Revenge is a Salted Fish

****Even if you were right, people wouldn't see you as right, so it would sometimes be better if you just left.****

I could feel the frustration building in me, bubbling in my stomach alongside the salted fish fried rice I was busy gulping down. Gulping because I knew that the bell would ring soon and I would have to go do the attendance on my own, the same way it had been since the past weeks, or even months. The grudge had been steadily rising as well as I felt it was unfair that at the beginning there was no one to do the attendance with me, and now that a candidate had been selected, he was playing hide and seek with me. I was also angry as it was the second day in a row that I was having to sacrifice my lunch, as delicious as it might be. We did have to wait for some time before getting our dishes and it would have been nice to be able to savour it in peace. I vented my frustration with my friends Ruby, Karu, Zaza and Hem, only for them to teasingly blame me, as it was my fault for not reporting the duty-escaper sooner. I justified it by saying that I simply didn't want a fellow colleague to get into trouble by reporting him and I was hoping that a flash of inspiration and conscience would just him and he would realise his mistake.

Taking my trusted blue pen in a firm grip, I gently eased down the stairs, trying to spare my still aching knees. Falling down and badly bruising your knees, could that be an excuse not to do the attendance? I did feel like a hopping rabbit, the way I was trying not to put any pressure on my left leg, but then I thought that it went well with my rabbit teeth. As soon as I reached the usher's office where the attendance registers were kept, my eyes just opened wide in surprise. Oh Heaven, when you do think of the devil, he does appear. Here was my fellow co-form teacher leaving the gents' toilet and coming in my direction. That dear Mr Africain looked even more taken aback than me. Apparently he had been planning to flee today as well, but he knew he was now trapped. He sauntered to me and raised a reassuring hand at me, waving it as if to signal me that he had it covered. He was planning to go do the attendance, not to worry, as if it had been his plan all along. My salted fish flared its head and I told him not to just leave as I needed to have a few words with him. How could he think that he could just 'forget' to attend to his duty for three weeks and then just behave as if there was no problem. But Africain seemed not to be interested in the urn of the conversation and he started walking away, but not in the direction of the office, which suggested that he had already forgotten that he had to do the attendance. I guess, all habits are hard to die, right?

"Wait, I'm not done," I stopped him in his steps and by now we had almost reached the lobby and I informed him that his behaviour was not acceptable, at which he raised his eyebrows and acidly retorted, "I don't like the tone you are using." Yeah, and what about the job you are not doing? This does not bother you dear sir, I thought. He then turned his back and just moved away, making a fuck off gesture with his hands, leaving me look blankly at his fellow colleague who had been listening meekly to the conversation. I raised my hands in frustration and turned around, to see four pairs of interested eyes looking at me from behind the reception counter. Cool, my insult was witnessed by a couple of attendants. What more could I want to make my day better? Of course, it meant that once again Africain had been able to avoid doing his job. In frustration, I quickly rushed to class, doing the attendance in a hurry. How I wish I could have been as careless and carefree and just forego this task as easily as my colleague had.

But this was not to be the end of my ordeal. Oh gods and goddesses, don't you have a better job to do rather than putting obstacles in my way each time? This apparent disrespect shown to me burned me and I could feel the acid filling in my stomach. I could not digest this feeling of powerlessness, not even my fried rice with the salted fish seemed willing to be digested. I marched to the office in a self-righteous way in order to meet the Rector. He was not there. I walked to the staffroom. Angrily, I talked about lazy nincompoops who thought they could get away with everything. I went down again. Still not here. Went up. Vented a little bit. Went down a third time, and this time the secretary took pity of me and asked me to tell her the cause of my visit so that she could convey a message to the Rector. I felt a bit anxious as narrating the story to her would be making things official and I didn't want that to happen, my gloating heart claimed. However, I had no choice and told her about the teacher who didn't want to do his job. This task done, I went back to my seat and tried as hard to forget this hand raised so defiantly and telling me to fuck off.

