METRO

Murtala would have transformed Nigeria if he hadn’t been killed – Ibrahim, brother

Published

5 months ago

July 4, 2024

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Alhaji Ibrahim Ramat

On Friday, February 13, 1976, 43 years ago, the then military ruler, General Murtala Ramat Muhammed, was assassinated by a group of soldiers loyal to Lt Col Buka Dimka shortly after 8am. Muhammed had set off for work in his Mercedes Benz and was in traffic near the federal secretariat at Ikoyi in Lagos when the soldiers reportedly emerged from an adjacent petrol station and shot him dead. He was killed along with his aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Akintunde Akinsehinwa…Click Here To Continue Reading>> …Click Here To Continue Reading>>

His assassination was part of a coup attempt led by Dimka, who was the head of the Nigerian Army Physical Training Corps. His death was said to have led to a state of pandemonium. In Lagos, people reportedly chose to stay indoors for fear of being caught in gunfire that could break out between troops loyal to the late ruler and those loyal to Dimka.

Dimka went to the premises of Radio Nigeria at Ikoyi, where he made a broadcast to the nation. In the broadcast, he cited corruption, indecision, arrest and detention without trial, weakness on the part of the Head of State and maladministration in general as the reasons for his actions. Troops loyal to the Federal Government then attempted to take control of the radio station from the coup plotters and Dimka was said to have narrowly escaped from the gunfire.

The station was later recaptured by troops loyal to the Federal Government. Dimka was eventually arrested in Eastern Nigeria. He and 38 military officers and civilians were found guilty following a court martial and executed by firing squad.

Muhammed was military ruler for less than a year as he had only assumed the position on July 30, 1975, about 200 days earlier, when he was made head of state after General Yakubu Gowon was overthrown while at an Organisation of African Unity summit in Kampala, Uganda. Subsequently, Olusegun Obasanjo and Theophilus Danjuma, both brigadiers at the time, were appointed as Chief of Staff, Supreme Headquarters and Chief of Army Staff respectively.

Alhaji Ibrahim Ramat, the younger brother of the late Head of State, Muhammed, in this interview with TED ODOGWU, recalls how the news of the assassination of his elder brother made the family sad

Murtala Muhammed, a former military Head of State, was killed in Lagos traffic, while on his way to Dodan Barracks on February 13, 1976. What do you remember about that fateful day?

That fateful day shocked me and the entire family members of the late General Murtala Muhammed, including his brothers. The day my elder brother was killed will remain an unforgettable day. It was indeed unfortunate. Ever since that time, we have been praying, asking the Almighty God to receive his gentle soul, to enable him to rest in peace.

Do you recall what the general mood was like in the country after the incident?

I went out on that day and saw people running in different directions, searching for where to take cover as they believed that war had broken out. That did not only happen in Kano; all Nigerians were shocked at the sad incident. The late Murtala Muhammed was not only talented, he was also an asset to Nigeria. He contributed immensely to the growth and development of the country. He fought with his last blood to ensure that Nigeria remained an indivisible country. The country is great today, thanks to the late Murtala Muhammed, who fought to ensure the peace, unity and stability of the country. He was instrumental to the relocation of the Federal Capital Territory to Abuja. If not for Murtala Muhammed, who fought to ensure that there was peace and unity in the country, there wouldn’t have been a conducive environment for politics to thrive, which the country is currently enjoying. It was through his courage, forthrightness and commitment that the country has remained politically stable. I am proud that a blood brother of mine contributed to the growth and development of the country. Forty-three years after the death of General Murtala Muhammed, I am happy that Nigerians have not forgotten him, and that the country remembers him and marks the anniversary of his death every February 13, as if he died yesterday.

It was until the following day that his death was announced. Do you think it was an attempt to hold back the information or he didn’t die on the spot?

Well, what the people were saying was that it was a coup attempt. It was planned to kill him and God accepted their plan; that was why they succeeded. However, there is life hereafter and by God’s grace, the matter would be judged where we would all meet to part no more.

The Dimka-led coup that cost Murtala Muhammed his life was not the first in Nigeria’s political history, as there had been coups in January and July 1966, but that coup appeared to have been unpopular. In your view, why was it different from the others?

You know that God does not like cheating. Eventually, there would be divine retribution. That is the reason why the coup that cost Murtala Muhammed his life cannot be compared with the other ones. He believed in equity and justice for all. He believed in ‘what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander’. He was a gallant soldier, as well as a giant of Africa, who believed in sincerity and straightforwardness.

He spent less than a year in office – about 201 days – but he appeared to be very popular among the people, considering how he is being honoured and remembered till today. What kind of leader was he?

He is being honoured today every year, mainly because of the good legacies he left behind, as a reputable man of honour and reverence. He believed in the truth and nothing but the truth! He was very firm and often stood by truth and equal justice for all.

Before he became Head of State, what kind of officer was he or did he have any antecedents that could have foretold that he would one day occupy that office?

Muhammed was initially a brigadier and later he was announced as the head of state. When he was young, his body language had always said that sometime in future, he would emerge as the head of state. In his prime, he was always very active, independent and often displayed the spirit of courage and firmness.

