For Abel…
A thank you note, eighteen years after…
I cannot remember every topic I learned in my fifth year of secondary school, but I can remember the first topic in SS2 clearly. Money and its theories. The Conservative Theory. The Speculative Theory. The Precautionary Theory.
In the eighteen years that have passed since I learnt these theories, I have practiced every one of them. I have made money. I have lost money. However, this piece is less about my experience with money and more about the man whose chalk strokes illustrated the theory of money.
Mr. Abel Wakegire was my class teacher in SS2 Mercury. He taught Economics. I had always known it was this subject about money but with Mr. Abel, it was different. He taught with heart, with personality. He was the one whose strokes on a blackboard and explanations laid the cornerstone for a lot that would follow. And what a year that was. Demand curves, the law of supply, market equilibrium, giffen goods, the invisible hand of the market.
Beyond Economics, Mr. Abel taught me attention to detail, the discipline of pausing and double-checking. My mind has always been restless, forgetful even. In SS2, this showed up in the form of drawing my curves without labelling them “D” (for demand curves) or “S” (for supply curves).
A few weeks before a test, Mr. Abel had cautioned me about this “habit”. I heard the lesson. When the test came, I forgot to apply the lesson. The cost? A points deduction because my demand curve could very well have been illustrating anything between two points; the omitted words would have made it evident what story the line was telling.
SS1 was my worst year in secondary school. I cannot remember anything beyond literature lessons and serving more punishments than a repeat offender. God, SS1 had me in the trenches of sufferhead. I was punished for coming late, for missing notes, for failing assignments, for making noise. I think the only form of punishment I didn’t experience was crucifixion and that was because the school had used up its wood supply making chalkboards.
Thanks to Mr. Abel, SS2 was easily my best, most impactful year. I had the best grades, served the least amount of punishment (not because of favouritism, I was better behaved and less riotous). Heck, I was even part of the school’s teams to a few competitions. What a year. That year should have been anything but a good year. I should have struggled more that year than the one before because at the beginning of the school year, my parent’s marriage had begun its death throes, by the end of the year, the separation was final and in some way, I was largely unscathed because books and writing (that was the year I started writing) were a welcome distraction for me.
Ultimately, Mr. Abel taught me the benefit of a gamble, of believing in and taking a chance on people. I don’t know why or what he saw but he took a bet on me at the start of the school year and made me class prefect. In third term, he nominated me to be school prefect; I would go on to be library prefect.
When I look down that eighteen-year-old tunnel, my one regret is that I never got to thank Mr. Abel before he passed last year…
For the longest time, I have wrestled with the feeling of not being or doing enough. I have skimmed the surface of my potential and know what I can be and what I can do but there’s a wide gulf between here and there, a gulf largely carved by doubt-inspired procrastination. Oh, lacking self-belief as an adult is quite the experience…
Lately, I have been thinking about legacy. For Mr. Abel, a core piece of his purpose, one he perhaps never realised, was teaching Economics with heart. For me, I have no idea what my purpose is, at least not the entire picture. But as I have heard more times than I have fingers, clarity come from doing, not wondering
While I have lost the opportunity to thank Mr. Abel, I think the ultimate tribute is to take another gamble, this time on myself. Here goes nothing….
“i think the only form of punishment I didn’t experience was crucifixion and that was because the school has used up its wood supply making chalkboards.”😹😹
Aloaye, you write so well!
That's the comment.