Abanyeshuri

The students looked down at their feet looking guilty, fidgeting and shuffling.  Jacqueline looks at them angrily and rattles off in Kinyarwanda as the rain falls onto the tin roof of the tiny office.  School has started and just as I suspected, teenagers are exactly the same across the world.  Minutes earlier as Jacqueline and I sat in the office organizing student reports and registering last minute slackers, we heard a commotion outside.  The cheering and angry yells shifted our gazes out the window where a large group of students in their blue and green uniforms stood packed together.  Jacquie shook her head and muttered, “Abanyeshuri…Nzabakubita.”  She already knew they were up to no good.  These abanyeshuri were about to get an abanye-whoopin’.  I watched with interest as she grabbed the office ‘student stick’ from the corner and marched outside.  The student stick is what I like to refer to as a teacher’s disciplinary and threatening tool.  Teachers usually carry some sort of student stick with them as they roam school grounds.  They don’t beat the teens with the sticks; the most I’ve seen is a little tap, so student sticks are primarily used for intimidation.  As I watched Jacquie tromp up the hill waving the stick around, I could see why.  The scene was quite comical, actually – students rushed into classrooms and formed tighter groups as she yelled, swirling the stick in the air.  Jacquie, who is sweet, quick to laugh, quicker to sing and enjoys small thrills in life like sneaking up on a baby cow and grabbing the tail, can bring a student to tears with her lectures.  Outside she stood in front of a group of 80 students firmly addressing them until, reluctantly, a few students stepped forward.  She turned and talked to a small boy I hadn’t noticed standing in the doorway of a classroom, rubbing his eyes.

They all came around to the office and as she asked questions, they answered softly.  When they glanced upward I could tell from their eyes they knew they had done something wrong.  Bits and pieces of the conversation poured into my brain and from what I understood there was some kind of fight, or at least one student hitting another.  Jacquie furiously wrote a letter, signed it and stamped it with the school seal.  I saw that a couple of students were to leave the school grounds for the weekend and return on Monday with their parents.  This was quite the punishment for these boarding school kids as the weekend is a time to relax from a hard week of classes, clubs and extra curricular activities.  As the students left, Jacquie explained the situation to me in detail.  Apparently the older students were initiating the new students by grouping around them and embarrassing them with little bops to the head as they stood there helpless.  “These poor new students,” Jacquie said. “They are so nervous being away from home and the big kids want to show who is boss.”  I tell her that this sounds like exactly something that would happen in high schools in the states and we both sighed at the psyches of young teens.  Later that day as we were walking up to our house a group of kids ran across the hill in front of us.  They all jumped over a small dip in the ground, except for one small guy who didn’t notice the dip.  My eyes went wide as his head disappeared and I saw his feet flip over his head.  He sat in the grass for a second and looked around, confused as to what just happened.  All around him students erupted in laughter.  The boy stood up, brushed himself off and slunk away, head down and hands in pockets.  Jacquie stood tall and told everyone to stop – the kid was just a new student trying to get by, embarrassed to his core about what just happened.  “Be nice!”  She said to the laughers, “Go see if he’s OK!!”

As she continued up the hill, back turned to the students, she giggled and admitted it was pretty funny.  I had been, on the other hand, stifling my laughter since that little guy’s feet flew over his head.

In a crazy connection teens unite in their awkward and angst-y mannerisms across the continents.  From the USA to Mauritania to Rwanda, adolescence and the consciousness that accompanies it stands true.  What am I going to do with my 500?  Better follow suite and grab my student stick.