People often describe him as a fine gentleman, but for him to have championed the coup that ousted Gowon when he was in power shows that he was also a typical military officer. Do you think he was pushed because the assumption is that fine officers don’t plan coup?

I do not have any idea of that scenario because I am a politician and not a military man. That question is meant for soldiers and certainly not for someone like me, who is a politician.

People tend to downplay the fact that he also ousted another officer (Yakubu Gowon) to become the head of state. Why do you think people overlook that?

I do not have any answer to that question, as I earlier told you, I am a politician and not a soldier.

Sometimes, when there is a coup, the leader is killed. Do you think Gowon would have been killed if he were in the country at that time?

Also, I do not have an idea as to whether Gowon would have been killed if he was in the country at that time, as I am not a soldier but rather a politician.

Murtala Muhammed’s assassination was considered as quite easy, as he was killed in traffic, with only his orderly, armed with a pistol in the Mercedes Benz car he was when he was killed. Would you say he was always that simple?

I do not have an answer to that question because I was not with him at that time, as my only relationship with him was that I was his younger brother. Besides, he was assassinated in Lagos, while I was in Kano, so I am not in a position to recall what transpired at that time.

And was that simplicity his undoing?

You should be aware that anybody who fears God would not be afraid of anything. Murtala Muhammed was a devout Muslim, who was always prayerful. To this end, he was not afraid of the unknown, as he surrendered his fate and destiny to God, which was partly responsible for his simplicity.

Can we say that he could have been saved if he had the normal convoy of armed escorts or the coup plotters would still have had their way?

Maybe he would have been saved as the present crop of leaders always move about in convoy, with their armed escorts. Unfortunately, Murtala, as Head of State, was neither with any convoy nor armed escorts at the time he was killed. He was only with his orderly, who was armed with a pistol. Who knows what would have happened if he had been in company with security operatives. But don’t also forget that as a Muslim, anything that God wants, at the time he wants it to happen, will definitely happen, no matter the circumstances. By the grace of God, Murtala would continue to rest in peace.

Was it considered strange at the time that a military Head of State would be in traffic in Lagos, with no serious security detail with him?

I could recall that as a child, not more than 15 to 16 years old and during every holiday, I used to visit my elder brother, the late Head of State, General Murtala Muhammed. I can remember that at the time, his way of life and conducts were very different from how others behaved. As I earlier told you, what I can categorically say, without fear of contradiction, is that the late General Murtala Muhammed was a devout Muslim. He was also a fearless and gallant soldier who was not afraid of anybody.

Obasanjo’s regime later captured Dimka and himself and his cohorts were sentenced to firing squad. Do you think Dimka would have regretted his action, especially, as he didn’t succeed in taking over government?

I do not know if Dimka regretted his actions or not.

From historical perspective, do you agree with the belief that Murtala Muhammed enjoyed the cleanest legacy of any Nigerian military leader?

As I earlier told you, Murtala was a straightforward and fearless soldier, who only spoke the truth. That was what I noticed about his character and way of life while I was growing up as a child. READ FULL STORY HERE>>>CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE READING>>>

There was a rumour that the US Central Intelligence Agency had a hand in Murtala Muhammed’s death. What do you think was responsible for this notion?

I do not know if the US CIA had a hand in Murtala’s death, as I am not an international analyst to determine or insinuate that theory.

How did Nigerians and the Nigerian Government react to this rumour?

As I earlier told you, the Nigerian government and the people of the country were indescribably worried about the assassination of Murtala Muhammed. People were weeping and shedding tears of sorrow and agony because of the worrisome development.

In Murtala Muhammed’s 201 days in office, what actions defined his government and what kind of reforms did he introduce in Government?

First, the local government reforms were introduced by the late Murtala Muhammed. The relocation of the seat of power from Lagos to Abuja was initiated by him. Also, during his administration, he rejected the imposition of taxes, and also stopped the practice by Nigerians to be buying water, which he made free for all Nigerians.

He created seven states and initiated plans to build a new capital, following the over congestion of Lagos. How did Nigerians react to the development at that time?

Nigerians were overwhelmed with joy and excitement after Murtala Muhammed announced that the federal capital would be relocated to Abuja. They were confident and satisfied with his sense of judgment.

Some reports say that when Obasanjo handed over power to a civilian government in 1979, he was fulfilling Mohammed’s plan. How true is this notion? Was it Mohammed’s idea to hand over power to a civilian government later?

Yes, exactly, that was the plan. I am sure of that action. When General Obasanjo assumed power, he was quoted as saying that he would implement all the promises made by late General Murtala Muhammed to hand over power to the political class, which was what informed Obasanjo’s move to hand over power to civilians in 1979.

If true, was the motive behind the coup that brought your brother to power about returning Nigeria to a democratic government?

No sooner had the late General Murtala Muhammed taken over power than he promised Nigerians that at a particular time, he would hand over power (to someone else). However, he did not hand over to the political class until after his death that Obasanjo fulfilled the promise of handing over power to a civilian government.

