My Travail With Education

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Between the time I was in primary 1 and 2, if you had walked into my class and said “if you know you are dull, please raise your hands” my hands would have probably been the first to go up. I was so dull that between primary 1 and 3 the only thing I ever remember learning in school was the direction to the assembly ground and on occasion I would still get lost. As far as reading writing, I learnt how to read by struggling to read all the signboards I could find on my way to and from school and church and most times I would ask my mum and this was around primary two. As far as writing I am still not sure I know how to write (which is part of why I do this) especially because my hand writing still looks like chicken scratch.

 

By the time I was in primary 4, I had moved from 40 something in class to 10 position. Maybe it was the fact that I changed schools, I really don’t know. In primary 5 I wrote  the common entrance exams and my teachers suggested to my parents they take me to secondary school. That didn’t work. I also never seemed to be able to pass 5th position for some strange reason no matter how much I read, how well I drew or painted or even how much I copied. (Don’t worry I found Jesus and stopped copying a long time ago). 

 

In secondary school, the biggest threat to my academic life were Maths and Igbo especially Igbo I mean maths. In SS2 I failed Igbo so well that the teacher called me to continue from where I stopped in the exam. She would bring my actual script and just give me to continue, this happened in all three terms. I vaguely remember her giving me the Igbo text book to even read before I ‘continued’ my exams. The best part was My grade was still whatever was immediately before an F. 

 

I would rather watch paint dry than go for my Igbo classes although I still went for all my Igbo classes, primarily because I was always lost and second because the Igbo teacher (God bless you if you ever read this) was WEIRD! Nothing like you’ve seen or heard can compare with her Igbocity. Every class I would serve punishment for my apperant ignorance. I was like the ice breaker and comic relief. When she wanted to make a funny statement she would ask me a question and of course I would mumble and stammer until she would worsen my punishment (as I was usually on punishment right from the beginning of the class) or somebody would whisper the answer to me. Fortunately for me it wasn’t compulsory to write it in WAEC.

 

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As far as maths goes, I never liked maths until a few weeks before I wrote maths in WAEC. I suddenly realised how fun it was, but it was too late. There was too much backlog of things I had never really learnt in maths and no time to relearn all of them. I did the best I could and although I covered a lot of them I couldn’t properly master construction, circle geometry, bearings and arithmetic and geometric progressions. 

 

I remember my WAEC exam vividly. As I sat looking at the chinese that was before me I wanted to die. The construction looked like circle geometry without the circle, that was what I thought at first, then suddenly it began to look like a very complicated and even diabolical bearing question and it was 12 marks and I needed to answer it because at least I could guess what it was or was suppose to be. I eventually left it unanswered and was about 2 questions short and was only sure of 6 out of 10 or so never minding my penchant for making small and incredibly costly mistakes. I got a D. Luckily for me God answers prayers and I passed maths in my NECO. 

 

 

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