mrs doubtfire

Nothing can dispel the enthusiasm of school like mathematics. Don't get me wrong I have loved mathematics. but i speak for the majority. if you had a father like mine then you would have had a fair share of nightmares with einstein, carl francis and the other cahoots starring in them. he practically assured me impending sleepless nights if 'simple' maths could not add up. Even my mother's intervention was futile. He said everything around us applied mathematics to it. Mathematics was the catapault. Boy was he right. To approach a girl you have to calculate the odds before you go for the prize..save for those who sip burgundi wine at a corner table, six foot heels,a skirt which rivals my granmother's handkerchief and have their eyes laden with mascara(that's what its called? Right) those whose smile seems to say "I carry the heavy weight of beauty on my shoulder,excuse me if I seem pre occupied." Those ones need no calculation. Run away!! Its the only anaestethia to your ego. Our problems were qualmed once the report card had friendly numbers. and I never looked back, unless when scratching my back. Incase your wondering what a friendly number looks like, maybe I could tell what it doesn't look like. While my uncle was a kid he took his report card to my grandpa. The old man was educated. He took a good look. He then took another good look, probably assuming he had made some mistake at what he saw at first. With bewilderment he asked, " Is this the fees balance or your position?" what he saw was a not a friendly number.

My mathematics classes at the university are nothing short of tedious. Thing is I am tought in polish, so I'm experiencing a whole system overhaul. Everything I knew almost equates to nothing. Almost. But non the less I find the journey very interesting. There is no worse feeling than giving up. There sure are some dull days of mathematics. But nothing can take away the excitment created by mrs doubtfire. I call my maths lecturer mrs doubfire. Ok repeat that name, turn it over in your mind,make it simmer..aint it faboulous? She has the looks of mrs doubtfire(acted by robin williams) from the exclaimed movie..err. Only that she is no man. I think. Wom$n got jokes. And nothing beats a joke delivered by a stern face. Sometimes she cracks a smile to her jokes. Name whoever you think who has a personality of a cold sandwich, Mrs doubtfire will deliver his soul,with a smile attached to it.
Eddie griffin must have dropped out of her class.

if I could do a postmortem on her life I would give her 65+ years of accuring jokes. I strongly believe she must have been there around the second world war. Since that war started in poland, the good lord saved her from the bombs of hitler. And she sure returned the favour by teaching the good lord's creations maths,and a sense of humour. She witnessed the high handedness of the russians up till 21 years ago. Why I say this, is because the russians in my class get owned real good..and I mean real real good. One son and maybe a daughter just to give her the benefit of doubt. She speaks only french and polish. She appears to be knee deep in the cheese. And her dressing is elegant. If she would drop the thick glasses and quit blinking you'd think she is a mannequin. I think she spends a lot of time on the mirror. Well I don't blame her. Beauty is her portion. Unlike some of us who avoid mirrors because what stares back is not optically digestible.

We average at around sixteen students. Give or take one. The two Vietnamese and two Chinese are nothing short of brilliant. That I give them. So for sure no tantrums are thrown their way.

Murphy's law says anything that can happen will happen.

"Bildad my dear could you solve this sum for us."(Please note that there is no question mark).

At that moment, the angels in heaven must have stopped singing. The sum shaked the foundation on which I had built my deceptive mortality on. That was the hardest sum I have laid my eyes onto. That chalk must have broken into pieces immediately. I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell. I could hear the guy next to me swallow deep...and hard. I felt that small tail, which every human has, coil into a tight curl. Boy did I wish I could take a dump.

Footnote: This happens atleast twice every week. So next time you think you've had a hard week, think again.

NOT winning!

Last night, I thought I'd wake up a jack bauer of some sort. You see, everyone pictures hisself to have some kind of unfathomable power therein. Long gone days when I had no knowledge of a goatee my father taught me and my brother a song. Early to bed, early to rise, makes someone healthy and wealthy and wise..and so it went. Having being a sunday, the night was resoundingly calm as always. On checking my watch it was circa ten of the clock, I had early classes and had nothing else to justify a late one. Ahh what the heck, I hit the blankets. Lights, camera..and action. And that is when it all began. Caution, this is not one of those hullaboo where I end up blowing hot on how it was all in the end, a dream.

So I dug in my oars. Two hours in, I abruptly woke up on hearing a phone call. Thing is, even an elephant march across my room (not that it can fit in anyway) cannot wake me up. I sleep like a fat female bat. My room mate who apparently was awake received the call and murmered something of the sought to suggest that I was asleep. The caller was asking for me.

"Hallo!"

..murmuring..

" No Bill is asleep now"

More murmuring, only now had it moulded into a more convincing tone.

