The Homework

  More often than not look down on physical disciplining children in school environments however this was not the case back in Kenya as in many other countries. Any given teacher could discipline you according to the level of misbehavior you have exhibited, almost like a judge handing down a sentence on a murderer. Back in Kenya I had a fairly easygoing lifestyle. There were days fewer than I can count that I went to sleep without eating any food, if that ever did happen, and much like here in the United States, I lived like any other child, except for one major difference between me as a child and a typical American child, my teachers would discipline us through physical punishment. 

     I lived with my mother my mother and grandmother at the time and we lived right next door to the school. There was a wall along the outside of our compounds and with just a little bit of effort and a few scrapes here and there, I was able to get over the wall and either get to school or get home though I was sternly warned not to. My mother at the time worked as an interior designer and my grandmother was the headmistress of the school that I attended.  Though a little disappointing, it was an ironclad rule not to show favour to students based on where they were from even as private institution and  thanks to that, There were more times than I can count on my hands and toes that I was physically disciplined by my teachers and even more that I was dealt a second blow by my parents when I got home from school by either my grandmother who quickly heard the news, or my mother who also got wind of the news as quickly. One would assume that with the thin sheet of ice I was walking on I would tread carefully, more often than not I was like a wild bear hunting down its prey, throwing its full body weight on the ice.

                Back in Kenya, we had a very packed daily schedule. From anywhere between eight to nine classes every day of the week, it was to say the least a very full schedule. A typical day would involve three classes in the morning, a forty-minute break, which at the time felt like five minutes, followed by another set of three classes, lunch time, and finally either a final set of three classes or on Fridays and Thursdays, a single swimming class or sports activities. With all these classes being taken in a single day every day, it definitely wasn't uncommon for students to forget their homework at home or even leave it in their bags which were outside the classrooms. Because of this, I was quite used to the sight of seeing my friends being disciplined in class or on the few occasions that I did forget it myself, I was not too afraid of the beatings I would receive.                To most people in the world, math is not a subject that would be put in the top three of their favourite assignments, the same was true for me. Math as a young child took so long for me to comprehend and to do that, I needed to spend time studying it and if I was to do that I wouldn't have time to go out and play with my friends. So it would be quite obvious as to why I wouldn't want to use my time on studying my books when I could be out in the neighborhood playing soccer with the local street kids. More than often, that was the case. I would end up going out of the house whilst lying about my homework and play with my friends, or I would simply stay in the house and not do my homework. Now even when I did that, I always seemed to find a way to get my work done before the class started. Thanks to this lack of getting caught, I started to get sloppy with my procedure. Barely making it on time, more wrong answers and it even got to the point where I was forgetting my homework at home which for the most port didn't end in any drastic repercussions

         One morning, as I was in class I was just talking to my friends around my desk as the bell had just rang, signifying a change in classes. we continued talking until our teacher walked into the class and just like that the class was silent. Everyone scurried back into their seats to stand and greet him,  "Good morning Mr. Mukwisa." we all said in unison. He greeted us and told us to sit. It was about to be the first math class of the day and he started like he would any other class. "Ninataka mtoe ile kazi niliwapea jana mfanye nyumbani,"he said: take out your homework . The moment he said that I froze, realizing that I had left it at home. I sat around and looked at my classmates taking out their homework as I sat there in dreading what would come next. I then came up with this brilliant idea that would save me from getting into the trouble that awaited me in the near future and that was to go back home, get my work and come back. Now this was a very feasible plan as I lived literally one fence away from the school so it was quite easy to go home and come back unnoticed. So I told my teacher that I needed to go to the bathroom immediately and he reluctantly agreed after I threatened to release gas in the room and went on my to fulfill my mission. I ran down the stair to the ground floor of the building, Ran to the front courtyard, crawled under my grandmothers office window which was right at the front of the school, hopped the fence and grabbed my book, without looking in it I ran back out and traced my steps back to the classroom where to my dismay, my grandmother stood. I looked across the classroom and instantly knew I had been caught. There was no lying my way out of this. My grandmother called me up to the front of the classroom and with a stern voice asked me, "Ulienda wapi?" My voice suddenly disappeared and I found myself unable to answer her simple question : where did you go? In a soft quiet voice, I told her that I had gone home to collect my homework. She looked at me with fury in her eyes that I now know wasn't because I had left my homework, but because I had left school grounds without anybody's permission or knowledge. She then asked to see my homework and I proudly gave it to her as I thought that she would see my math homework that she knew I despised so much and would be satisfied with my results and spare me a beating. She read through it and asked the teacher what I was supposed to have done the night before and he directed her to the page where my homework was. She looked at the page, looked at me, and looked back at the page one more time before telling me to turn my back to the class and put my hands on the blackboard. She grabbed a meter ruler and proceeded to beat me about five to ten strokes and gave me my notebook, told me to go sit down and left the class.

                I sat in my chair holding back tears as the teacher continued the lesson and opened my notebook. I flipped to the next open page so that I could start taking notes on the class and when I looked at the page next to it where my homework should've been, I saw nothing. tears started pouring out of my eyes like a dam releasing water and I realized that the night before I hadn't done my homework.

                    After that, I went home and decided that it wasn't worth it to not do my homework and get caught sneaking home to get it. I decided that If I were to forget my homework or not do it at all I would either just lie and say I forgot it at home, as I knew no teachers were going to let me go back home to get my work or, I would simply just take the beating and keep it pushing. 

"School" by Krzysztof Pacholak is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.