It wasn't an unusual thing at school, especially for those classmates, most of whom had not yet left childhood. They still needed to be disciplined and taught much about the ways of this world. They saw nothing wrong with what happened, even though that teacher's words were hypocritical and deeply flawed.
The student didn't make a scene at the front of the classroom. The sound of shoes approaching that way made her scramble quickly back into her seat, and suddenly the room fell silent as if nothing had happened. Fear made them blame themselves when they realized who had arrived was a male student from a lower form.
"Monitress, you are needed in the discipline office," came the message; after giving them that order he left the classroom quickly, and a new murmur spread.
The girls' class leader who was required was Monica Leonard — she ran the class's activities alongside her male counterpart. She was known for being obedient to teachers, though not the sort to tattle on classmates unless absolutely necessary.
Monica was of average beauty, with a dusky complexion. She liked her hair cut neatly and her appearance was always clean and tidy. Her uniform was immaculate and well-pressed, so teachers often held her up as an example of good conduct and proper grooming.
She was called into Mr. Manjenje's office and, true to her reputation for obedience, she rose at once and went without delay. When she arrived, the teacher was seated at his desk, his cane on the table and the curtains open.
Manjenje's face showed no friendliness that day; he had been soured earlier by those two pupils who were involved. Each scheme he had planned to catch them and cane them had failed to yield results, which only fueled his bitterness. He was determined to punish, and he searched for any pretext.
"Monica, understand: I don't like to be trifled with or to be given half-answers when I need clarity," he said.
"Yes, sir," she answered.
"How are Rama and Frida? I want to know from you right now if you know anything — I don't want to be deceived."
A sudden hush fell over Monica; she didn't know how to respond, put on the spot before such a strict teacher. The presence of the cane on his desk suggested that a reprimand might begin with her, before he addressed the students in question. She felt certain someone had reported the two, which was how the matter had reached him, though she knew nothing.
Manjenje deliberately toyed with the girl's nerves, using his authority and the reputation he commanded. He wanted to make his point and avenge earlier failures of his discipline. He was not one to accept defeat.
He resolved to press the issue, unwilling to be seen falling short; after all, those who annoyed him were younger and lower in status — and many parents trusted him as a firm guardian of their children. No one could easily defy his orders.
"Monica, I'm not asking you a personal question — have you become prideful and sullied your reputation? The second mistress sings your praises and holds you up as a model. Have you become dishonest? Disobedient? Are you part of a group? ... Now, why are you remaining silent when I ask you directly?" he poured out question after question like rain. Monica shook her head at most, until she was left with the last one and felt compelled to answer.
She considered exposing her peers and betraying friends who had helped her academically, but she also feared the consequences — the deep trouble that could come from such a report. Those friends had assisted her with difficult subjects; accusing them would destroy their bonds.
"I don't know anything, sir. I only see them together studying and helping one another. I think they're just friends — nothing else," she said.
(He slammed his hands down on the desk.) "Friends?! What nonsense! All of you go back home, and one returns late in the evening near here. Have you ever seen a boy and a girl be mere 'friends'? Don't play games with me."
"Teacher, I swear I don't know anything. I'm just their monitress and I do my work. When did I ever lie to you?" she protested, the strain clear.
When he saw that tactic failing, he changed approach. "Shall I call your parents and tell them you've turned coarse and lost your manners? You disgrace Madam Mariam — the one who always praised you as a role model. Don't you see Rama is a disrespectful boy, and he practically behaves like a weed-smoker? Asking such questions — does that not risk damaging another pupil?"
At that, Monica's head bowed and her face filled with fear. Deep down she was unwilling to betray the classmates who had helped her. She trembled and tears sprang to her eyes.
"Teacher, you're being unfair — I don't know anything," she said. Manjenje reacted by drawing her nearer, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close — the petty vindictiveness inside him was awake.
But just as he began to press further, remembered the open door and the drawn curtains; he realized he could not let the other, more private side of her life be exposed to anyone. he sprang up and moved briskly toward the doorway, then suddenly heard the sound of a girl's shoes approaching. She turned back in a flash and, sharp as a reprimand, said, "Get out of the way quickly like a kitchen spirit — don't make me sick with your nonsense."