It is so long. It is so windy. It is fascinating, intimidating, and amazing. I mean life; the journey of life. Like any other journey you are not perpetually in travel. As you travel it is natural and necessary that somewhere, sometime, somehow you have to take a rest. You rest to re-invest extra energy into the journey. This is the time you take stock of the journey. You look at what remains ahead of you and the mind tries to wander around as to how it will get itself there. Somehow you find it is inevitable to reflect on the past, the distance already travelled. Somehow you seek to understand how is it that you have gone that far. You reflect and relive the past. You see it. You note its highs and valleys. You remember how it all started taking shape. Perhaps you could have foreseen it all shaping out as it has turned out today. Usually though how the past interwove its events in order to make the ladder leading to the present fascinates and amazes you. Sometimes it makes you cry. Sometimes you wish other things had not happened. You wish things had turned out in a different fashion. It generates bitterness, anger, and hate. Yet somehow you must submit to the realization that what has been done, the past, cannot in anyway be undone (Trevor Phoya 2004). This is what makes you appreciate the valuable packages the past contains. Later you realise there is never pay in hating and being bitter about the past. You discover you have got to put to valuable use all the contents of the past by learning from it and its mistakes.
The process of reflection is awesome. I have been reflecting myself about the past of late. Today 9th June 2009 the Year of Our Lord I have just graduated with a Master of Applied Ethics at Linköpings Universitet, Sweden. It is awesome. Minus the tribute I wrote on 15th March 2009 about my late great dad I discovered there are many and many more people I both remember and have to remember to have put me and kept me on course. This is the course whose very rail has helped me get this far. They made great contributions. They might not have known it neither been known themselves. Today I paused and was soon remembering some outstanding people who inspired me.
I remember that young beautiful and decent female teacher whose name I just cannot remember. The year was 1987. I was only 5years then and was doing my standard one class. She was very kind to me. She was assuring and gave me a sense of security at the school. She was also a friend of my mother herself a teacher at the same school, Kasungu L.E.A. School.
In pausing to reflect I remembered my new school at then the new and modern Kasungu Demonstration Primary School in 1989 when I was seven and started my standard 3 class. I remember Mrs Kasakula our STD 3 teacher. She had long hair. She never shouted but always spoke softly in her teaching. She was quiet and spoke in a tender tone. I do not remember seeing her angry and mad at a pupil. She had rare talents as I now realise. I liked her. I was sure even if I made a mistake in class she would take it wisely and treated us with dignity. I now realise pupils and children might not know what respecting human dignity even in the under-aged is all about. These are too abstract terms to be comprehended by their immaure minds. Yet one should never be misled into assuming they do not feel it as everybody else when their dignity is undermined. They know it best. In my memory’s eye I can see her teaching her us how to read a clock and tell the time. She was great.
I remember Mrs Mateche Banda our Standard 4 teacher. Unlike Mrs Kasakula she was not a quiet personality. She liked talking. Never take this for a weakness or a dent. It suited her well. We all liked what she talked about and how she did. I can say she was probably the other of the two motherly teachers I have met in life. I can actually remember that she is the first teacher who started giving us advice as to how we were to live a worthwhile life. She was just a mother. Whenever you messed up or misbehaved you knew she would sure punish you. However we knew that her punishment was always out of love. We did not hate her for that. She interacted nicely with us and the sense of a family was unmistakable.
In the course of my reflection I remembered about my Standard five experiences. I remember Mrs Chauma our teacher. She was, just as Mrs Mateche, motherly. She was hard working. She was kind. She was scarcely angry but spoke kindly and gently and usually in a pleading tone. She could arrange extra lessons in the afternoon. She taught us geography and about Malawi’s neighbours. That is how I first learnt the meaning of the word neighbour. She taught us of deciduous and evergreen trees and why they behave such. That was when I was ten. I can remember.
Getting to standard six I remember Mr Gerald Kasekani Banda who was teaching us Arithmetic. There was no mathematics in primary school then. He was very good at it.
