BY
Adejoh Idoko Momoh
We’ve all had that one
teacher who was so tough on all her students that she was generally feared.
That one in her middle ages who would wear layers and layers of very bright red
lipstick and would come to school in stilettos. She mostly would teach a
subject like English and would speak it impeccably, such that she would feel
somewhat superior to fellow teachers who spoke the language averagely.
‘Take out a sheet of
paper and have your writing materials ready’
she would say as she
cat-walked into class one morning. She would administer an impromptu test that
would form part of our continuous assessment even though she did not prepare us
for it. All through primary school as I remember it, I had never felt as much
pressure about passing a simple test as I did that day.
I had written about
Kenya’s Maasai people and their distinctive, a-little-too-colorful customs. How
they believed soil was therapeutic and they buried themselves in the ground for
healing. And then I waited, held my breath as she sat at her table with cane by
her side scoring our essays.
As she passed by me
returning test scripts, I would see red circles correcting grammar on the first
page of my essay and I would think of how she now considered me a failure. How
the matron when I got back to the hostel would consider me same and my dad… His
face as he looked at the test script not saying anything but probably
contemplating if it was still a wise decision to have me in school.
I would flip three
pages and what I would see would shock me;
97%. With a tiny gold
star next to it.
The universally feared
teacher who made it a point not to ever give good grades gave me an A. She
didn’t just stop there; she stapled a tiny piece of paper just at the bottom of
my script that made me feel special, very special.
‘Excellent
storytelling. You have an ease with words. You do us all a disservice if you do
not consider a career in writing’
The words so profound,
no one had ever said anything like that to me. Except of course for my mom who
in typical mom-like manner would say I was particularly skilled at whatever it
is I told her I was interested in and that I was a genius who would redefine
everything I set my hands on. This was when I knew I wanted to write. I knew I
would purposefully look for something to genuinely compliment about people
whenever I met them. For the sole reason that affirming words like these from
friends, mentors, teachers, family, strangers even, make us into the people we
ultimately become. They point us in the direction of a dream, make us consider
or at least contemplate it.
Words carry immense
power and it’s no good trying to deny this. My very favorite quote by Nigerian
writer, Toni Kan is ‘sometimes the verbal wounds we inflict on others live with
us for the rest of our lives’. As far as our words can go to tell someone we
believe in them, they can also tear us or someone else down, make them question
the very essence of their lives.
This is perhaps why we
need to speak a little more kindly, a little more thoughtfully. Make conscious
efforts to have our words motivate people rather than discourage them, inspire
them as opposed to devastate them. We most often have no idea what impact a few
words stringed together can make.
Share
stories of someone who has been an inspiration to you in the comments or send
me a private mail at momoh.adejoh@gmail.com.