In the afternoon, the Rector just informed me that he was made aware of the issue and I was asked why I had not informed him of the situation before. Well, if I had informed earlier it would have been an issue of the teacher not doing his job for a few days, which was not a real defiance of authority, whereas waiting to see how far Africain is willing to go in order not to do his job would provide a stronger case. Not that I was trying to trap him! He was doing a fairly good job on his own. When school was over, the clash that I had was still weighing heavily in my mind. I was not one for confrontation, but I was also not one to sugar-coat the truth. Why is it that Africain committed the mistake, but flared out as if I was the one who was wrong? If telling someone he made a mistake makes you the bad one, then it means that I should have kept quiet and let the nincompoop do his pooping! So, to put it briefly, I spent a rough evening, breaking into tears two times because I could not understand how the situation could have worsened so quickly.

Next morning came, with the mature doppelganger in me telling me to keep my calm and not aggravate the situation. I went to take my attendance, but it was not in its usual spot, leaving me to the conclusion that Africain had already taken it on the eve. I then saw him coming out of the Rector's office, all smiles. Apparently he had been able to bluff his way around. I went to class without the register and started noting down the names of those who were absent. Africain came in class. No greeting for me, just a mockingly cheerful good morning to the five students in class. Smilingly, I asked him, "So, do you have something to say?", hoping he would get the cue and apologise for not coming on the previous days, but he just looked at me blankly and with a jeer to his lips, said there was nothing to say. "You can leave now," he said pointing in the direction of the door.

I could not deal with another such blatant lack of respect, especially when it was in front of students and without looking at anyone, I mumbled that he should do the attendance and I left like a dog with its tail behind its hind legs. Howling and yelping like they do would have helped too. It was really hard for me to deal with such bitchiness and I could already feel tears welling in my eyes. The wretched genes that I share in common with my mother are to be blamed for this. I just remember breezing across the stairs in a hurry to just hide these tears. The secretary told me that the Rector was upstairs and when I saw him the taps just opened and my tears just flowed out and I wailed out my frustration at being insulted by this Africain. He seemed shocked by this violent outpour and seemed to be wishing for an umbrella to protect him from this non-ending drizzle of frustrated tears. He just waved in the direction of two other educators who had come on hearing my sobs and seemed to indicate to them to deal with this cry-baby and check if her nappy was dry or if she needed milk.

At that awful moment nothing seemed to matter to me as I just expressed my anger and pain to those around me. It hurts when people just seem to want to hurt you for free. I wiped my nose and taking spare tissue paper with me, I walked to the office, where Africain was then called. And that's where I got my first dose of Mansplaining. Let the hysterical female cry her eyes out and bawl, while no one pays attention to her. Raise your hands to talk, and be ignored. Have the offender play the victim and put all the blame on you. Apparently I shouted at Africain, I spoke aggressively in front of students, I was the one overreacting when there was no issue. 'We should be professionals right'; don't do your job, blame someone who tells you you are not doing it and be the professional one! React to someone's insult and try to prove he faulted, but be blamed for not being professional. This is what we call a male chauvinistic society. Of course, the frustration mounted and you didn't want to be silenced, but what could be done?

Helpless and powerless, I left and went to my class. I wouldn't want to be accused of being unprofessional now. When things like that happen, when you face a kind of conflict and you know that you are not to be blamed and yet you are not to be believed, then fumes of revenge threaten to engulf you and drag you in an inferno of blazing scenarios where you play out different scenes of a movie in which you are the avenging angel out for the blood of the offender. I even imagined so many scenes where I would brandish the proof of Africain's culpability and he would get an official memo. He would then grovel to me and ask for forgiveness and all my grievances would disappear. I wanted the God of poetic justice to strike, for him to face a dreadful situation where he would be punished by the very same authorities defending him. Or he could be swallowed by a fish...

It was hard to forgive, more so when an apology hasn't been made, and I was not going to strive for sainthood.

A few weeks later, Mr Africain had been transferred to another institution, it was not the revenge I was expecting but he was out of my hair. The lesson I learnt on that day was that you shouldn't expect external situations to make you feel better, peace begins inside of you. Get rid of the negativity inside you and automatically what happens outside stops having the influence to affect you.

Of course it helps to see Mr Africain avoid my gaze when we do meet at important gatherings. He might not feel apologetic, but at least he's frightened of Super Cry-baby. I told you, I have super powers.