Liberian Literary Magazine
April Issue 0415
Benjamin Oppong Clifford
covered with laughs
It was an old story: he would be thrown
out again
“Show me your receipt”, the Teacher
requested
“If you don't have go home”, a boy
retorted
“No printing fee, no paper”, another
dared
to shout
...And now, they all teased
"I‟m sorry you will have to go home" said
the Teacher
He stood up, opened his mouth as if to
cry
then shut it
"Go on, do you have anything to say?"
Teacher urged
In tears, he closed his eyes, clapped
both
palms together
And like a humble prayer, he said:
"I don't want to be like Kwabena, my
elder
brother
Who lost his education a day like this
His daily bread is now oven by the red
light on the street”
“I don't want my mother to keep wishing
for graduates
Yet crying for the fact that she can't
afford
one
I don't want any of my mates here think
me dumb
Because I have not the chance to prove
myself”
“Don't talk of my father, he is long resting
and heaven is far away from here
He too had a task for me: “Become an
engineer!”
Please Sir, Allow me education and one
day we both won't regret”
This minute, you are deleting a future
This minute, you can create a destiny
Class 3 Printing Fee
He stood in a tired uniform
well ironed and tucked
And his shorts fusiform
Today was exams day and he couldn't
wait
to write
He walked to his Mum for the usual
morning blessings
She tried to tell him that he probably
should stay home
He bowed his head and she threw her
eyes
away
They both knew why... why it was best to
stay
But he knew what to say...
What to tell his teacher's cane and his
mates who might laugh again
Of why he will write but can't pay
His Mother knew it would be another day
when her second child
Will end education and chase after life
around the traffic light
She sensed the aroma of history
repeating
itself today
And tried harder to keep him at home
But the little boy went to school
Ready to tell all about why he will write
but can't pay
They were many kids seated in arranged
rows and columns
He saw the blank desk. It was Obvious
Kweku wouldn't come
One by one, the teacher inspected their
printing-fee receipts
Some showed a full year, others for the
term...
And he sat there, hoping to do magic
At last the teacher got to his desk
Every child was watching with their faces
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