admin
Fadzayi Maposah
There are some things that the 2000 or Y2K generation know nothing about.
When one tells them some of the things that happened when we were growing up, all they can do is roll their eyes, have them wide open and if they are on some electronic gadget simply insert an emoticon!
When I was young I basically believed that Shurugwi and Harare were very far apart.
What did you expect me to believe considering that if we were going by bus, we would be at Mbare Musika at the break of dawn to board a Marongwe bus that would take us to Shurugwi, either to Rockford where my mother MaNcube comes from or Chikato where my paternal grandmother, VaMaMoyo lived?
All I remember is that the night before the bus trip there was preparation of what we would eat on the bus as we would be at Mbare Musika before we had breakfast.
And because it was so early, only the older children would bath while the others would just freshen up.
I remember that the trip to Shurugwi was a full day`s trip. When we got kumusha, it would be very dark and among those who would come to the station to welcome us, always, there would be someone with a glass lantern.
KuRockford the bus station was right at the gate and everyone would come running to the bus for a resounding welcome. Then we would all trek home, get into the kitchen for lively greetings and shortly have supper. It was always supper.
Which is why I found it very hard to believe when going through my father, WaMambo`s old diaries, the distance table that showed the different towns and cities.
I grew up thinking that buses were very slow and that WaMambo was a very fast driver!
Another thing that the ama2000 generation cannot relate to is some of the punishments that we had to endure at school. I do not know where the children`s rights organisations were when some of these things were happening.
Children are not the same.
When I was in school some teachers were keen to ensure that everyone in their class passed.
These would push all the learners. For others it was not pushing because the subjects would be like second nature for them while for others who would be struggling it was a mammoth task.
Figures and I are not the best of friends. I can add so many figures mentally and get correct answers in a fraction of a second.
My teachers from junior school must have instilled that skill in me very well. I loved mental Maths and my marks in junior school were always wonderful.
Getting to high school and meeting equations that included letters and numbers was something for my brain that loves letters and words but struggled to add numbers to the letters!
I would just scrap through all the tests, occasionally failing to meet the mark.
Then there was accounts…My high school accounts teacher was a woman who explained the Principles of Accounts with so much zeal and passion but at times sadly I just missed the point.
I always marvel when accountants explain to me how simple the discipline is. All I say is give me William Shakespeare, Ngugi wa Thiongo or Chinua Achebe anytime!
The accounts teacher though would get annoyed and when she did, it was not good at all. If one did not pass her tests, one would get punished. If one did not do her homework, one would get punished. I always did the latter.
Regarding the former, all I can say is some days were good, some were not so good!
Her punishments varied.
On some days, learners were asked to leave the class. On some days she would just hit the hands and continue teaching. On some days she would be very mean!
In our first lesson she told us how she punished those who did not do as she wanted.
We just thought she meant to scare us. But believe you me, I am sure everyone she taught at some point endured her worst punishment.
There is an accounting firm in Zimbabwe that bears her surname.
Maybe because of her passion for accounts she went on to open an accounting firm. The name of that accounting firm makes me think of enduring her worst punishment.
My accounts teacher would make learners crawl, yes, you read right, on the school tarmac! I hope one day I will visit the school and measure the distance that we crawled!
Imagine what it was like crawling on that tarmac. Hands and knees got bruised, uniforms got dirty and the school shoes were damaged in the process. What was worse was knowing that others could see us we crawled …That was enough trauma, dented self-esteem.
Away from the class side, bathrooms were at the end of the dormitories when we began high school.
All chores were done by learners supervised by prefects and monitors. It was at high school that I learnt how to mop a floor without kneeling even if using a bucket and a swab.
That’s one skill that I have mastered and continue to do up to now!
Back to the bathroom story…The bathrooms would have some lights switched off at night, some dim effect.
One night, one of the girls missed the bin and the used `it` experience ware fell by the bin.
The first person to discover this was the adult who provided oversight to the dormitory.
It was a loud awakening.
Girls were instructed to stand in a single row until the last girl was by the bin. Then the adult gave the girl who was the furthest from the bin the used `it` experience ware and instructed that it be passed down the until the last girl dropped it into the bin.
Trauma, punishment and teaching a lesson do not have the same meaning . . .
Online Reporter