Even as a northerner, he was said to have cancelled the 1973 census, which was alleged to have heavily favoured the North. Do you know what really happened?

I have no idea of what informed my late brother’s decision to cancel the 1973 census.

At the time Murtala Muhammed was killed, Nigeria was hosting an international tennis competition and some foreign sports men were in the country, including the famous ex-footballer, Pele; did the situation lead to panic in the international community?

No, it certainly did not tarnish the image of Nigeria in the international community. Rather, members of the international community were sad about the assassination of General Murtala Muhammed.

Your brother was believed to have played a major role in the counter-coup of July 1966, following pressure on northerners on people like him in the military. Can he be described as tribalistic, like many Nigerians?

Murtala Muhammed was a detribalised military officer, who believed in the unity, peaceful co-existence, as well as the stability of Nigeria as a single entity.

What was the motive behind the coup that brought Murtala Muhammed to power, which deposed General Gowon?

During the tenure of Yakubu Gowon, he made several promises to Nigerians to hand over power to the political class, which he never fulfilled. Murtala Muhammed was uncomfortable with his antecedents, which was part of what informed his decision to topple Gowon’s regime, so as to hand over power to a civilian government at a specific time.

Was the motive behind the coup by Col Buka Dimka, which led to the death of Murtala Muhammed, about the tribal issues in the country or strictly about hijacking power?

I do not have an idea behind Dimka’s motive to stage the coup.

Murtala Muhammed was an active player in the Nigerian Civil War, during which he was alleged to have ordered the summary execution of Biafran prisoners of war, generally known as Asaba Massacre and the people of Asaba may not forgive him in a hurry. What does history have to say about this?

I have no idea of what history will say about the massacre.

His loudest critics always refer to the alleged Asaba massacre when they talk about Muhammed today. Going by history, do you think they are justified?

I do not have an idea of that.

If Muhammed had not been killed prematurely, how do you think his government would have been?

If Murtala Muhammed had not been killed, Nigeria would have been a lot more stabilised and organised than the state it is currently. Most of the hardship Nigerians are currently grappling with would never have been there. As I earlier told you, Murtala was an upright man and a firm soldier, who obeyed law and order. His mission was to pilot Nigeria to the next level of economic development and prosperity, which had never been witnessed in the history of the country. He started doing this when he took over power but it was botched following his brutal assassination by Dimka.

Some people believe that he would have transformed the country if he had spent more time in power, did it look like that?

If Murtala had spent more time in power, he would have economically transformed the country beyond what we have today.

Can we say the way he was killed influenced how political office holders today now have many vehicles, with armed security agents in their convoy?

Many politicians of today have learnt a great lesson from Murtala Muhammed’s mistake, which cost him his life, as they now move about town with heavily armed escorts. That is why the current politicians do not toy with their security as they move about town with heavily armed security guards to ward off any unforeseen attacks by enemies of progress.

Do you think the Nigerian government has done enough for the family members of the late General Murtala Muhammed?

No, the government has indeed abandoned the family members of the late General Murtala Muhammed, as no government official has in the last 10 years visited his mother’s home located at the back of Kurawa Central Prison, Kano. The home is already dilapidated, with poor drainage system. The condition of the only toilet within the building has deteriorated and his younger brother and his immediate family members go here and there when they need to use toilets.

What in your opinion has the government not done for the family members of the late Murtala Muhammed, which they have been extending to other late Head of State’s family members?

The truth is that the family members of the late General Murtala Muhammed have been completely abandoned, as there is no security presence in his home, where he used to stay whenever he visited Kano. There is security presence at the residence of the late General Sani Abacha. The late Murtala Muhammed was a superior officer to both the late General Abacha and President Muhammadu Buhari, who is currently in power. President Buhari should do something about the current hardship the family members of Murtala Muhammed are facing. When Murtala was alive, Buhari, Ibrahim Babangida and the late Abacha used to visit his mother at the back Kano Central Prison.

SOURCE.

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METRO

Racist Teacher Bullies Black Girl In Class, Unaware She’s the Daughter of the Principal –

Published

1 day ago

November 19, 2024

1oo9t

A biased and racist teacher, a classroom full of tension, but there’s a twist that no one saw coming, and it’s about to expose years of hidden prejudice. Get ready for a story that will make you rethink what really goes on behind closed classroom doors.

The bell rang, signaling the start of another day at Westfield High. Miss Roberts stood at the front of her English class, her stern gaze sweeping over the students as they settled into their seats. The air felt thick with unease—a familiar tension that always seemed to accompany her lessons. As the last few stragglers hurried in, a new face appeared in the doorway…Click Here To Continue Reading>> …Click Here To Continue Reading>>

Jasmine King stepped into the room, her backpack slung over one shoulder. The other students’ eyes followed her—some curious, others wary. Miss Roberts’s lips tightened into a thin line as she watched Jasmine make her way to an empty desk.

“Well, well,” Miss Roberts said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “It seems we have a new addition to our class. I do hope you can keep up with our rigorous curriculum.” The way she emphasized “rigorous” made it clear she had her doubts.

