on one of the chairs in the staff room. All teachers began to ask me, "What happened to Je ne comp pas?" (a nickname given to him). I said that the other students do not understand him and they often made a jest of him or bullied him.

During the morning assembly, the head teacher made a public announcement against bullying and its new consequences.
Kola's mother was from Cotonou while his dad was a Nigerian. Everybody calls kola "omo mummy." Over time, he understood English and made a lot of friends.

During open day, his parents gave me gifts and I was really happy! They said that they didn’t know that I could speak French and this has affected their child's academic performance. They added that what I had done indicated that I had a big heart. They said that they were already deliberating sending him to a special school which was not affordable.

Now I am an assistant head teacher; however, mummy’s boy never leaves me alone. He is my friend.

I hope that you enjoy this story. It is a tone from my heart.

Thanks for visiting!