If there is a class I just do not remember much about it is my standard seven experiences. I do not know why. I do not have much to remember about this class. I do not however undermine the contributions of the teachers for this class then. As far as I can remember this is the year when my primary school grades were the worst I think. It was my entire fault.
I remember Mr Mlamba my standard 8 English teacher. This man was a teacher. He motivated me a lot. He spoke fluent English with a very nice accent. He was a confident man proud of his efforts and his knowledge. Who did not like him? I scored well in his composition exams. I usually emerged the best. He also spoke French. When you got some question right or wrong he would respond with French expressions that sunk in all of us that we were able to make out their meanings by ourselves. Mr Mlamba was also a nice singer. I was told he weekly sung in church with his wife.
1995 is the year I remembered also. I got into secondary school that year to take new challenges and the new teachers that come with them. I met Mr Medi the junior secondary English and Biology teacher. He was good. He was bold and confident in his lesson delivery.
I remember Mrs Yiwombe, one of the great teachers in my life. She taught us Geography from Form one through Four. She was just in a class of her own. She retired in 1999 after seeing us through out of the whole secondary school. Apart from her excellent communication her lessons were usually packed with pieces of advice pointing to real hard work that revealed the reality of life in the prime of our innocence about life.
I remember Mr. Charles P. Inani my form two History teacher. He awakened the quest of catching up with current affairs and international issues through the stories that accompanied his lessons. He provoked in me the curiosity that always gets me to newspapers and TV news channels.
I remember Mr Chithonje the senior secondary English teacher who awakened a sense of critical thinking through his literature classes. He helped me start appreciating the value of raising questions and embark on an own search for answers. He helped me develop love for the beauty of literature.
I remember Mr Nkhata the senior secondary Mathematics teacher. He was sharp. He easily explained the stuff so long as you chose to be attentive.
I also remember Mr. Leslie the VSO volunteer teacher who simplified Biology in his lessons. He was a dedicated young man. We heard that he was only 19 when he started teaching us in form 3 in 1998 through to form 4 in 1999. We did not verify it but it was stronger than usual rumour. I will remember him particularly for simplifying otherwise intimidating concepts and subjects in biology.
From 2000 till 2004 I read for my bachelor’s degree at University of Malawi’s Chancellor College. There were also great men and women who inspired me. However most of such already have names and titles and society generally appropriately recognises them. Hidden from the scene though are the many teachers who did not have a name established for themselves, yet I bear and represent traces of their hard work and commitment.
Pausing and sparing a thought for such great children of Malawi is refreshing and gets you to the conclusion: I have come from very far to graduate today at Linköpings Universitet, Sweden. Some of these probably might have passed on. But they were gallant sons and daughters of Malawi.
The process of reflection is awesome. I have been reflecting myself about the past of late. Today 9th June 2009 the Year of Our Lord I have just graduated with a Master of Applied Ethics at Linköpings Universitet, Sweden. It is awesome. Minus the tribute I wrote on 15th March 2009 about my late great dad I discovered there are many and many more people I both remember and have to remember to have put me and kept me on course. This is the course whose very rail has helped me get this far. They made great contributions. They might not have known it neither been known themselves. Today I paused and was soon remembering some outstanding people who inspired me.
I remember that young beautiful and decent female teacher whose name I just cannot remember. The year was 1987. I was only 5years then and was doing my standard one class. She was very kind to me. She was assuring and gave me a sense of security at the school. She was also a friend of my mother herself a teacher at the same school, Kasungu L.E.A. School.
In pausing to reflect I remembered my new school at then the new and modern Kasungu Demonstration Primary School in 1989 when I was seven and started my standard 3 class. I remember Mrs Kasakula our STD 3 teacher. She had long hair. She never shouted but always spoke softly in her teaching. She was quiet and spoke in a tender tone. I do not remember seeing her angry and mad at a pupil. She had rare talents as I now realise. I liked her. I was sure even if I made a mistake in class she would take it wisely and treated us with dignity. I now realise pupils and children might not know what respecting human dignity even in the under-aged is all about. These are too abstract terms to be comprehended by their immaure minds. Yet one should never be misled into assuming they do not feel it as everybody else when their dignity is undermined. They know it best. In my memory’s eye I can see her teaching her us how to read a clock and tell the time. She was great.
