Tuesday, November 5, 2024
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Echoes from My Past

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By Cana Badahun Shisha Nongkhlaw

Pine Mount School

An institution, deemed so highly

For it’s excellence;

Yet, this ostensible excellence,

Stands under the lens,

Of questioning persistence.

As I ponder on the grounds

Of what makes excellence,

I surmise, perhaps,

There’s a dearth of such essence.

Only thus,

Within it’s grandeur walls,

Of so said “excellence”

A post-colonial den it truly is!

Reeking of a potent elitist gist;

A milieu shaped by

Layers of social stratification,

A system rife with bias,

without hesitation.

Too many horrors behind its curtains,

My experience here, undeniably certain.

I was subject to scornful remarks,

I reminisce on moments,

A forceful slap landed upon my back,

For merely uttering my mother-tongue.

In this realm, social value reigned supreme,

Those without capital, left helpless,

Longing for empathy,

Yet, some teachers selective,

In whom they would assist;

Leaving marginalised voices,

Overlooked and dismissed.

Once, a case I now perceive as a mistake,

Bringing a cell phone to school,

A choice I’d remake,

Yet, prior to that,

I sought my assistant class teacher X’s consent,

Who kindly offered to safeguard it in her office,

An agreement meant.

Yet, when confronted later,

She denied it without hesitation;

Leaving me bewildered,

met with her false representation;

A blatant attempt to protect herself,

From further implication.

The purpose was simple;

I had reserved it for after-school tuitions

To coordinate a ride,

Safeguarding my safety,

Reaching out to my guardian,

Their presence to be.

But a student Y, in betrayal’s spree,

Reported against me,

Unleashing a chain of consequences, unforeseen,

That descended upon me, a burden unforeseen.

They punished me swiftly,

Confiscating my phone,

My mother’s pleas, countless and sincere,

But their ears remained deaf,

Their compassion astray

For daily use, a necessity it held,

Yet, they refused to listen,

Failing to understand,

An unfair impasse,

An injustice in play,

As their ears remained deaf,

Turning me away.

Accused of illegal actions against the school,

Insults rained upon me,

My captain badge stripped away,

Leaving me stranded

In a sea of embarrassment’s dismay.

Each day at school,

My peers looked upon me perplexed,

Their faces a mix of questioning and confusion, vexed,

I struggled to study, focus, my mind in disarray,

Amidst this turmoil, my mental health took a toll;

I could not bear each morning,

Each moment within those gates.

I longed for a new school,

A chance to restart,

But alas! My hopes were shattered,

It was too late to depart.

My board exams proved to be a challenge too,

Under the weight of my mental anguish,

I was unable to perform up to my full potential.

This distressing encounter

Has left me traumatised and scarred.

This testament stands, a testament of injustice;

A vivid imprint on the canvas of my school life,

A stark reminder of the pain and strife.

In our Moral Science classes,

Truth, they taught us to embrace.

Yet, their actions diverged

The values they professed.

The school anthem proudly proclaimed

It’s noble aim,

“For our cause is good and true,” it would acclaim.

“The high ideals we’re taught in school,

Shall always be our guide”,

The anthem would resound.

But alas! Pine Mount falls short

Of its proclaimed creed,

An irony indeed,

A stark disparity between word and deed.

A dawn of awareness, a truth hard and stark,

In the gilded cage of ostentatious superiority,

Where ‘excellence’ was just a veiled obscurity,

My time in this school, I navigated,

As a young girl

Surviving in the shadows, truths unspoken

But today, the revelation stands clear,

The potent toxicity beneath Pine Mount’s sphere

A chapter of my life,

Now closed with liberating glee.

(The author is from Shillong who is presently pursuing a double major in the disciplines of Data Science and Sociology at the University of Sydney)

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