I am still angry at the headmaster for humiliating me over fees payments
Jun 01, 2010
FOR purposes of this story, I will call myself Cyprian Kibirige. I went through a lot to get an education. I am the third-born in a family of three girls and two boys. My father used to work in an insurance company and my mother is a nurse.
FOR purposes of this story, I will call myself Cyprian Kibirige. I went through a lot to get an education. I am the third-born in a family of three girls and two boys. My father used to work in an insurance company and my mother is a nurse.
When my father was still alive, we lived an affluent lifestyle, but things changed after my dad’s death in a road accident in March 1989. Although my mum was also earning an income, dad was the sole bread winner. In addition to his job, he had a commuter taxi plying the Jinja–Kampala route. Three months after his death, the taxi was involved in a tragic road accident and reduced to a wreck.
Reality then dawned on us that dad was no more. The family burden began to weigh heavily on mum. Her paycheck was stretched to breaking point. It began with paying just a quarter of each child’s school fees, to not being able to pay at all. I was in P6, my brother in S1. I had a sister in S2 and my younger sisters were in primary.
The relatives whom dad used to help began to see us like strangers as mum struggled to make ends meet. My dad used to pay fees in time, but now things were different. I was in a day school while my younger sisters were in different boarding schools.
I still remember the torture I went through when mum failed to raise the sh70,000 school fee balances for two consecutive terms. The headmaster would walk to our class with a long list of fees defaulters.
“If you know your name is on this list, stand up, pick your bag and walk out,†he would shout. “I don’t want to see you in this compound. If you remain hanging around here, you will not come to class and you will not take lunch.â€
I would find it difficult to pick my bag and go back home. There was nobody at home since mum would go to work early in the morning and return late in the evening. The rest of my siblings were in boarding school. I was the only one in day school because I had health problems and mum had to monitor me.
As the days went by, some of my fellow defaulters (as we used to be branded) were struck off the headmaster’s list after their parents cleared the balance. I remained alone in my class with three others from lower classes.
Life became unbearable. I would sneak into school and ensure the headmaster did not see me. The names of defaulters were pinned everywhere in classes, the staff room and dining hall. Some children would ask me why I was in school illegally. One day my luck ran out in the dining hall. The headmaster nabbed me and ordered the security and cooks to throw me out if ever I appeared on the compound. My friends watched me being pushed through the gate like a thief. It was humiliating and I have not recovered from the experience.
It was approaching second term exam time and I did not want to miss exams. In spite of this experience, the teachers liked me because I was relatively bright. Day one of exam, I sneaked into class to sit for the maths paper. Twenty five minutes into the paper, the headmaster walked in with his dreaded list. My heart sank and beads of sweat appeared on my forehead. He called my name and this time asked me to follow him to his office with my bag. He gave me four strokes of the cane before warning me not appear on the compound again.
As soon as I walked out of the gate, it started raining. Our home was a 20-minute walk from school. I cried and asked God why he had to take my dad. All the doors at home were locked and I had to wait for mum to return at 5:00pm. I would cry, doze off, wake up and continue crying from the verandah.
When mum returned, I explained the incident to her and she too broke down.
That term I missed exams. God blessed me the following term when a sympathetic teacher cleared my balance and I resumed studies in third term.
Luckily, mum landed a lucrative job with an NGO and life got better. Using her new income and with loans, she opened a side business and paid our fees up to university.
I have not forgiven my primary school headmaster for the humiliation and the torture. Why did he have to make life hard just because my mother had failed to raise fees? Did he know that it was not my wish for dad to die when I was young?
Nobody remains in poverty forever and the teachers need to know that those fees defaulters are the tycoons of tomorrow.
I am now married with two children. I studied business administration at university and I am working as a finance manager in Kampala.
In spite of my success, I am still bitter and I pray this insensitive way of handling poor children changes.
I lived in fear
Call me Matilda Arao. I am 20 years old. I was born to an Acholi mother and a Munyoro father who abandoned us when I was one-month-old in 1990, and has never come back. I do not know him or his whereabouts. I hear he is still alive.
My mother was still in college when I was born. She continued with her studies as an aunt took care of me. Sometimes my aunt would neglect me or beat me severely.
I went back to stay with my mother as soon as she completed her studies. My mother got married to a man who had older children from his previous relationship. They were not friendly to me at all. My stepfather would occasionally pay my school fees after he had provided everything for his children. My mother was the source of everything.
Unfortunately, my stepfather passed away after a short illness. I was in secondary school then. All his children were distributed to different relatives. My mother remained with her children.
Even before his death, I had always had fees problems. My fees were only paid after my siblings’ had been cleared. I was in a boarding school and sometimes lacked basic necessities like soap and sugar for a whole term. My mother would pay my fees only after paying fees for my younger siblings. I was sent away from school on a regular basis. This traumatised me and I was afraid to be called out of class and sent away in front of my fellow students.
It also made me uncomfortable because every child knew me as a ‘fees defaulter.’ This actually reduced me to a laughing stock. To some of my classmates, it looked like I was given fees to pay, but I squandered it.
By the time I was sitting for my A’level finals, I had not paid a single coin. I had accumulated balance from the previous terms. Even in the exam room, I was unsettled and afraid. This is because ‘defaulters’ were always chased out of the exam room 20 minutes into the paper. I survived the wrath of the headteacher and managed to score 11 points. I still feel like I would have performed better if it were not for the fees problem. I would have been in a public university by now.
