My Encounter With A Bitter Teacher.

"What do you want to become when you grow up?" Miss Jones, my class teacher, asked me. Since I have always loved the brain behind the airplane and I hope to fly one someday, I immediately responded to her question with a smile " A Pilot ma'am."

"Great, I hope your dreams come true, make sure you don't give up on your dreams no matter how hard it may seem," She held my hands and wished me the best in life.

Miss Jones was my favorite class teacher who taught me when I was in Class Five in elementary school.

Her encouraging words were like a force to achieve my goals, as I was determined to work hard and eventually become a pilot.

I graduated from class 5 and gained admission into one of the prestigious secondary schools in town, where I met Miss Hoose.

"Miss Hoose is coming." Jacob, the class captain whispered, and suddenly all the children in my class were on their best behaviour.

The class was so calm and cold that I thought an angel had passed by.

"Why are they all fidgeting? I soliloquized; I was oblivious to who she was at first, coupled with the fact that I had never tasted the bitter side of learning until I saw her walking in.

She wore a very straight face. Miss Hoose was very petite, an average-height lady, dark in complexion, and looked like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"If you know you didn't do my assignment, come outside." She said as she walked in immediately, without even responding to our greetings that morning.

"Ha! I hope this woman doesn't kill my dreams of becoming a pilot because I need mathematics to become a pilot," I murmured.

From that moment on, I started to be so afraid of her subject—the most important subject ever—mathematics!

Whenever it was mathematics period, my heart would skip as she always wore a sneer whenever I tried to participate in her class, like I wasn't good enough to be in her class.

Her sarcastic look said, "You failure, just sit down already," kind of a vibe, and gradually I began to lose interest in mathematics.

That fateful morning, I curled up in bed and decided to sleep rather than attend Miss Hoose's class, and suddenly my doorknob moved, It was my dad: "Debra, ain't you going to school?" My dad asked, as it was almost 8:30 a.m. and I wasn't even dressed for school yet.

"No, Dad, I am not feeling too well. I have this metallic and sour taste in my mouth, and I think I have a fever," I started to shake like a jellyfish just to convince my dad I was sick.

My dad walked out, and I thought I had convinced him, only for him to return with Combisunate, a malaria drug, which had a very terrible smell that I felt like throwing up already. Worse was when he forced me to take the drugs so I'd feel better. As soon as it hit my taste buds, it was very unpleasant for my tongue, and it had a harsh and sour taste too, so I had to squeeze my face and close my eyes.

"Rest up; you'll feel better, he said as he covered me with my duvet. As soon as he left, I rushed into the toilet and threw up the drugs because I didn't swallow them.

Immediately, I knew I wouldn't keep up with this lie, so I walked up to him after a few hours and said, "Dad, what course can I study without mathematics? I feel left in a lurch during mathematics class; Miss Hoose lacks compassion and.." I let out tears to express my frustrations.

I saw how broken he felt as he wiped my tears. "Oh, my dear, I am so sorry about this. You need mathematics for almost any course. I promise to change your school. okay?" He hugged me and reassured me that I wasn't a failure.

That day was a turning point in my life. Dad promised to change my school, and he did. I met a more compassionate teacher who taught with love in my new school, and gradually I picked up again, and after three years I came out as the best student in mathematics.

I gained admission into the best university in my state to study the course of my dreams and later went on to complete my training in a pilot training school, and I am glad I didn't allow Miss Hoose to shatter my dreams with her unprofessional quality as a teacher.

I made Dad and my favourite teacher Miss Jones proud, as today I am graduating from the Nigerian College of Aviation and Technology as a first-class degree holder in aviation as a pilot.