In 2007, I was a fresh senior high school graduate looking for a spot I can own in life. I’d wanted to go to the university but looking at my parents and what they did for a living, I didn’t think it would be possible for me to go to the university. So right after senior high, I sent applications to primary schools in Assin Fosu looking to become pupils’ teacher. I needed to earn money to support my education. It was hard but one day, a school at the side of the road employed me as a class teacher for primary four. 

I remember my first day in class, after introducing myself, I asked them if they had questions to ask. One girl raised up her hand. I asked her name and she said, “Beatrice.” I said, “Beatrice, so what’s your question?” She said, “Do you like whipping children?” The whole class burst out laughing. I said, “If you behave around here, I’ll be your favorite teacher. If you decide to go contrary to my orders, then you won’t like me. I don’t like whipping kids but if you force me, I will.”

When the time came for me to select class captain, I selected Beatrice. The whole class was shocked. To them, the class captain is supposed to be someone who’s clever and academically good. Beatrice wasn’t that kind of girl, hence their surprise. But I kept her at her post. When she wrote names of talkative, her spellings were all over the place. Her English wasn’t that good and she was always late for school. 

And then she changed.

She was the first to come to school when she became a class prefect. She was the one to ask, “Sir, won’t you collect the assignment?” She was the one who improved the most under my care. Three terms later, they moved to another class. She kept coming to my class during break time. She saw a friend in me. She was in JHS one when I finally left the school to Takoradi Polytechnic in 2010. 

I had a dream to pursue so I left everything behind and immersed myself in the things of the school. I was in Polytechnic when my dad died. After the burial, my mom moved from Assin Fosu to live in Cape Coast where my family house was. That was the reason why I couldn’t go back to Fosu again. There was nothing to take from there and there was nothing to give. In 2013, I completed school. Luckily for me, I did my national service on campus so I didn’t have to move and after national service, I had a job in Takoradi so I settled permanently in Takoradi. 

One afternoon in 2019, I was at the bank filling a form when I felt a tap behind my back. I turned and saw this thick and tall policewoman right behind me. She was in the police cap and had a gun in her left hand. My heart skipped a beat. I looked right into her face and asked, “Am I doing something wrong?” She said, “Sir Denis.”  Then my mind went back to my teaching days. I looked at her very well. She looked very familiar. I asked, “I taught you?” She asked, “You don’t remember me?” She removed her cap. I said, “Beatrice.” She said, “Yeah, this is Beatrice.” 

We left the banking hall so our noise wouldn’t disturb anybody. “I screamed, “Hey, you look good.” She said, “I wasn’t sure it was you. In my mind, you should look older than I’m seeing now.” We stood there for almost thirty minutes, reminiscing our days when I was her teacher and she was my pupil. We talked about her classmates and where they were. I asked questions about herself. She was posted to Takoradi after her police training. I was excited to see her, and I was also excited to know that she had become something though she wasn’t that clever.

We exchanged contacts. She said, “Sir, don’t forget to call me ooo.” I said, “I won’t forget.”

That evening, I saw her Whatsapp status. I’ve forgotten what she posted but I remember commenting on her status. I remember she responded and I remember we continued talking about the days when she was my pupil. One weekend she said she wouldn’t be at post. I said, “Then let’s hang out.” We did have fun that evening, moving from one place to another until we ended up at the beach. From there, whenever she wouldn’t be at post, she would tell me. When I had the time, we hang out.

She came to my house once. She said she was hungry. I said, “Let’s go out and find something to eat.” She said, “Let’s cook something. We are in the house.” I teased, “Do you even know how to cook?” She said, “Sir paa, I’m older now ooo. I’ve learned a lot of things.” So she cooked Jollof and it turned out to be the best food I’d eaten in a while. 

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We were no longer going out. She’ll come home whenever she was free and it was during one of those moments when she was in my room that I proposed to her. She said something funny like, “How could you date a child you taught in class four?” I asked, “Are you still in class four?” “Nanka!” she said. We both laughed. She said, “Let me think about it.” When she got home that evening, she sent me a text accepting my proposal. We never had a dull moment and we never had a moment where we both had a reason to doubt the love we had for each other. She had my back and I had her front and back.

In December 2020, she told me, “I put our wedding invitation in our class group on Whatsapp. Come and see comments.” I took her phone and read some of the comments. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Now I know why he didn’t beat you like he was beating us when we were in school.” One said, “So all those days he had eyes for you?” The craziest comment went like, “Awingaa teacher. We’ll meet him at the wedding.”

We had our wedding in January and everything felt surreal. Seeing all those kids I once lashed turned into adults made me feel like the oldest person in the room. In the end, we had a beautiful wedding.

We live together now. My only problem is how to make her stop calling me Sir Denis. We have joy unlimited and we have memories that keep us going strong every day.

—Sir Dennis       

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