–Jake Effoduh | Praxis & Gnosis Consulting
When I was about 6 years old, instead of resting after school hours, I would usually remain by the staircase leading to our apartment and I would image myself as a teacher and the staircase as my classroom.
In my head (and eyes), there was a blackboard, desks, everything. I would imagine the steps as pupils and I would speak with these imaginary children, teaching and reciting songs with them; talking and laughing with them. With a cane in my hand (freshly plucked from school on my way home), I would flog the steps when they erred or became unruly. I did this for several hours, and every day, till I was 13 or so.
Thinking back, my parents and siblings must have concluded that I had a mental problem of some sort. They never complained about it to me but they expressed concerns amongst themselves. Luckily, they never bothered me much about it. By letting me express myself in this weird practice, and for several hours every day, I remember always feeling so liberated. I remember being such a happy kid; the happiest in my block! None of the world’s problems ever affected me.
The staircase was my own classroom, not the type I attended at Army Children School. This one, I created. Whatever problems I faced in school got solved at the staircase. As the last child of 4, it was the only place where I had authority; the one place where everything that went on in my head came alive.