"Okay. Don't worry I'll make it look like an accident..so about the money?"

More assuring murmurs attenuated by a resounding command..

In the while, I had pinched myself to reality. This was not a dream.

I threw a quick gaze towards the direction of my room-mate, who by now was reciting some long ass numbers to the receiver. With all the strength I could muster, I steathily pulled the revolver under my pillow..

The conversation actually ended at him saying I was asleep. And he hung up and went back to his computer. In the whisker of a second the door knocked. For real.

" Hey maen..umm do you know Anya?"

I was now fully awake, my brains rather, my eyes remained shut. I knew who the stranger was. Some punk Nigerian dude who sauntered, scratch that, who swagged around our hostel oftenly. Boy always had sagged pants and a durag on. I could bet no one knew the colour of his hair, or rather, whether he even had hair! This guy gave me the chills. This is how. Goes back to the new year party. We welcomed it with a small party( for east africans and friends of east africa) in the vicinity, lots of food, loud music, champagne and one or two or three skimpily dressed women. I had participated in part in preparing the venue but hastily left for church. I was that religious. Still am. Little past mid-night after the service ended I was to take a bus home, as I endured the gut wrenching cold. Apparently I was waiting for a bus or tram(whichever came first) which was coming from heaven. There I was, sitted at the stop shivering like a bird. I don't want to remember how I even tried a lighter on my hands just to keep warm. To cut the short story long(insert smile) I found the party kicking. Quick hugs( to the ladies ofcourse) and happy new years and off I was to the food section. I was so cold I could not afford a warm smile. As the night wore off and glasses broke,drinks spilled and dawn cracked, the numbers reduced and reduced and reduced and stopped at three people. Last men..err,and a woman standing huh. Yes, count me in. Not that I was a victim of insomnia but I was waiting for something. Right infront of my eyes, I saw it, but could not take it. Take a guess. My lap top and speakers! The only thing between me taking it was, the Oga brother. And his fat slightly malnourished girlfriend. Gate crashers. Not that I'm complaining. I am a victim. I have crashed into more parties than a blind donkey in Mwea. Guy was churning out tupac and old skul hits as he rapped along. He also had a couple of songs of his own up his sleeves. As the night wore off I later learnt that he was a rapper. For hours he had taken over the lap top as he got high on weed. I kept asking,yes asking, him to play one last one and we call it a night. Ofcourse, one last one led to another. I sat there wearingly staring at him as he fed me his cock and bull of which concerts he has rapped in and the sort. I could not apply my force here. That would be a foul move. Oga had scars all over his face and arms to suggest he made kissing fists and broken bottles a hobby. Me being handsome and all that, I didn't want to be part of the after-party fought fight statistics. Heck he was even taller than me. Only then after his weed ran out did he leave. So I always strayed away from him, lest I add another scar on his face. Yea right! Appart from the occasional hallo's we never had any other qualms.

Only recently had I seen him with no durag, his head was whistle clean. With all the sharp corners on his head, I mean, that head would send down shivers to the strongest bull straight from Ikolomani. No assertions, guy could as well have been walking with a weapon as his head.

So my roomates replied to the affirmative, that he knew Anya.

"So listen up maen, she told me I could come to you because I have this bag and I wanted to leave it here coz I'm travelling tomorrow then come for it early in the morning." Said mr sharp head.

I am sure that we all are accustomed to the story of how one can be tricked off to hold something for a friend, without much ado the phony friend actually tips off the police and lands your sorry ass in jail. All the while contents of the 'something' you were holding were ill eagle. My roomate was actually abrest with such stories, I assumed. Since he tried to actually wade the guy off. From the onset of things, the guy never took no as an answer.

"Don't you have friends in this building you can give instead?" Enquired my room mate.

"I have but they've refused maen."

"Why?"

"This is life maen..you know, that is life maen.."

"So where do you live?"

..Silence..

"Why don't you go with it there instead.."

"You know..I'm gonna come for it early in the morning,coz I have to come get it,then go back get the other stuff then imma travel"

At this point I was lost at what he tried to imply. Either he was very stupid or very smart. In the end all he meant was that he wanted to leave the bag here!! Total bollocks!

"You know what I'm saying..?" Oga squirmed.

..Long weird silence..

"What time will you take it?" Enquired my roommate.

At this point I felt like strangling him. How lame could he be to fall into that trap. I could now picture his face..I could bet it was contorted like that of a pregnant seal trapped in a fish net. Then my mind swang into a spin. I pictured police men coming for us. Just then I pressed my phone and noted the time.00.18. You know!! I felt detective like. I felt jack bauer.