₦airaland Forum

Thank you all.

A lawyer only helps you out of cases He doesn't show you how to do it yourself
A doctor only cures you of illnesses He doesn't tell you how to get it done
An engineer only builds your machines He doesn't train you to build one
An author only writes good stories for you He doesn't guide you to make one
A manufacturer only produces goods for you He doesn't instruct you to make them yourself
A teacher only teaches you law, medicine and the rest And does show you how to be a lawyer, doctor and whatnot It's high time you thanked your teachers Who bring out the YOU that's in you And make a you of yourself.
Happy Teachers Day Dedicated to all Teachers

TEARS OF A TEACHER (A Must Read Short Story for Teachers Day)

Times are hard, though. But for her, it's harder. Her second child lies in the hospital, suffering from a disease the doctor called in Greek language. The eldest son is in the university, his fees still owing. Her husband ... well, he plays just the husband. And the government – her employer – would not pay her salaries for five months. The government claim that paying off workers' arrears for the last months will make the state's economy crumble. Yet her own life is shattered. Collapsed. And no one seems to care about that. When her creditor came knocking yesterday, she'd hidden herself under the bed.
"But will I forever hide here?", she'd panted breathlessly.
When Mike is sent back from school, which is likely to happen tomorrow or the day after. And when Hope is rejected from the hospital, soon or sooner. Will she lie here hiding all day long?
"Oh no", she sighs and sobs. She's sat on the chair weeping with her head bowed on the table. It just now occurs to her. Raising up her head, she sees some little boys and girls sitting on arranged chairs before her. No sooner has she set eyes on them than she cleans dry the tear drops that trickle down her cheeks. Some years back in College, she'd been taught that teachers shouldn't let out their bad side or emotion to their students. "It tells on learners' psychology and affects teaching-learning process." "What then should teachers do to their emotion when it arouses?", asked a guy sitting at an end. "They kill it and pretend that all is well. That's what teaching ethics dictate. And that's what a good teacher does, just for the sake of his pupils", the lecturer had explained.
This is just one more time she'll murder her feelings and pretend that all is well when indeed it's way far from it. It's all for the sake of these little, innocent learners. She gathers her cheeks and spreads them in a long, enticing smile. The kids look up to her and smile back. How many times has she buried sadness in her and put smiles in the faces of these future doctors and lawyers and presidents and..? Certainly, she has lost count.
"Dancing dancing I am dancing", she sings and dances as the future champions echo it after her and dance round about her. Future champions, future leaders, future pilots... That's what she calls her students.
They were singing"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" when the bell rang for closing hour. At the sound of the bell, the pupils yelled and switched to"Goodbye Teacher, Goodbye Friends"; waving their little hands at her as they trooped out of the class. She waved back at them, and gently, tears rolled down her face. Now, she did not weep because her son might come for his due fees. Or because she had lost all hope on Hope. Or because some powers-that-be deemed it good to treat her bad. No. She wept because her students were waving her goodbye; and they might well be gone for good. For ever. Without looking back at her when they become the champions she was training them to be.
Some of them would not stop the song until they reached home. The voices of these ones rang the lyrics, fainting as they went farther homeward:
...goo bye evybody we ya koin home
Goo bye ticha...
END
(It's time you looked back on your teachers. Happy Teachers Day)

Hello, fellow Nairalanders. I'm here to request for a poem titled ''POETRY IS'' by Niyi Osundare. I'd like it pasted by whoever has it. Thanks so much!!!

Every jack out there thinks they know what teachers do. Teachers talk. Teachers write. Teachers teach. Nothing more or less.

You think you know what teachers do. After all you sat in classes for a number of years. Thirteen straight years perhaps. You had your nursery teachers. Primary teachers. Secondary teachers. Social Studies teachers. Agric teachers. Maths teachers....

You know which teachers are good. Which teachers are bad. Which teachers suck. Which teachers change life for good. Which teachers change life for worse. And which teachers unchange life.

The teaching profession has no mystery. It has no mystique. No abracadabra. No hide-and-seek. It has no respect.

No! You are wrong. You don't know teachers. You just don't know that you don't know.

You need to honour teachers. You need to respect them. Listen to them. Praise them. You need to stop thinking you know what teaching is all about just by mere virtue of having once stayed in the class.

