Open letter to my employer

DEAR treasured boss, As a teacher, I deeply care about the happiness and well-being of my country and its people. I have lived a joyful life since I took up this job. I like my job beyond words and for this noble cause; I find reasons to humbly say this to you. I have always exercised the highest standards for my country, expected of a patriot and I will constantly fight to attain nothing less of the best. That is the reason why I prevailed when I nearly spent a full year without payment. I only came to alert you when my landlord had deliberately thrown me out and that I was trying to find myself a secure place to stay. All I wanted was to find a way of executing my duty well.My 10-year old son has always had something to complain about. My constant assurance to him is that the situation will normalise and that he will soon join others at school. When he asked me about this unfriendly environment, I only calmed him down. ‘Patience pains but will finally pay.’ My patience has kept me plodding along all these years. I have worked under the scotching sun, not to mention the heavy rains that pour as if God has let out His last drops.Do you realise how you humiliated me in front of my students? I did not complain. I continued performing my noble duty of imparting knowledge to the young generation. Remember when students frog-matched me? I did not quit. To me, teaching is not only a job but also a calling.However, for the noble service I render to my nation, I am trampled upon. This brings my attention to the training workshop that kicked off recently. It was not the first of its kind.It was relatively a new style, a new song but with the same old dance. The only difference is where labour-force was imported from the rest of East Africa. A pretty smart move.It gives me reason to smile back. To be realistic, teachers make the world go round. All of a sudden, you leave me speechless. It would be too mean of you to invite visitors in your sitting room and you consequently decide to turn them away at the table. I grew up in a different cultural setting. In case a visitor found meals at the table, you were supposed to share the meal in the first place. Greetings and everything would come last. Starving a visitor plainly signifies chasing them away silently but surely. “We are not impressed at all. Indeed we never expected this!” a voice from my roommate scares the hell out of me! I’m afraid the visitor you invited is lamenting. That you either change your ways (more to that later) or else he boards the next bus tomorrow morning. My country is exceptionally famous for its remarkable generosity in the region, regardless of tribe, occupation, colour, name it. Why would my country be this much ashamed for cheap things? It’s so disgusting! I’m extremely worried the snail has found splinters in the shell and soon changing position. This is a bad image.In his book, ‘The Trouble with Nigeria,’ celebrated author Chinua Achebe deals with the question of who a patriot is.“He is a person who loves his country. He is not a person who says he loves his country. He is not even he who shouts, swears, recites, or sings the love of his country. That makes me who I am now. Given all the obstacles in my way, I will not crave for anything but serve my treasured country. Nevertheless, one major issue to remember boss, my roommate, and I are not country mates. He deserves due respect besides his occupation. The author is a teacher at Kagarama secondary school shebs10@yahoo.com