Jasmine met her gaze steadily but said nothing. As Miss Roberts turned back to the board, the atmosphere in the room shifted, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. The tension in the classroom was palpable. What happens when a teacher’s prejudice collides with a student’s quiet strength? Jasmine’s next move could change everything.

Miss Roberts cleared her throat, her eyes narrowing as they settled on Jasmine. “Today, we’ll be discussing the themes of power and oppression in To Kill a Mockingbird. Who would like to start?” Her gaze swept the room, deliberately avoiding Jasmine’s raised hand. After calling on several other students, Miss Roberts finally acknowledged Jasmine with a tight-lipped smile.

“Yes, Miss King, do you have something to contribute?”

Jasmine straightened in her seat, her voice steady. “I believe the novel shows how systemic racism—”

“Systemic racism?” Miss Roberts interrupted, her tone dripping with condescension. “My dear, I think you’re confusing this classic American novel with some modern political agenda.”

A ripple of unease passed through the classroom. Some students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, while others smirked, eagerly anticipating the drama unfolding before them. Jasmine took a deep breath, her fingers curling around the edge of her desk.

“With all due respect, Miss Roberts, the racial injustice in the book is a reflection of—”

“That’s quite enough,” Miss Roberts cut her off again, waving a dismissive hand. “Perhaps you should focus on understanding the text as it’s written, rather than trying to impose your own interpretations.”

The air in the room grew thick with tension. Jasmine’s jaw clenched, her eyes never leaving Miss Roberts’s face. She remained silent, but her posture spoke volumes—a quiet defiance that seemed to unsettle the teacher even more. Miss Roberts turned back to the whiteboard, her marker squeaking as she wrote.

“Now, let’s discuss the actual themes the author intended. Can anyone tell me about the symbolism of the mockingbird?”

As the lesson continued, Miss Roberts pointedly ignored Jasmine’s attempts to participate. Every time Jasmine raised her hand, the teacher’s gaze would slide past her as if she were invisible. The message was clear: Jasmine’s voice was not welcome in this classroom. Other students began to take notice; a few exchanged worried glances, their discomfort growing with each passing minute. Others, however, seemed to feed off the teacher’s behavior, throwing sidelong smirks in Jasmine’s direction.

Jasmine’s frustration was evident in the set of her shoulders and the tightness around her eyes. Yet she remained composed, her pen moving steadily across her notebook as she took meticulous notes—a small act of resistance, a refusal to be silenced or pushed out of her education.

As the class neared its end, Miss Roberts announced a group project. “I’ll be assigning the groups. We wouldn’t want anyone to feel out of place.” The implications of her words hung heavy in the air. Jasmine’s eyes narrowed slightly, recognizing the challenge for what it was. She squared her shoulders, meeting Miss Roberts’s gaze with quiet determination.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, students began to file out. Jasmine took her time gathering her things, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Just as she reached the door, Miss Roberts called out.

“Miss King, a word.”

Jasmine turned, her expression carefully neutral. “Yes, Miss Roberts?”

The teacher’s smile was thin and sharp. “I hope you understand that in this class, we focus on facts and analysis, not personal opinions or agendas. I’d hate to see you struggle because you can’t separate your feelings from the curriculum.”

For a moment, Jasmine said nothing. Then, with a calm that belied the storm brewing inside her, she replied, “I understand perfectly, Miss Roberts. I look forward to demonstrating my analysis skills in our next discussion.”

With that, she turned and walked out, leaving Miss Roberts staring after her, a flicker of uncertainty crossing the teacher’s face.

As the days passed, Miss Roberts’s initial uncertainty hardened into cold resolve. She’d show that girl exactly who was in charge, no matter the cost. The next class would reveal the depths of her prejudice and test Jasmine’s strength like never before.

The following week, Jasmine entered the classroom with her head held high, determined to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Miss Roberts stood at the front, her eyes narrowing as Jasmine took her seat. The air crackled with tension, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

As the lesson began, Miss Roberts’s focus on Jasmine intensified. Every movement, every word became subject to scrutiny.

“Miss King, is that gum I see you chewing?” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

Jasmine froze, her hand halfway to her mouth. She wasn’t chewing gum at all. “No, Miss Roberts, I—”

“Don’t lie to me, young lady. Spit it out this instant.” Miss Roberts’s voice dripped with disdain.

Jasmine’s classmates shifted uncomfortably, some averting their eyes, while others watched with morbid fascination. Jasmine stood slowly, her movements deliberate. She walked to the trash can, pantomimed spitting out non-existent gum, and returned to her seat. The silence in the room was deafening.

As the class progressed, Miss Roberts’s behavior grew increasingly brazen. She nitpicked every aspect of Jasmine’s participation—from her handwriting to her posture.

“Sit up straight, Miss King. This isn’t some casual hangout spot,” she barked, ignoring the fact that Jasmine’s posture was no different from her peers’.

Jasmine’s frustration was evident in the tightness of her jaw and the way her fingers curled around her pen. She took deep breaths, struggling to maintain her composure as the onslaught continued. The class dynamics began to shift. Some students, like Sarah in the front row, shot sympathetic glances at Jasmine when Miss Roberts wasn’t looking. Others, emboldened by the teacher’s behavior, joined in with snickers and whispered comments.