Simbi sat in class for years. Moved a bit higher. Got an NCE. A B.Ed. And an M.A in Education. Those 20 years didn't make her a teacher. Not even her MA.Ed. Until she became an expert. Until she was a professional. Until she knew how to inspire students, how to make a difference. Until she taught in the class. She never knew she didn't know what teachers do. Until she was a teacher; she wasn't a teacher.

But Ms Simbi still stays in her one-room apartment. Her 11 years in teaching cannot affor her a decent flat. She is paid. Poorly paid. And she commands no respect. Except the 'yes ma' she gets in class. And not beyond. Ms Simbi gets no dignity from anybody. Because everybody thinks they know what she does. Because she is a teacher.

Barrister Ali is a prestigious lawyer. He has practised law for 5 years. Six years as a law student had no more prepared him for the practice of law than 20 years of experience as a student had prepared Mrs Simbi to teach. He doesn't work as hard as Mrs Simbi. She works ten times harder. Maybe he works pretty much less.

But he earns big. Ten times more than Mrs Simbi. And he lives big. Gets more cash. More mansions. More cars. And more respect. Because law is a profession. Because law is a practice. Because nobody knows what practising law means. Because defending cases is a mystery to you.

But teaching is no mystery. Any jack can do teaching.

You are wrong!

All of you former students have no more idea of what it is to teach than you do of what it is to practice law. You did not design curricula, plan lessons, write lesson objectives, attend staff meetings, create exams, access papers, mark registers. You did not write on the chalkboard and simultaneously peeped at the naughty students who tried to sneak out the window.

You did not plan lessons that succeeded.
You did not plan lessons that failed.

You did not laugh --because you so desperately wanted to cry -- when you read the unmentionables on their exam papers. You did not weep helplessly because some faceless terrors had slaughtered a favorite student in Borno. Or faint because some of your students were kidnapped.

You did not. And you don't know. Maybe you learned. And perhaps you tutored. But you did not teach. No, you didn't!

The problem with the teaching profession is that every jack out there thinks they know what teachers do. So they prescribe. And condemn. And criticize. And theorize. And politicize.

They do not know.
They do not listen to those who know. The Teachers!

(Happy Teachers Day)

A Voice in the Wind by Francine Rivers. Didn't weep though, but was sad, so sad.

If you won't mind reading their ebook versions, you can download here: http://en.bookfi.org/s/?q=Adventure+of+tintin&t=0
Search for the other books in the sites's searchbox

I really am sorry for the data loss on this site. I wish the prob get sorted out sooner.
Throught with Txtn; A gr8 db8 by David Crystal. Fancy how texting started, where it just got to, its future fate or how d Chincos do it their own style using their complex logographic orthogtaphy or the universal influence in every chat language - d buk wl guv u mre dan enuf.
For now I'm on Francine River's A Voice in the Wind -Epub format, 21%. Can't wait to see what becomes of poor Hadassah, brave Artreres, naughty Julia, and the innocent slaves.
Burning against the brutal gladiator culture of the Romans for the mo.

Tor tor tor tor tor! Tooorr

Always proud of you, Son
Year in and out
You make me a Pride of Motherhood
Whose birthday celebs ever beats yours?
It's been topping the Guiness Inter-Planet Records since forever
No shaking; no dropping!

Carrying you in this womb was the best experience a woman could have
When Arch Gabriel said that you were to be a King
I thought he meant that your birth would be Noble
And would bring fortune to me and dear carpenter Jose
Until it all happened in a mere stinking manger
Ugh for the pungent doodies of those swines!
What King has a pen as his place of birth?


Then the heartless Herod sent us on our heels
All the way to Egypt and back
How you scared me to the breast!
When you went missing after the Temple Conference
I thought you'd gone naughty with Kushie, that nut who eyed and blinked at you always
But there you were talking senses into those pot-belly hypocrites
Dearie, you make me proud, really!

You made me proud at Cathrina's wedding in Cana
Those wonders and miracles were services to God and to Humanity
Those teachings would change the world forever
What else are the joys of Motherhood
Except that her seeds grow tall, wide, strong and famed?

If ever I craved for madness and death
It was at the period of your trials and execution
Your carrying that heavy Cross and agony
Was beyond that of delivering you at the Beth's Shed House
I thought all was lost at your death

But your Rising-Again
Made me regain all; even those that weren't lost
So proud of you, Son Jezzy
See what you made me in the Catholic world!


Here, Son, are my cheeks
Mark them with a kiss
Hmmmm, yeah, that's my Baby God
Wishing you Happy Birthday, Jesus!