A face-to-face conversation I had with one of my old students last night excited the trouble-seeking beast in me. I only thank God my villain was nowhere close to the scene. I would have committed first class murder. I taught this girl in 2005. And she’s fresh from the university now. This girl is the typically reserved type. But last night, anger stole her coyness from her as she blurted out her fury with pain and regret written legibly in her voice and blazing nakedly in her eyes.

According to this lady, she has been in a ‘waist-ful’ relationship with her junior high school Mathematics teacher for the past eleven years. This should mean her ‘romantic acrobatics’ with this teacher was born in 2005, when she was a mere teenager in JHS three, and at the time she was feverishly steeling herself to face WAEC in her final examination. She bitterly recounts how, in the past eleven years, her ‘underworld’ has served as the teacher’s traditional home where he sleeps, eats and drinks.

She’s now tired of providing this demanding pre-marital sex service to this teacher, and has humbly tabled her marriage request since she’s now done with at least, a first-degree university education. Ever since she submitted her petition to this childhood lover, he has been playing ‘hide and seek’ with her. She does not even remember the last time she heard from him. Her calls go through but are never answered. Her WhatsApp messages to him are marked as ‘read’ but receive no feedback. The story doesn’t end here. The teacher has arranged marriage with a different lady, and wedding plans have been far advanced. Her dreams of going to the altar to exchange vows with a teacher who has exercised his waist franchise on her for eleven good years have had a fatal crash.

Ain’t this teacher wicked? Isn’t it high time we clamped down on teachers who have made it their business to unleash those dirty dicks dangling between their Jabulani balls on teenage students? This story is not the first of its kind. There are several such stories of teachers who launch their waists on the very students they teach. Can’t we stop this nonsense?

Why can’t we seize the opportunity to inform these mischievous teachers that if they lack the wherewithal to patronise expensive ladies, they should kindly redirect their dicks to the commercial sex workers in Kwesimintsim Krobo Line, or Makola, in Accra, or one of those ‘bend-down boutique sisters ‘ at Takoradi Vienna City. It’s pay-as-you-go there. In case their pockets are not strong to afford the ten-Ghana cedis fixed price, they should engage in hire-purchase deliberations with the ‘sisters’.

And to you, that foolish student who has opened a wholesale shop down there for your teachers, I give it to you in strong terms of recommendation to ever enjoy walking that path. You’ll soon begin to give mouthwatering testimonies of living a sex-for-all life. Nonsense!

A Jet-Alan wrath.

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