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In Memory of Mothokoa Teffo; my High School Class Teacher

Just as life doesn't ask you when to peak, death doesn't ask you when to come. It's rarely ever about you, really. But because it is about your people, the people in and around your life, it really will affect you. And because God is God, he will give you courtesy as His Child, which you'll mistake for confirmation that the inevitable will be delayed, or won't happen.

Loss is real. Loss is hard. Loss will find you. None of us can escape it. It doesn't matter who or what, when loss hits, it hits where it hurts the most. As if losing a friend can be handled (RIP Sibulele Mgudlwa), in less than 4 days, I receive the news that another incredible human being has left us. My High School Class Teacher, Meneer Teffo aka Mothokoa - if you got that close. I am here bleeding on my keyboard and as Rupi Kaur put it, I don't know if this writing is healing or detroying me. :'( :'(

You remember your first day in High School where there'll be that First Day Teacher Intro to the freshmen during Assembly, the Grade 8s? With everyone not knowing everyone and pulling their feet (because, where to go?), you ended up being at the front of the queue and was puzzled when this slender yet tall guy who would pass as one of the learners was introduced as a teacher. What??? :O :O In your head you're already wondering about his Survival Kit, his day-to-day Defense Mechanism because you know, school kids? Your thoughts are then justified by stories from the older learners that his days are from hell! You know how they say that the best revenge or cure for hate is love (and a sound mind - don't ask me how that's possible!)? Mothokoa was just that. He didn't give a single fuck about rowdy PP's and her friends, boPrince and their friends in the corner, or any learner for that matter, yet he had time for everyone somehow (an analogy I can never comprehend.). Lessons continued with rolled papers flying over our heads, a Charles at the back of the corner talking to a Prudence by the door. If you thought Van Wilder is about a wild, rowdy kid or that American Pie's Stiffler was the ultimate rowdy kid, YOU NEEDED TO BE IN OUR CLASS 'CAUSE YOU MISSED OUT. I bet you're thinking we were disrespectful and unruly, and and and, but we weren't - we were good kids with a great teacher that we didn't deserve (my Christian alter ego coming in) but we needed him (my realism alter ego kicking in).

Mothokoa knew what potential looked like, recognised it, and groomed it. He wouldn't let your potential slide just like that, he wasn't about that life. You were on your own but he was your little light that shined (or is it shone; Grammar Cops where you at?) and showed you the way. I remember how we'd ditch our Geography Class and attend his Agric Class and he would rarely chase us away and we'd feel like we belonged, busy showing off and answering questions that had zilch to do with us and I almost thought I could switch classes and he was there asking, Are you about ocean currents and GIS or are you about manures and animal libidos? Fact that we don't have an answer to that question is the answer to why I didn't switch.

Not only was he theeee greatest teacher to happen to the Department of Education and our Circuit and Mahoai High School, he was a friend to learners also, the go-to guy, the teacher with the most, the Cool Tizza. He was here. He lived. He taught. He ran his race. Meneer Teffo, you'll be remembered always - never will you be forgotten. We are here because you were here.

[On a side note, he's the guy who made PP famous. He had pride and meaning when he called me with that name. Kea leboha, :) :)]

May you rest in Perfect Peace, Mothokoa. Ya hao tema o e kgathile.

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