Source(pexels)
We were in the classroom chatting and laughing as always when there was no class. But the atmosphere suddenly got tense when Mr. Adewale walked into the classroom. Mr. Adewale is our literature teacher who has strict rules for his students: attend his classes early and buy the literary texts. and don't drink water in his class. One noticeably good thing about him is his sense of humor while teaching. He is good at teaching because he always takes time to elaborate on what needs to be elaborated.
Normally, we always feel this weird tension whenever he walks into the classroom because we know that before the end of that section, someone will get severely punished. He is a combination of strict and mild. Always strict and rarely lenient.
Today's atmosphere was just different. Dressed in his suit and big trousers, he walked arrogantly into the classroom and gave his note to the class representative to copy on the board. When we were done copying, he explained the note in the most melancholy way since the note was a poem analysis about the struggle of women in a male-dominated society. Though the poem is sad itself, it seems Mr. Adewale was sadder. Yeah!! When talking about something sad, your expression has to show it to your audience, but something about him was off. He no longer looked domineering while explaining, and we doubted it had anything to do with the poem.
At the end of the class, he finally spilled the beans. Surely!! We were right about his expression; it wasn't because of the poem. He had been transferred, and today was his last day teaching us. For our first time seeing him look this sad and come to talk of it, he was that way because he was going to miss teaching us and the school as well. He said, "You children are the most stubborn and intelligent students I've ever taught, and I believe you will all emerge great as I know. I did remarkable work on you all." That's Mr. Adewale for you. One time, he sounds sweet and encouraging, and boom!! concludes with arrogance!!.
Honestly, we couldn't express our feelings, as we had mixed feelings. We were sort of happy that there would be no one to give us the kind of punishment he gives, and we were sad because we were used to his teaching. I mean, he was good at teaching. If Mr. Adewale teaches you literature and you don't understand a thing, then you are probably dumb. He could expatiate, and he usually makes us act out the plays we read and recites the poems we were taught. Apart from being harsh on us whenever we broke his rules, Mr. Adewale was the best teacher we ever had. We were going to miss him. In fact, the moment he broke the news to us, we already started missing him.
After two days of Mr. Adewale's transferral, the new literature teacher started teaching us. Her class was somewhat boring. There was no life to her teaching. She couldn't explain notes the way Mr. Adewale did. Due to that, most students started skipping her classes. We use her period in the library to teach ourselves the way our former teacher did. We acted the new plays we read and recited the poems according to how we were taught.
After a month, the new teacher brought a rule. A time book rule and attendance rule for those who attend her class. Though we wanted to defy the rule, we could not because our 20 marks came from there. Still, attending the classes was more like missing it because of its dryness. She thought those who skipped her classes would perform poorly during the second test and exams, but, to her dismay, we performed excellently well.
Mr. Adewale may have been transferred, but his teaching still lives within us. We love him, and we still performed well in all our exams, including the SSCE exams, and our school was rated the best for producing the best literature students of the year. All thanks to Mr. Adewale.