During a group discussion, Jasmine raised her hand to contribute. Miss Roberts’s lips curved into a cold smile.

“Yes, Miss King, do enlighten us with your unique perspective.”

Jasmine’s voice was steady as she began to speak, but Miss Roberts interrupted almost immediately. “I’m sorry, but could you please enunciate more clearly? We can’t all understand certain dialects.”

A collective gasp rippled through the classroom. Jasmine’s eyes widened, her hands clenching into fists beneath her desk. The racism, once veiled, now stood naked and ugly before them all.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Miss Roberts called out, “Miss King, please see me after class. We need to discuss your performance.”

Jasmine approached the teacher’s desk, her heart pounding but her expression carefully neutral.

Miss Roberts looked up, her eyes cold. “I hope you understand, Miss King, that your attitude is becoming a problem. If you can’t adapt to the standards of this class, perhaps you should consider finding a more suitable environment.”

The implication hung heavy in the air. Jasmine took a deep breath, her voice low but firm. “I understand perfectly, Miss Roberts. I’ll continue to do my best, as I always have.”

As Jasmine turned to leave, Miss Roberts called out, “Oh, and Miss King, don’t forget your group project presentation is due next week. I do hope you’re prepared.”

Jasmine nodded, her mind already racing. She knew the presentation would be a turning point. Miss Roberts would use it as an opportunity to humiliate her in front of the entire class, but Jasmine was determined not to give her that satisfaction.

The air crackled with anticipation as Jasmine stepped up to deliver her presentation. Little did she know, Miss Roberts had been waiting for this moment to unleash her most brutal attack yet. What would happen when prejudice and power collided in front of the entire class?

Jasmine took a deep breath, steadying herself as she faced her classmates. She had spent countless hours preparing for this moment, determined to prove herself despite Miss Roberts’s constant belittling. The project board behind her displayed a meticulously researched analysis of To Kill a Mockingbird, focusing on the themes of racial injustice and moral courage.

As Jasmine began her presentation, Miss Roberts’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a smirk. She watched like a predator waiting to pounce, her pen tapping impatiently against her grading sheet. The other students shifted uneasily in their seats, sensing the tension in the air.

Halfway through her presentation, Jasmine paused to answer questions. Miss Roberts’s hand shot up immediately.

“Miss King,” she drawled, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “I’m curious about your choice

of focus. Don’t you think you’re overemphasizing certain aspects of the novel?”

Jasmine’s brow furrowed slightly, but her voice remained steady. “I believe the racial themes are central to understanding the book’s message. Harper Lee herself said—”

“I’m well aware of what the author said,” Miss Roberts interrupted, her tone sharp, “but I’m more interested in why you seem unable to appreciate the broader literary merits beyond your personal biases.”

A collective gasp rippled through the classroom. Jasmine’s hands clenched at her sides, her carefully maintained composure beginning to crack.

“I don’t believe my analysis is biased, Miss Roberts. I’ve supported each point with textual evidence and scholarly sources.”

Miss Roberts stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She strode to the front of the room, positioning herself between Jasmine and the rest of the class.

“Let me make something clear, Miss King. This constant focus on race is not only misguided but also disruptive to the learning environment. Perhaps in your previous school, such narrow interpretations were acceptable, but here, we expect a higher level of academic rigor.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Some students stared at their desks, unable to meet Jasmine’s eyes, while others watched with a mix of horror and morbid fascination as their teacher continued her tirade.

“Furthermore,” Miss Roberts pressed on, her voice rising, “your insistence on inserting modern political agendas into classic literature is not only inappropriate but also demonstrates a fundamental lack of understanding. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re truly capable of handling the curriculum at this level.”

Jasmine’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she refused to back down. “Miss Roberts, I respectfully disagree. The themes of racial injustice in To Kill a Mockingbird are as relevant today as they were when the book was written. Ignoring them does a disservice to the author’s intent and—”

“Enough,” Miss Roberts snapped. “Your attitude is bordering on insubordination. I suggest you take your seat and reflect on whether you’re truly prepared for the academic standards of this class.”

As Jasmine slowly gathered her materials, the weight of humiliation pressing down on her shoulders, a small voice piped up from the back of the room.

“But I thought Jasmine’s presentation was really good.”

Miss Roberts whirled around, her eyes flashing. “And what would you know about literary analysis, Mr. Peterson? Perhaps you’d like to join Miss King in detention to discuss your own academic shortcomings.”

The student shrank back in his seat, effectively silenced. Miss Roberts turned back to Jasmine, who stood frozen by her desk.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Sit down so we can move on to presentations actually worth our time.”

Jasmine sank into her chair, her face burning with a mixture of anger and shame. She could feel the eyes of her classmates on her—some sympathetic, others cruelly amused. The injustice of it all threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to take slow, steady breaths. As Miss Roberts called the next student to present, Jasmine’s mind raced. She knew she couldn’t let this continue, but what could she do? The teacher held all the power, and speaking out would only lead to more humiliation.

