SIR SKELEWU’S ‘ABAA’....

It was class four (4). Sir Skelewu was all we knew him as; his real name most of us dared not to us. As fearful as his name sounded, his sizeable, long ‘rod’ was one thing he barely spared, lest spoil us. 

Most of us would ‘load’ piles of books or even used clothing into the backs of either our shirts or shorts, but all those weren’t enough to salvage us from the endless pain of his ‘abaa’, to wit, cane. Countless times had we tried to steal that deity of his that caused us so much discomfort, yet all to no avail. 

This time around he had asked us to go find out the name of someone who mowed lawns. He was definitely going to verify the answers any moment from that day.

Early next morning, Sir Skelewu was brandishing his ‘abaa’ at us. “Yes Yaw John, your answer.” 

He stood up. “The answer is gate man, sir!”

Before he could bat an eyelid, two heavy strokes had travelled back and forth his back, with the speed of lightning. He yelled.

As of this time, the class was dead silent. Everyone’s heart thumped in their chest. The last thing anyone wanted to hear was their name. 

“Yes. Kofi Paul, tell me what you discovered”

Kofi Paul was visibly shaking.  “Errrrm. Errrrm. Goat, sir!” he quivered.

“Eeeeh?” 

He repeated it, this time louder.

“Dog, not goat! Fool!”

In the twinkling of an eye, Sir Skelewu had mercilessly unleashed his cane on him, too. No one dared laugh, funny as it seemed. After all, one didn’t know whether what they were thinking was right or not.

 

“Kwesi Boh, what do you think the answer is?” 

“Grass cutter!” he swiftly replied.

“What!?” Sir Skelewu wondered.

“Ah! My mother told me. Grass cutter!”

The lanky teacher’s deafening lashes suddenly resonated with his three-syllabled answer, Kwesi Boh bursting into tears and dashing out of the class. 

Sir Skelewu continued with his whipping spree.

In no time, Kwesi Boh returned with his furious mother. The Goliath-like physique, who was famed for flooring even the strongest ‘Area Macho’, struggled to enter the door of the class. Painstakingly she did. 

“Where’s the teacher?” she roared. Kwesi pointed at him.

“Give me that ‘abaa’ now and let me show you how sweet it feels like!”

Sir Skelewu’s feet were wobbling. “Oh! But Kwesi, you should have told me your mum was the English professor!”