Part Two of Chapter One: Dry Tears Count Not

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“I am sorry to invade your space at this time of the night maam. I had to come have a word with you,” said Mokoena after realising that there was not going to be any communication if he did not lead the way. “I am here to discuss your son, Hector…” he continued.

“What happened to him sir? Is he fine? I am sitting here stressing about what may have befallen my poor son for him not to have returned home at this time of the night,” said Ntsakisi, who had to interject Mokoena due to anxiety that was slowly creeping in.

She was obviously not looking forward to hearing terrible news. It could not be. That would cripple her whole body and freeze all her body organs. She moistened her lips while looking straight at the teacher, hoping he saves the day by telling her that her son was all but okay.

“Forgive me maam. I am not a bearer of bad news here. I was not even aware that Hector is not in the house yet. I am here in my capacity as his teacher to discuss his school work,” said Mokoena with a soft yet confident voice.

“I am sorry to come at this time of the day,” he continued. “I had just decided to visit my friend who stays in town and on my way back I saw it conveniently fit to pass by and greet, after noticing that the lights were still on. My apologies.”

“Not a problem sir. I even forgot to greet you. How are you?” said Ntsakisi.

“ I am fine thanks maam. Thanks for letting me in,” replied Mokoena.

“I am also glad that you are not bringing dreadful news. I am not ready for such news. Otherwise this heart would stop ticking immediately. It has seen enough and it cannot take the bullet anymore. I may not be too old but I have seen the worst in my short lifetime,” remarked Ntsakisi with a short grin that represented a sense of welcomed relief.

Mokoena’s voice was a grand contradiction of his stature. He was a very big man yet his voice would fit in well in the soprano group in a church choir. It was too soft and bit squeaky for a man that gigantic. A man who would just look at a lion in the eye and order it to run away.

In spite of his no-nonsense approach to life issues, Mokoena was a well-respected man at both his school and community. A teacher who loved his work. He would laugh if the need arises, and act all serious when circumstances dictated so. In his nine years of teaching, Mokoena had seen it all. He was reprimanded by the provincial education department on numerous occasions on his approach to child discipline. Contrary to the law of the country, which totally abolishes corporal punishment, Mokoena was one teacher who would occasionally apply corporal punishment to his learners. “I cannot be part of the generation of parents who contribute to ill-discipline by sparing children the rod. They need to learn at a young age that ill-discipline cannot be tolerated.” He would often say.

Despite the serious face, Mokoena was an eligible bachelor. At the age of 40, many people and relatives had expected him to have settled down and have his own family. But that was just the Mokoena they wished for, not the real one. He was single and still stayed alone. He was not one to be convinced to tie the knot. Not by anyone.

“So, tell me sir. What do you want to discuss about Hector’s school work? Is he underperforming?” asked Ntsakisi.

“Not at all maam. Hector is one of the best performing learners in my class. He is an exceptional case,” replied Mokoena. “I just came here to see the woman who gave birth to him so I could give her a pat on the back for making my job easier,” he continued with a faint giggle.

“I am happy to hear that. He is doing well indeed. He took after his father I guess. Samson was such an intelligent man. More intelligent than many men in this area. Even the local headmaster knew that with him around, there was no community issue that was impossible to unscramble,” said Ntsakisi. Her face beaming with confidence and pride to prove that she knew what she was talking about.

“He sure was… He must have been very intelligent,” reacted Mokoena with a dejected voice.

The poor teacher immediately directed his eyes to the surface: an unconscious sign of defeat and disappointment. For a second he regretted visiting the household. As it is the case with all men, Mokoena became uncomfortable listening to a woman praising her husband, in his presence. Worse, it was not just a husband, but a husband who had passed on. How unintelligent could he be to be outshined by a departed soul? Mokoena asked himself in vain. His heart started beating furiously. His soul was extremely wounded but his face partially succeeded in trying to contain and hide the inner pain. It became self-evident that Ntsakisi’s praise for her late husband had pierced the heart of Mokoena and successfully stripped him of his manhood.

His mind immediately became very busy. It embarked on a racing competition with itself. Mokoena was having silent conversations with himself. ‘Yes, Samson may have been an intelligent man, but he was just a construction worker. Mokoena is a teacher. An educated somebody’. He said to himself just to resuscitate his fading status.

“So sir,” said Ntsakisi, whose words awoken Mokoena from his forged sleep, “Are you satisfied with Hector’s performance? Are there areas he needs to improve in?”

“No. I mean… yes. Yes he is doing a great job. Very great job and everything is balanced. He just needs to keep going,” said Mokoena, whose short slumber almost exposed him.

“I am glad to hear that sir. With a teacher like you, he surely is going places. I am very thankful. I have heard a lot about you. I guess all the stories are true based on our conversation and your voluntary move to come and check on your favourite learner. May God bless you sir,” she said with an innocent smile.

Her words shot straight to Mokoena’s heart and suddenly revived the wounded ego in him. He felt special, all of a sudden. He felt big, not only in stature but also in spirit. These were not only sweet words directed to him, but words coming from a woman. Priceless.

“Thank you for your kindness maam, I am really…”

His words were cut short by an opening door. It was Hector. He looked amazed at seeing his teacher in his own house. What could he have done? He thought. At the back of his mind he knew he was not a troublesome boy. But what if he is being accused of something that he never did? He sat on a chair next to his teacher and extended his right hand to greet him.

“Good evening sir. I was not expecting to see you here,” he said. He then turned to his mother and asked: “Everything okay mama?”

“Yes son,” said Ntsakisi with a smile of both joy and relief to see her son back at home. “Your teacher just came to greet us. He must definitely be on his way out now. It is getting late.”

“Yes Hector. I need to get going,” said Mokoena, preparing to stand up. I just came to say ‘hallo’ to my favourite learner, and unfortunately you got home at the time when I was about to leave. Good night, young man.”

“Good night, sir,” replied Hector.

Mokoena opened the door, looked at Hector, then at Ntsakisi. He smiled, waved and submitted himself to the outside darkness..

(To be continued)