For now, she would have to endure, but a quiet determination began to build within her. This wasn’t over.

As Jasmine sat in her seat, her mind racing with thoughts of justice and retribution, fate was about to deal an unexpected hand. The classroom door opened, and Miss Roberts looked up, a smug smile playing on her lips.

“Class, I have an important announcement,” Miss Roberts declared, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’ve decided it’s time for a parent-teacher conference regarding Miss King’s performance.”

Jasmine’s heart raced, a mix of dread and defiance coursing through her veins. She knew her father would stand up for her, but the thought of him confronting Miss Roberts filled her with anxiety. The other students exchanged glances—some worried, others curious about what would happen next. Miss Roberts continued, oblivious to the storm brewing just beyond her classroom walls.

“I’ve requested a meeting with Miss King’s parents after school today. I’m sure they’ll be very interested to hear about her disruptive behavior and subpar academic performance.”

As the words left Miss Roberts’s mouth, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. They were steady, purposeful, growing louder with each passing second. The entire class seemed to hold its breath, sensing that something momentous was about to unfold.

The footsteps stopped just outside the door. There was a brief pause, pregnant with possibility, before a firm knock broke the silence. Miss Roberts’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“Come in,” she called out, her voice tinged with irritation.

The door swung open, revealing a tall, distinguished-looking man in a crisp suit. His presence immediately commanded attention, and a ripple of recognition passed through the students. It was Mr. King, the school principal. Jasmine’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and relief washing over her face. She glanced at Miss Roberts, who was still blissfully unaware of the connection between the new arrival and her targeted student.

Mr. King stepped into the room, his eyes quickly scanning the faces before him. They lingered for a moment on Jasmine, a flicker of concern passing between them. Then he turned to Miss Roberts, his expression neutral but his posture radiating authority.

“Miss Roberts,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of steel, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

Miss Roberts straightened, plastering on her most professional smile. “Not at all, Mr. King. We were just wrapping up a lesson on To Kill a Mockingbird. Is there something I can help you with?” READ FULL STORY HERE>>>CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE READING>>>

Mr. King nodded, his eyes now fixed on the teacher. “Actually, there is. I understand you’ve requested a parent-teacher conference regarding one of your students.”

Miss Roberts’s smile widened, clearly pleased that her authority was being recognized. “Yes, that’s correct. I believe it’s crucial to address certain issues before they become more problematic.”

“I see. And which student might this be?” Mr. King replied, his tone neutral.

Miss Roberts turned, gesturing toward Jasmine with a dismissive wave. “Miss King, actually. No relation to you, of course,” she added, chuckling at her own joke, oblivious to the growing tension in the room.

Mr. King’s eyebrow raised slightly, the only outward sign of his reaction. “Is that so? Well, Miss Roberts, I believe we should discuss this matter further—perhaps in private.”

Miss Roberts nodded eagerly, already imagining the support she would receive from the principal. “Of course, Mr. King. I’d be happy to share my concerns about Miss King’s performance and attitude.”

As Miss Roberts began gathering her materials, Mr. King turned to address the class. “Students, please continue with your assigned reading. We’ll only be a moment.” He then looked directly at Jasmine, a small, reassuring smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It was a subtle gesture but one that spoke volumes.

Jasmine sat up straighter, feeling a surge of confidence she hadn’t experienced in weeks.

Miss Roberts, still oblivious to the true nature of the situation, led the way out of the classroom. Mr. King followed, pausing briefly at the door to cast one last glance at his daughter. The look they shared was one of understanding and shared strength.

As the door closed behind them, a buzz of excited whispers filled the room. Students leaned across desks, speculating about what was about to unfold. Jasmine remained silent, her eyes fixed on the door, knowing that beyond it, justice was finally about to be served.

The closed door couldn’t muffle the rising voices outside. Miss Roberts’s confident tone gave way to stammering confusion as Mr. King’s calm filled the air. How would the teacher’s attitude shift when she discovered Jasmine’s true identity?

Miss Roberts led the way to an empty conference room, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. She turned to face Mr. King, a smug smile playing on her lips.

“I appreciate you taking the time to discuss this matter, Mr. King. I’ve been quite concerned about Jasmine’s performance and attitude in my class.”

Mr. King nodded, his expression neutral. “I see. Please tell me more about your concerns.”

Miss Roberts launched into her complaints, her voice growing more animated with each passing moment. “Well, for starters, she consistently challenges the curriculum. She insists on injecting her personal views into every discussion, derailing the lessons I’ve carefully prepared.”

As she spoke, Mr. King’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. He remained silent, allowing Miss Roberts to continue her tirade.

“And her attitude,” Miss Roberts exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “She’s constantly disrupting the class with her unique perspectives. Just today, she gave a presentation that completely missed the point of To Kill a Mockingbird, focusing solely on racial themes and ignoring the broader literary merits.”

Mr. King raised an eyebrow. “And you believe this focus on racial themes is inappropriate for discussing a novel that centers around a racially charged trial?”

