Afansi is going to Like First Grade!

                        “Afansi, get up,” Mom crooned, rocking her on the bed. “It’s six thirty. You have only an hour to get to school.”

            Afansi wrinkled her nose and dragged her cover cloth up her chin.

            “You’ve always been excited about school,” Mom said. “What’s the matter today?”

            “I don’t like the first grade,” Afansi said, tossed off the cloth and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

            Mom sat beside her. “Why don’t you like it, dear?” she asked.

            “There is no playing there,” Afansi said.

            “Oh, you would see,” Mom said. “There would be enough fun for a six-year-old girl.”

            “But not as much as in the nursery school,” Afansi complained.

            “Of course, not, my dear,” Mom agreed. “But enough to make you want to rush there each morning.”

            Afansi plodded to the bathroom wondering why Mom didn’t understand. In the nursery, she went to school at eight and closed at eleven. But the first to sixth graders went earlier and left at noon.

Besides, they spent most of their day in the classrooms whilst the nursery kids had fun outside. The thought of not squatting in the sandbox and digging her feet through the soft sand displeased her.

Imagine kids rolling down the slide, hanging onto the swing, giggling in the seesaw, throwing the big colourful balls whilst she sat glum in the next room learning difficult words! Above all imagine leaving Ms. Kafui’s bright classroom where she told them exciting stories and taught them nice songs!

            “Mom, can’t I remain in Ms. Kafui’s class?” Afansi asked as they walked up to the school gate.

            “You are old enough to be in the first grade,” Mom said firmly.

            Afansi contorted her face and twisted herself.

            Mom tousled her curly hair. “Better make the best of it, dear,” Mom said as she kissed her good-bye. “I’m sure you would love the first grade before you know it.”

            The drums summoned the children to assembly. The pupils lined up in front of their classes. After singing the national anthem, they marched into their classrooms.

            The teacher, a young smiling lady, lined up words in colored chalks on the blackboard. Running a long ruler under each word, she pronounced them with a rhythm Afansi never imagined words possessed.  

The teacher asked them to repeat after her. Suddenly the classroom burst into sound. Ms. Mends encouraged them to beat their desk tops lightly and swing their heads to the rhythm. Afansi found herself rocking.

            Soon it was noon.

            “More! More! More!” the children chorused.

“This afternoon,” Ms. Mends said.

Afansi gave Mom a piece of candy. “Guess why,” she said.

            Mom thought a while. “Because I like candies,” she said.

            “Yes,” Afansi said. “But I want to hear something else.”

            Mom thought again. “The teacher distributed it to the class.”

            “Yes,” Afansi said. “But that’s not what I’m looking for.”

            “Then, tell me, dear.”

            “I’m going to like first grade!”

            Mom gave Afansi a big hug. “What did I tell you?”