The local town hall was our lecture venue. Our non-governmental Organisation, established and funded by a revered community leader had put together a series of free tutorials for indigenes and residents of the local community.

It was an opportunity, according to our founder, to give back to the same community that had assisted him through his formative years and structured him into the sinews of socialisation.

The tutorial meetings were ahead of the annual UTME. The town hall was an imposing edifice with multiple rooms. Layered into upper and lower sections, the vast hall had an impressive array of smaller rooms, which formed labyrinthine contours across the length and breadth of the surrounding.

My government classes were strictly for government. As a young university undergraduate who was basically engaged in tutorial classes to make ends meet, I had no time for teacher-student predatory romps.

I was particularly interested in the cognitive development of my students, with the ultimate aim of trailblazing success in the upcoming UTME. Hence, my classes were an equitable plurality of government lessons and moral snippets.

So I thought, until one memorable instance, when Sophia and Sonia walked into my class and shattered my professional credos, into smithereens.

“Good morning students. Our topic for today would be Political Party Systems in Nigeria”.

With pedagogical skills of interaction and inductive questioning techniques, I taught my students. And they engaged me like brilliant learners.

“To conclude this class, can we have questions from three students……. “

“Good morning “, I was cut short by the sweet, sonorous, unified voices. I turned towards the direction of the voices. And there they were, two young, delectable ladies, excitingly etched in eructating sexual elan.

My job as U.T.M.E tutor meant I came across several ladies on daily basis. But none matched the beautiful pair walking across me. While I was astounded at the ravishing beauties that casually strolled into our class, I was more exasperated at the audacity of their petulance.

There was a prescribed code of conduct inscribed on the class door: Late comers, please Stay back! Apparently they had seen this very vivid inscription. Yet, they called my bluff. My masterly instinct, for once, would have none of such impertinence.

“Hello there! Are you ladies aware you are walking into this class at an odd moment. That is highly disrespectful of you both and you should take your leave immediately, else I will walk out of here and that will surely mark the end of my classroom engagements with the class”, I thundered.

Give me high 5.

We are considering giving you an award for this

Wen buhari come for u na...dem go say him wicked.

1310tenn:
[s][/s]

Wasted effort.

Chai

You should consider teaching English not govt