Miss Roberts faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the question. “Well, I—I believe we should focus on the universal themes, not get bogged down in specific issues.”

“I see,” Mr. King said, his tone measured. “And how exactly has Jasmine been disruptive? Can you give me specific examples?”

Miss Roberts straightened, regaining her confidence. “Of course. She constantly raises her hand to challenge points I make in class, she argues with other students during discussions, and her body language—the way she sits there, all defiant. It’s clear she has no respect for authority.”

As Miss Roberts spoke, Mr. King’s expression shifted subtly. A hint of steel entered his eyes, though his voice remained calm.

“Miss Roberts, I’d like to

ask you something. Have you considered that what you perceive as defiance might actually be a student engaged in critical thinking?”

Miss Roberts blinked, taken aback by the question. “I—well, I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way, but Mr. King, you have to understand, this girl is simply not a good fit for our school. Her previous education must have been lacking. Perhaps a different environment would be more suitable for her.”

Mr. King’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “I see. And what makes you think Jasmine’s previous education was lacking?”

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Miss Roberts said, her voice dripping with condescension. “The way she speaks, her focus on certain issues. It’s clear she hasn’t been exposed to the level of rigor we expect here.”

Mr. King took a deep breath, his calm demeanor masking the storm brewing beneath the surface.

“Miss Roberts, I think it’s time I clarified something for you. Jasmine’s previous education was excellent. In fact, I can personally vouch for it.”

Miss Roberts frowned, confusion evident on her face. “I don’t understand. How could you possibly know that?”

Mr. King’s eyes locked onto Miss Roberts, his gaze unwavering. “I know because I’m Jasmine’s father.”

The color drained from Miss Roberts’s face as the implications of Mr. King’s words sank in. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out. The smug confidence that had carried her through the conversation evaporated in an instant.

“You… you’re—” Miss Roberts stammered, her eyes wide with shock and growing horror.

Mr. King nodded, his expression grave. “Yes, Miss Roberts. Jasmine King is my daughter, and I’ve been listening very carefully to everything you said about her.”

Miss Roberts stumbled backward, her hand gripping the edge of a nearby desk for support. The realization of what she had done—of the prejudices she had revealed to the school’s principal, and more importantly, to a father—crashed over her like a tidal wave.

“Mr. King, I—I had no idea,” she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Clearly,” Mr. King replied, his tone carrying a weight that made Miss Roberts flinch. “But ignorance is no excuse for the behavior you’ve displayed. Not only have you demonstrated a clear bias against my daughter, but your comments suggest a pattern of discrimination that goes beyond a single student.”

Miss Roberts’s mind raced, desperately searching for a way to salvage the situation. “Mr. King, please, I can explain. I never meant to—”

Mr. King held up a hand, silencing her. “I think you’ve explained quite enough, Miss Roberts. We’ll be having a much longer conversation about this, but for now, I suggest you return to your classroom. We wouldn’t want to keep the students waiting, would we?”

As Miss Roberts numbly nodded and turned to leave, Mr. King added, “Oh, and Miss Roberts, I’ll be sitting in on your class for the remainder of the day. I’m very interested in observing your teaching methods firsthand.”

Mr. King’s measured tone belied the storm brewing beneath as he stepped back into the classroom, followed by a visibly shaken Miss Roberts. The atmosphere shifted palpably; students straightened in their seats, sensing the tension crackling between the two adults.

“Class,” Mr. King addressed the room, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of steel, “I believe we need to have an important discussion about respect, diversity, and the true purpose of education.”

Miss Roberts stood rigidly by her desk, her earlier confidence evaporated. She glanced nervously at Mr. King, then at Jasmine, her mind racing to process the revelation she had just experienced.

Mr. King continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. “It has come to my attention that there have been some concerning incidents in this class—incidents that go against everything our school stands for.”

A collective intake of breath rippled through the students. Some cast furtive glances at Jasmine, pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

“Miss Roberts,” Mr. King addressed the teacher directly, “would you care to explain to the class why you felt it necessary to consistently undermine and belittle one of your students?”

The teacher’s mouth opened and closed, words failing her.

“Mr. King, I—I never meant to—”

“Never meant to what, Miss Roberts?” Mr. King’s voice rose slightly, his carefully maintained composure beginning to crack. “Never meant to make racist assumptions about a student’s background? Never meant to dismiss valid interpretations of literature because they didn’t align with your narrow worldview?”

The students watched in stunned silence as their usually mild-mannered principal transformed before their eyes. His words, precise and cutting, laid bare the injustices that had been simmering beneath the surface of their classroom for weeks.

“Let me be clear,” Mr. King continued, his eyes locked on Miss Roberts. “Your behavior towards Jasmine, and I suspect towards other students of color, is not only unprofessional but deeply harmful. You’ve created an environment where students feel unsafe expressing their thoughts and experiences.”

Miss Roberts attempted to interject, her voice trembling. “Mr. King, please, if I could just explain—”

“Explain what exactly?” Mr. King cut her off, his patience wearing thin. “Explain how you mocked Jasmine’s analysis of To Kill a Mockingbird because it focused on racial themes? Explain how you’ve consistently ignored her raised hand in class discussions? Or perhaps you’d like to explain your comment about her previous education being lacking simply because she doesn’t conform to your preconceived notions?”

