Trust, Friendship and Expectations

I am not paranoid nor do I have trust issues. I'm just a good student, if experience as they often quip, is the best teacher. Experience would be impressed at my application of her practical lessons, unlike most people who repeat the same thing over and over again, despite meeting the same result. Einstein called it insanity.

Perhaps the lessons we learn as children are more vividly recalled than if they were taught at a later stage in life.  I was in primary 3 when life thought me about Trust, friendship and expectations. The back seat was reserved for the big kids, who coincidentally were also the dark horses of the class. Mother always wanted me to seat in front, 'those who seat behind, always come last in class'. My affinity for rebellion aided by my size aided my transfer from the front row to the back. From there I still managed to be among the top five in the class. The class sitting arrangement was two students per seat. A boy and a girl. I sat with a girl, Dinma. In front of us, Christopher, my best friend sat with Nelly, an over pampered brat.

One day, just before closing time, Nelly began to rant. Her dad bought a new bag for her elder sister but not her. She claimed she would tear up her bag with a razor, to force her father's hands. Christopher, Dinma and I lectured her on the consequences of her actions but she went ahead with it.

The next day I came to school late, because I had gone to take my younger siblings to their nursery school. On getting to the class, I met my seat and the seat in front of it empty, amidst an uncharacteristically quiet class. I looked forward, at the teacher's desk, stood Christopher, Dinma and Nelly. The teacher beckoned to me and I walked in between the row of benches, forward to her desk.

She asked me a funny question. 'why did you cut Nelly's bag'.



My shock struck me mute, but my eyes rested on my best friend and Dinma.  Apparently, Nelly lied to her father about the bag and the man came to report at school earlier in the morning, that a boy had cut her daughter's bag. I pleaded my innocence;

'Aunty, ask Christopher and Dinma, Its not me that cut it, it's was Nelly that cut her bag,with her own hand. '

'shut up!!!  That's the same lie Christopher and Dinma has been telling here since. I'm sure you bribed them to say that. '

When I look back at it now, I wonder how daft and obnoxious a teacher can be. She intimidated my friends but the one I least expected to, Dinma, stood by her truth. Christopher was intimidated and he altered his testimony slowly.

'Erm, Aunty, maybe if Nelly cut one side, Zoba will cut another side.' he said.

My mouth was agape in shock. 'Maybe's,  this young man, my best friend witnessed the whole scene yet he stood, afraid of the teacher's wrath, sacrificing our friendship on the altar of lies.

My parents did not believe me, it was the first time they ever disbelieved my account of event. They fixed Nelly's back and I learnt my lesson.

Situations alone will prove if the people you call friends, are trustworthy, therefore do not be hasty to commit all of you. It may lead to crushed expectations.

Peace! ✌