Several years ago, when I returned from the Lake, I sought admission in many schools at Winneba, but none of them was willing to admit me. I was then 13 years of age. At that age, I could neither read nor write; not even A,B,C,D or 1,2,3.
Looking at my body contours and the vengeance written on my face, many of the schools were afraid that if they admitted me into the lower primary classes, I might abuse the children, and possibly influence them negatively. Besides, they could not accept me into any upper class because I did not have what it took to be in class five or class six.
I eventually went to the Life Corps School, which at that time had collapsed, and government had just taken over to revive it for the Sankor community. The assistant headmaster then, who was also a prolific subsistence farmer, requested that I brought him some vegetative cassava sticks for planting as a condition to provide me with the admission to the school. I provided the cassava sticks after which I was admitted to class six.
Obviously, the difference between the rest of the students and me was poles apart. They spoke and wrote good English while I watched them sheepishly. Absolutely, I had no idea of what they spoke about. The only languages permitted in the school were English and French. Unfortunately, I understood none.
The assistant headmaster who admitted me to the school was the same person who taught me French and Environmental Studies. In the course of the first term, he conducted a test in French, and I scored zero. It was a multiple choice answer type of questions. After marking the papers, he wrote the correct answers on the blackboard for us to copy.
Having successfully learnt how to write the A, B, C, D, from the kindergarteners, I religiously copied the answers that the teacher had provided on the board into my exercise books, and went home to memorize them.
The following week, the same teacher conducted another test, also a multiple choice type of questions, but this time round the test was on Environmental Studies. I walked into the examination room full of energy and excitement, with determination not to get zero this time round; I knew I had studied the art of writing correct answers.
When the ‘start work’ bell sounded, I wrote the answers that were provided by the teacher in the French exams we did the previous week into the spaces provided for the Environmental Studies test exactly in the order I had memorized them, for I could not differentiate between French and English. Thereafter, I walked away thinking I would score 100% in that test.
The following day, I noticed the teacher had arrived in the class unusually early, and was in a state of rage and anger. I never attributed anything to myself, as I was so expectant of getting applause from the class.
As the entire class got seated, the teacher pulled out one paper, and mentioned my name – James Annan! Then he followed up with “come forward!” I was unsure what that meant, and this teacher held in his hands the heaviest cane I had ever seen.
As soon as I got to him, he held me and started caning me; he caned me heavily with unlimited strength, and hit almost every part of my body, including my testicles.
The other day, I was told Jesus Christ got angry and caned several men and women who were selling in his father’s house. The Messiah did not cane children. He caned adults, but that action by Christ could be interpreted in today’s world as violence against women.
I never ever caned my son, Kofi, yet he collected the ‘Best Behaved Pupil’ award when he was graduating from kindergarten. I have never caned my 21-year-old daughter, yet she was always a prefect in almost all the schools she has attended so far to the extent that even at the university, the ICGC campus ministry selected her to lead the women’s wing.
A few weeks ago, my son hit his sister (something I’m sure he picked from school) to the point that the sister wept heavily. I saw the action, and for the first time I nearly reacted against my avowed principle of never caning my children. I looked at him straight into his eyes, and I knew he saw the disappointment in my eyes. Then I saw tears dropping from his eyes, for he knew that he had disappointed me.
In the midst of his tears, I drew closer and calmly hugged him, and whispered into his ears, “I love you Kofi”. After I left him, I saw that he had walked apologetically to his sister who was crying and said to her, “I’m sorry Ekua”. He kept saying I’m sorry until his sister stopped crying and they held hands as they walked to their room.
There is evidence to show that corporal punishment leads to low performance. In my school, for the ten good years that the school was in existence, I never allowed corporal punishment of any sort, yet the school produced 100% BECE results for all the four consecutive years that I was in charge.
My experience with the benevolent assistant headmaster who caned me turned whatever love I had for him into seeing him as a potential murderer, and that impression never left me until several years later. I became afraid of him to the extent that each time I saw him, I felt some pains in my testicles as though the pains were as real as the moment he was inflicting them.
I am raising this issue not because Christ died for you and me, or not because Shirley Ayorkor is said to have attempted to assault Sam George. I am raising this issue because as we celebrate Christ, we might need to reflect on how it feels like when we are hit by objects.
The Bible says we are made in the likeness of God. Inflicting pains in the body of the other person could be likened to beating Christ in retaliation for his whipping of the people in the church.
There have been stories of children who have lost their eyes or even died due to corporal punishment. Some young girls have been forced to menstruate due to the severity of the punishment they received from their teachers.
I don’t want to wish my childhood testicular pains on any schoolchild. But may we resolve that the year 2019 shall present a new beginning in our thoughts and our values towards our children? And may it be said that we took positive steps in bringing out the best in our children till Christ comes!
From James Kofi Annan