The experience wounded my self-esteem. Although it hurt, I do not blame anybody for what I went through. I still do not have fees to continue with my education, but I believe God has something better for the future.
As told to Jamesa Wagwau
When my father was still alive, we lived an affluent lifestyle, but things changed after my dad’s death in a road accident in March 1989. Although my mum was also earning an income, dad was the sole bread winner. In addition to his job, he had a commuter taxi plying the Jinja–Kampala route. Three months after his death, the taxi was involved in a tragic road accident and reduced to a wreck.
Reality then dawned on us that dad was no more. The family burden began to weigh heavily on mum. Her paycheck was stretched to breaking point. It began with paying just a quarter of each child’s school fees, to not being able to pay at all. I was in P6, my brother in S1. I had a sister in S2 and my younger sisters were in primary.
The relatives whom dad used to help began to see us like strangers as mum struggled to make ends meet. My dad used to pay fees in time, but now things were different. I was in a day school while my younger sisters were in different boarding schools.
I still remember the torture I went through when mum failed to raise the sh70,000 school fee balances for two consecutive terms. The headmaster would walk to our class with a long list of fees defaulters.
“If you know your name is on this list, stand up, pick your bag and walk out,†he would shout. “I don’t want to see you in this compound. If you remain hanging around here, you will not come to class and you will not take lunch.â€
I would find it difficult to pick my bag and go back home. There was nobody at home since mum would go to work early in the morning and return late in the evening. The rest of my siblings were in boarding school. I was the only one in day school because I had health problems and mum had to monitor me.
As the days went by, some of my fellow defaulters (as we used to be branded) were struck off the headmaster’s list after their parents cleared the balance. I remained alone in my class with three others from lower classes.
Life became unbearable. I would sneak into school and ensure the headmaster did not see me. The names of defaulters were pinned everywhere in classes, the staff room and dining hall. Some children would ask me why I was in school illegally. One day my luck ran out in the dining hall. The headmaster nabbed me and ordered the security and cooks to throw me out if ever I appeared on the compound. My friends watched me being pushed through the gate like a thief. It was humiliating and I have not recovered from the experience.
It was approaching second term exam time and I did not want to miss exams. In spite of this experience, the teachers liked me because I was relatively bright. Day one of exam, I sneaked into class to sit for the maths paper. Twenty five minutes into the paper, the headmaster walked in with his dreaded list. My heart sank and beads of sweat appeared on my forehead. He called my name and this time asked me to follow him to his office with my bag. He gave me four strokes of the cane before warning me not appear on the compound again.
As soon as I walked out of the gate, it started raining. Our home was a 20-minute walk from school. I cried and asked God why he had to take my dad. All the doors at home were locked and I had to wait for mum to return at 5:00pm. I would cry, doze off, wake up and continue crying from the verandah.
When mum returned, I explained the incident to her and she too broke down.
That term I missed exams. God blessed me the following term when a sympathetic teacher cleared my balance and I resumed studies in third term.
Luckily, mum landed a lucrative job with an NGO and life got better. Using her new income and with loans, she opened a side business and paid our fees up to university.
I have not forgiven my primary school headmaster for the humiliation and the torture. Why did he have to make life hard just because my mother had failed to raise fees? Did he know that it was not my wish for dad to die when I was young?
Nobody remains in poverty forever and the teachers need to know that those fees defaulters are the tycoons of tomorrow.
I am now married with two children. I studied business administration at university and I am working as a finance manager in Kampala.
In spite of my success, I am still bitter and I pray this insensitive way of handling poor children changes.
I lived in fear
Call me Matilda Arao. I am 20 years old. I was born to an Acholi mother and a Munyoro father who abandoned us when I was one-month-old in 1990, and has never come back. I do not know him or his whereabouts. I hear he is still alive.
My mother was still in college when I was born. She continued with her studies as an aunt took care of me. Sometimes my aunt would neglect me or beat me severely.
I went back to stay with my mother as soon as she completed her studies. My mother got married to a man who had older children from his previous relationship. They were not friendly to me at all. My stepfather would occasionally pay my school fees after he had provided everything for his children. My mother was the source of everything.
Unfortunately, my stepfather passed away after a short illness. I was in secondary school then. All his children were distributed to different relatives. My mother remained with her children.
Even before his death, I had always had fees problems. My fees were only paid after my siblings’ had been cleared. I was in a boarding school and sometimes lacked basic necessities like soap and sugar for a whole term. My mother would pay my fees only after paying fees for my younger siblings. I was sent away from school on a regular basis. This traumatised me and I was afraid to be called out of class and sent away in front of my fellow students.
It also made me uncomfortable because every child knew me as a ‘fees defaulter.’ This actually reduced me to a laughing stock. To some of my classmates, it looked like I was given fees to pay, but I squandered it.
By the time I was sitting for my A’level finals, I had not paid a single coin. I had accumulated balance from the previous terms. Even in the exam room, I was unsettled and afraid. This is because ‘defaulters’ were always chased out of the exam room 20 minutes into the paper. I survived the wrath of the headteacher and managed to score 11 points. I still feel like I would have performed better if it were not for the fees problem. I would have been in a public university by now.
The experience wounded my self-esteem. Although it hurt, I do not blame anybody for what I went through. I still do not have fees to continue with my education, but I believe God has something better for the future.
As told to Jamesa Wagwau