The color drained from Miss Roberts’s face as Mr. King recounted her actions. She glanced around the room, seeking any sign of support, but found only shocked and disappointed faces staring back at her.

Mr. King turned to address the class once more. “Students, I want you to understand something. Education is not about silencing voices or dismissing perspectives that challenge our own. It’s about expanding our understanding, engaging in respectful dialogue, and learning from diverse experiences.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. “What you’ve witnessed in this classroom is not education—it’s discrimination, plain and simple. And it stops today.”

The tension in the room was palpable. Some students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, while others nodded in agreement with Mr. King’s words. Jasmine sat quietly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of relief and vindication.

Mr. King’s gaze returned to Miss Roberts, who seemed to shrink under his scrutiny. “Miss Roberts, your actions have demonstrated a clear pattern of discrimination that goes beyond a single student. This behavior is unacceptable and will be addressed through the proper channels. For now, I’ll be taking over your class for the remainder of the day.”

As Miss Roberts gathered her things, her movements jerky and uncoordinated, the reality of the situation seemed to finally hit her. She cast one last desperate look around the classroom before hurrying out the door.

The silence that followed her exit was deafening. Mr. King took a deep breath, visibly calming himself before addressing the class once more.

“I apologize that you’ve had to witness this, but I believe it’s important for you to understand that prejudice and discrimination have no place in our school or in our society.”

He moved to the front of the classroom, his posture relaxing slightly. Some students looked shell-shocked, others relieved. A few cast apologetic glances towards Jasmine, the weight of their silent complicity hanging heavy in the air.

Mr. King cleared his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “I know this has been an intense and emotional experience for all of you. We’ll be bringing in a counselor to help process what’s happened here. For now, class is dismissed early. Please use this time to reflect on what you’ve witnessed and how we can all work together to create a more inclusive environment.”

As the students filed out, many paused to offer words of support to Jasmine. Sarah, who had always sat quietly in the front row, approached hesitantly.

“I’m sorry I never spoke up,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I knew what was happening wasn’t right, but I was scared. It won’t happen again.”

Jasmine nodded, a small smile of understanding on her face. “Thank you, Sarah. Speaking up is hard, but it’s how we make things better.”

Outside the classroom, word spread quickly. Students gathered in small groups, discussing what they’d heard in hushed tones. As Jasmine emerged, flanked by her father, a hush fell over the hallway. Then slowly, a ripple of applause began. It started with just a few students, then grew until it echoed through the corridor. Jasmine walked tall, her head held high, the fear and isolation she’d felt for weeks melting away, replaced by a sense of empowerment. Her classmates weren’t just seeing her now; they were truly recognizing her strength and resilience.

Meanwhile, in the administrative office, Miss Roberts faced the consequences of her actions. The school board was convened for an emergency meeting, and within hours, a decision was reached. As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Miss Roberts was escorted from the building by security, a cardboard box of personal items clutched to her chest. Students watched from windows and doorways as their former teacher walked to her car, her career in education effectively over. There was no satisfaction in the scene, only a somber recognition that actions have consequences.

The next morning, as Jasmine approached the school, she noticed a change in the atmosphere. Students who had previously avoided her now offered friendly smiles and waves in the hallways. She overheard snippets of conversations about diversity workshops and plans for a cultural awareness club. As she entered her English classroom, now temporarily led by a substitute teacher, Jasmine was greeted by a sea of supportive faces. The tension that had permeated the room for weeks was gone, replaced by an air

of openness and mutual respect.

During lunch, Jasmine found herself surrounded by classmates eager to hear her thoughts on how to make the school more inclusive. Ideas flowed freely—from diversifying the curriculum to establishing mentorship programs for minority students. For the first time, Jasmine felt truly heard and valued.

After school, as Jasmine walked out with her father, they passed by Miss Roberts’s now-empty parking spot. Mr. King squeezed his daughter’s shoulder gently.

“You know, Jasmine, what happened here isn’t just about one teacher or one classroom. It’s a reminder that change is possible, but it takes courage to speak up and stand firm in the face of injustice.”

Jasmine nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I just hope it makes a difference beyond today. There are so many others who face discrimination every day, in and out of school.”

The events at Westfield High exposed how prejudice can lurk even in educational settings. Miss Roberts’s treatment of Jasmine revealed deep-seated biases that had gone unchecked for years. But Jasmine’s courage in speaking up sparked a transformation. The school community rallied around, creating a more inclusive environment. New initiatives, diversity training, and open dialogues challenged long-held assumptions. Students and teachers alike were forced to confront their own biases and blind spots.

Jasmine’s journey from victim to leader showed the power of resilience in the face of injustice. Her willingness to turn pain into positive change inspired others to examine their own beliefs and actions.

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Abusive Nursery Teacher Makes Girl Cry Every Day, Until Her Friend Calls 911 and Everything Changes –

Published

1 day ago

November 19, 2024

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