Beryl Wanga on Facebook has written a brilliant viral post on who is to blame for the chaos in our schools and society in general.
In a little under 1700 words, Beryl traces the problem back to the parents.
Read and share.
As I sit here lying in my final resting place, I hear my friends laughing and singing songs that have no tunes. My relatives are still mourning their loss. “He died a premature death, just when he was at his prime”, That is what everyone said during my eulogy. I gnashed my cold teeth and cringed in anger, reason, THEY KILLED ME! My people killed me. Let me tell you about my childhood.
I was born in a family of three children and was the first born. My parents were both career people and worked hard in order to give us better lives. At least that is what they said. At an early age, we were left in the humble hands of our house help. My mother always left the house before dawn and came back after dusk. Reason, apart from being a career woman, she was a student. Oooh yes, she was pursuing her masters and after that she went for her PHD and after that she enrolled for something else. I just can’t remember all her titles. All I remember is that after work she would go to class and come when we were either dozing off or already asleep. I am a talented artist but trust me, as I lay here today, none of my relatives has an idea that I can draw, of course except for our then house help who always scolded me for drawing on the walls in our house.
I remember she one day pinched me after I repeatedly drew on the wall using charcoal even after she asked me not to. When my mother came back that evening, I told on her and my mother almost slapped her. “Never ever lay your hands on my children. Report them to me for punishing anytime they go astray. I will punish them myself” She shouted. What she did not know was that she always came back after we were asleep and there was no way she was going to wake us up for punishment, nooo not her us, not her heartbeats as she referred to us. Our house help did not even stay long after that because she one day scolded my brother for spanking her. That day my mother went berserk! She posted on social media how our house help had scolded my brother for spanking her and yet she was the one who was moping the house while bending on my brother’s path and because my brother was short, the only place he could reach to get her attention was her behind which he spanked. My mother’s ‘army’ on social media was up in arms advising my mother to fire our good house help. “Fire her! Fire her! No one lays a finger on my children in my house! The children are the reason I pay her!”
Such are the comments that my mother received. She did not think twice, that evening, she came back and fired Lucy. As if that was no enough, she splashed her photos on social media claiming she was a child barterer and anyone should employ her at their own risk. After Lucy, came Jane, then Irene, then Grace, then another Lucy, at some point we were even checked in at a daycare!
My father on the hand was another one. The only time he was with us was on Sundays when driving us to and from church. After church, he would take us out for lunch in one of the porsh joints and my mother would click away using her expensive phone then upload the photos on social media with the hashtags #FamilyTings #Hubbymanenos #Mymunchkins #GodWin . Did I read #GodWin? Her friends would like and comment on the photos exclaiming at how closely knit my family was. Ahem, it was a close family indeed.
Once we started going to school, things were not any different. My parents gave our teachers a stern warning NEVER to lay a finger on us unless they shared her labour pains. I had a smooth ride during my school days. Sometimes I would go back home with assignments I knew nothing about because I was a truant student and my mother, my all time savior would do it all for me. The next day, I would go to school and my teacher would mark my assignment and grade me so well about something I did not even understand thanks to my parents. My teachers withdrew from disciplining me. Not just me, but almost 90% of my classmates. It’s like all our parents were reading from the same script. “Do not dare lay a finger on my baby”. Did I tell you I was a baby all through campus? Now you know!
One time, I was sleeping in class, not because I was sick but because I had slept at 2am the previous night watching TV. After all my mother had given me the go ahead as long as I was through with my homework which she always did anyway! My teacher became concerned and asked why I was sleeping. My answer, “What do I do when sleepy?” .
It automatically landed me a slap on my chubby cheek! That evening I went back home and waited for my mother to arrive, when she did, I quickly told her what had transpired in school. I was 13 years then, a teenager. She did not even care what time it was, she called my teacher and gave her a piece of her mind. I cannot remember all she said but at least I can remember her last words, “Madam, your work is to teach and go back home. Don’t terrorize our children!” The following day, she drove me to school and caused a scene in our class and threatened to sue my teacher if she ever laid her hand on me again. By the time she was leaving, I was sitting on my desk like a boss smiling at how powerful my parents were! Indeed, the hash tag #GodWin was worth it!
When I finally sat for my final examination to join high school, I failed terribly! My parent’s first reaction was to badmouth my primary school claiming the teachers were not qualified. Again, on social media, my former school suffered terrible hash tags since she was not alone in this! Since my parents were making good money, they managed to buy me a place in a very good high school. It did not take me long to get into trouble with the management, just don’t ask me why. I was doing all the wrong things and my parents were ever present to defend my tooth and nail! In fact, they instead blamed the school for my wrongs! Again, I always emerged the winner and like a boss, carried the day.
I joined bad company and before long, I was among those organizing school strikes. One time, I was among those who burnt down our dormitories and this time, not just my parents but the whole nation was up in arms blaming someone else for my actions. I can’t quiet remember who took the blame; all I know is that everyone said I was innocent. With that, I managed to stay in school and do my final exam.
My parents enrolled me in an expensive university immediately even with my poor grades! Before long, I was sitting in a lecture hall pursuing Auctorial Science even though I did not even understand a word of it. Because of my lack of concentration in class and a crazy lifestyle that I already had, I was always ready to experiment different things be it good or bad. That is how I ended up owning a gun and terrorizing people for fun. Please, do not ask me how I got hold of the gun; I am my parent’s baby for Pete’s sake! A baby is always innocent!
It did not take long before I was gunned down by the long arm of the law one night after I tried carjacking a bus. I had no gun on that day, I had rented it out to a former classmate in high school, he wanted to take care of some business. I was high on drugs the day I tried carjacking the bus and the drugs in my head made me think my phone was a gun! I rose from my seat, held my phone in my hand, pointed it at other passengers and ordered them to surrender their belonging. All I can remember was a hot slap on my chubby cheeks again, the cheeks my parents warned everyone never to lay hands on! Then everyone descended on me and I was thrown out and beaten senseless before the police came and finished me with several bullets.
The funny part is that again, even in death, the human rights group chanted slogans about my innocence! “They killed an innocent boy” They claimed. But that was not going to bring me back to life! My parents were broken; my friends who are now drunk and singing songs with no tunes next to my fresh grave were shaken for a day or two but went back to their crazy lifestyles later.
As I lie this evening in my final resting place, still innocent as a baby, I still do not know who to blame for my lifestyle and death. My parents are in the house, having a meeting with a lawyer already and are planning to sue the police who gunned me down. They are going to pay him heftily for his services. They have a lot of money you know. Remember they spent all their lives working and studying forgetting to play their roles as parents. They planned to spend the money on their children. Look at how they are spening it now. Unfortunately, I am gone, just like that, and in the eyes of the world, I died innocent.
INNOCENT BOY, INNOCENT SON, HERE LIES THE INNOCENT BABY!
By Beryl Wanga