B.K. Hamanya, though I am not sure if I have spelt his name correctly, was my Mathematics teacher in form three at Government Secondary School, Azare. I vividly remember that Mr. Danguma taught us Mathematics in form two in 1980, while Hamanya, a very tall and lanky Ghanaian whose signature style was always leaving the bottom of his shirt tucked into his trousers, became our Mathematics teacher in form three in 1981.

Professor Abdullahi Muhammed of the Federal University of Technology, Yola (FUTY), maintained the first position in all the terminal examinations, while Rabi’u Abdu Gwalabe, who retired not long ago from the Corporate Affairs Commission (CAC), consistently took second position in our class.

I cannot claim to have been a high-flying student like Abdullahi and Rabi’u, but I was not doing badly either. I came third, fifth, and sixth at different times. Indeed, I was far above average.

Everything changed when B.K. Hamanya took over as our Mathematics teacher in form three. I cannot say he hated me, but he treated me so badly that I came to hate Mathematics and anything associated with it because of him. I stopped attending his classes because he humiliated me in front of my classmates. He would write a question on the board and ask me to solve it. Instead of guiding me through the solution, as most caring teachers would do, Mr. Hamanya would shout at me, insult me, and say that my father had wasted his time by sending me to school. From that moment, I started running away from Mathematics classes until I completed secondary school. To show how much I hated Mathematics, I did not attempt a single question in WAEC. I answered only the objective section, wrote my name and examination number, and submitted the script.

That was how my dream and hope of studying Medicine were destroyed by my Mathematics teacher. Despite all the entreaties from my close friends—late Engr. Hassan Sabo Jama’are, Mukhtar Babani, Aminu Ya’u, and Ali Maji—to study science, I could not be convinced because I knew I could not make it. I can still picture the disappointment on their faces when I chose to study Arts instead.

To cut the story short, I met B.K. Hamanya by chance in either 1998 or 1999—almost 18 years later—while I was working as a Corporate Affairs Officer at the former Inland Bank Nigeria Plc (now FCMB) at the bank’s then corporate headquarters in Bauchi. As I parked my Mercedes-Benz 190, dressed in a black suit, black shoes, a white shirt, and a silver tie, I saw him stepping out of a small white Volkswagen Beetle. When our eyes met, a deep feeling of anguish overwhelmed me. I immediately recalled everything he had done to me, while he smiled warmly at the sight of one of his former students.

We shook hands. Holding my hand, he smiled and praised me for being one of “his” successful students.

I told him that I had obtained a degree in Mass Communication and a postgraduate diploma in Management. I also told him that I had worked with The Citizen and Sentinel weekly magazines before joining Inland Bank. I was blunt with him. I spoke my mind in a direct, honest, and plain manner without trying to be polite or soften my feelings about what he had done to me. I noticed how deeply my words affected him. He pleaded for my forgiveness and explained that he had acted the way he did because he wanted me to learn the subject.

I told him that that was not the best way to treat a student. He never made me feel at home by showing kindness, listening to my difficulties, or creating a safe and encouraging environment in his classroom. Because of his actions, I did not study what I valued most, nor did I become what I had dreamed of becoming.

However, I thank Allah for His immense favours upon me. I am content with the path He has chosen for me.

Teachers should not see their pupils and students as mere learners. They should treat them as they would treat their own children because they are father figures and role models.

Despite the anguish and resentment I held against Mr. B.K. Hamanya for 18 long years, I thank God that I eventually met him and expressed the pain I had carried in my heart. He asked for my forgiveness, and we embraced.

May Almighty God guide and protect Mr. B.K. Hamanya, ease his affairs, and grant him success wherever he may be.

Saleh Bature is a freelance journalist. He wrote the article from Kano-Nigeria. He can be reached at [email protected].