I remember Mrs Mateche Banda our Standard 4 teacher. Unlike Mrs Kasakula she was not a quiet personality. She liked talking. Never take this for a weakness or a dent. It suited her well. We all liked what she talked about and how she did. I can say she was probably the other of the two motherly teachers I have met in life. I can actually remember that she is the first teacher who started giving us advice as to how we were to live a worthwhile life. She was just a mother. Whenever you messed up or misbehaved you knew she would sure punish you. However we knew that her punishment was always out of love. We did not hate her for that. She interacted nicely with us and the sense of a family was unmistakable.
In the course of my reflection I remembered about my Standard five experiences. I remember Mrs Chauma our teacher. She was, just as Mrs Mateche, motherly. She was hard working. She was kind. She was scarcely angry but spoke kindly and gently and usually in a pleading tone. She could arrange extra lessons in the afternoon. She taught us geography and about Malawi’s neighbours. That is how I first learnt the meaning of the word neighbour. She taught us of deciduous and evergreen trees and why they behave such. That was when I was ten. I can remember.
Getting to standard six I remember Mr Gerald Kasekani Banda who was teaching us Arithmetic. There was no mathematics in primary school then. He was very good at it.
If there is a class I just do not remember much about it is my standard seven experiences. I do not know why. I do not have much to remember about this class. I do not however undermine the contributions of the teachers for this class then. As far as I can remember this is the year when my primary school grades were the worst I think. It was my entire fault.
I remember Mr Mlamba my standard 8 English teacher. This man was a teacher. He motivated me a lot. He spoke fluent English with a very nice accent. He was a confident man proud of his efforts and his knowledge. Who did not like him? I scored well in his composition exams. I usually emerged the best. He also spoke French. When you got some question right or wrong he would respond with French expressions that sunk in all of us that we were able to make out their meanings by ourselves. Mr Mlamba was also a nice singer. I was told he weekly sung in church with his wife.
1995 is the year I remembered also. I got into secondary school that year to take new challenges and the new teachers that come with them. I met Mr Medi the junior secondary English and Biology teacher. He was good. He was bold and confident in his lesson delivery.
I remember Mrs Yiwombe, one of the great teachers in my life. She taught us Geography from Form one through Four. She was just in a class of her own. She retired in 1999 after seeing us through out of the whole secondary school. Apart from her excellent communication her lessons were usually packed with pieces of advice pointing to real hard work that revealed the reality of life in the prime of our innocence about life.
I remember Mr. Charles P. Inani my form two History teacher. He awakened the quest of catching up with current affairs and international issues through the stories that accompanied his lessons. He provoked in me the curiosity that always gets me to newspapers and TV news channels.
I remember Mr Chithonje the senior secondary English teacher who awakened a sense of critical thinking through his literature classes. He helped me start appreciating the value of raising questions and embark on an own search for answers. He helped me develop love for the beauty of literature.
I remember Mr Nkhata the senior secondary Mathematics teacher. He was sharp. He easily explained the stuff so long as you chose to be attentive.
I also remember Mr. Leslie the VSO volunteer teacher who simplified Biology in his lessons. He was a dedicated young man. We heard that he was only 19 when he started teaching us in form 3 in 1998 through to form 4 in 1999. We did not verify it but it was stronger than usual rumour. I will remember him particularly for simplifying otherwise intimidating concepts and subjects in biology.
From 2000 till 2004 I read for my bachelor’s degree at University of Malawi’s Chancellor College. There were also great men and women who inspired me. However most of such already have names and titles and society generally appropriately recognises them. Hidden from the scene though are the many teachers who did not have a name established for themselves, yet I bear and represent traces of their hard work and commitment.
Pausing and sparing a thought for such great children of Malawi is refreshing and gets you to the conclusion: I have come from very far to graduate today at Linköpings Universitet, Sweden. Some of these probably might have passed on. But they were gallant sons and daughters of Malawi.
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