Open Letter #1: To My Favorite Teacher

Wish I had his real photo. But this will do. ☺ (c) Google Images

Dear Mr. Gyasi,

I hope this letter finds you well wherever you may be. It has been about eighteen years since we last met but it feels like it was just yesterday when I sat in your class in third grade at Cambridge International School. I used to be one of the last pupils to report to class each morning and though you showed your displeasure, you never made me suffer the consequences of missing what you had taught so far. 

I remember you requesting to see my parents so you could let them know how my lateness to class could be detrimental to my academic progress. (It wasn’t entirely their fault though; the traffic at the time was unbearable)! My mum still remembers that encounter to this day. She keeps asking me if I have heard of you. And so does a dear old classmate of mine. It’s unfortunate that I have no way of tracking you since you left the school after we graduated to the fourth grade. But in case you get to ever read this letter, know that I always thank God for your life. 

I have had several amazing teachers throughout my school-going years but the impact you had on me and the memories I have of you surpass all the others. I remember the professionalism, patience and enthusiasm with which you taught my class every subject. Our mates from other classes used to tease us that we had a strict teacher and so we didn’t have as much fun as they did. But I’m sure everyone who was privileged to be part of your class would today testify that was one of the best experiences we ever had. 

I remember how seriously you took our performance in French such that you could spare anyone who scored less than 50% in the final exam in any other subject but would definitely administer the cane on anyone who dared to score 49%. Thanks to you, I took French seriously enough to study it in senior high school and the university.

I remember the many parcels of appreciation you received from our parents on the last day of school each term because just like my mother, they could see the fruits of your efforts budding in us. You were approachable like a dear father and proportionately strict as well. If all teachers were like you, then our nation could be assured of raising a generation of responsible, well-disciplined and learned people to take over the helm of affairs. What a bright future we would have!

Nonetheless, I believe those of us who got the chance to be groomed by you would not fail to make you proud in whatever endeavor we find ourselves. You were the epitome of a gentleman with a chalk. I can still picture you vividly in your short-sleeved white shirt with your khaki trousers. Even if I were to lose some memories due to ageing, I’m sure yours would stay with me. That’s how much you mean to me.

May God bless you wherever you are, Mr. Gyasi. May God repay you for all your investments in us and may your latter days be more satisfying than your former days. And if you have happened to leave us in this world, I pray you are resting contentedly in the bosom of our heavenly father.

With much love,

Josephine.

*****

I’m so emotional right now. Verily, verily I say to you, he is one of the best teachers that has ever lived. So this is the debut of my open letters and if Mr. Gyasi is my first recipient, then you can imagine what a great deal he means to me. 

If you have any teacher you consider memorable that you would like to pen an open letter to, go right ahead! I can’t wait to read them. If he/she was the meanest you’ve ever come across as well, I’d love to read that too. Send me a pingback so I don’t miss it. Mandy and Samira, are you up for it?

Happy New Month, by the way. I pray we all have a September to remember. 

(c) Josephine Amoako 2016