You know how nerve wrecking it is going though an interview process. All that preparation, making sure you are wearing the right clothes, researching the organization before hand, wiping sweaty hands and going to the toilet a hundred times before the actual interview… I know that for some people it’s just another ‘thing’ to do today and no big deal, but for most people it is an ordeal that they consider of great importance. Kiteng shares an interview experience at her new school.An Interview
Ddamba had persuaded me to join the Drama club at school and now here I was sitting in the drama room waiting for Mr. Mvulandimbula to discuss my membership. I fidgeted on the chair looking at the clock on the wall. It was only ten past three and the bus didn’t come until four, I thought. Maybe I should go to the library and do my homework. I don’t have to join the drama club today. I could always come back tomorrow or next week or even next term.
“Kiteng, thank you for keeping time,” Mr Mvulandimbula’s soft baritone interrupted my thoughts. “I do apologise for being late myself.”
“I haven’t waited long sir.”
“Very good, so where did you say you come from, Kiteng?”
“Mene, in Lokomotit District sir,” I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat, hoping that it would be over soon.
“You are very far away from home Kiteng, how long have you lived in the city?”
“It will be exactly one month tomorrow sir,” my heart fell and I stared at my shoes. Well there go my chances of joining the drama club, I thought. Who would want a village bum in the club? I knew I shouldn’t try to join any club so soon on joining the school. It was all Ddamba’s fault.
“I spent a week with a family at Sokotit Trading Centre a long time ago,” Mr Mvulandimbula said. “It is a very remote, but beautiful place. Is Mene near Sokotit?”
“Oh yes sir!” I said looking up at Mr Mvulandimbula. I would never have thought that a teacher at this school would know anything about my home let alone been so close to it. “We get the bus to the city from Sokotit, sir.”
“Why did your family move to the city, Kiteng? People from your home area tend to be very conservative and do not normally travel away.”
“Mother and I moved here because of her work, sir. She works for International Organisation that helps people, sir.”
“What about your father, brothers and sisters, did they remain in Mene?”
“My father died when I was a baby, sir,” I returned my gaze to the floor in front of me. I have never been comfortable talking about family especially to a stranger like Mr Mvulandimbula. “I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“I’m sorry to hear that Kiteng, but don’t you have any other relatives?”
“My grandma lives near our house in Mene and Uncle Tilakit, Mama’s brother lives with her, sir,” I said quietly, intently studying the pattern of the wooden tiles on the floor. I had not noticed how systematic they were, I thought. Someone had taken a lot of time laying them out.
“Kiteng, my dear, you don’t have to say ‘sir’ every time you answer a question, alright?”
“Yes sir, I mean yes.”
“Have you made any friends since you joined the school?”
“Yes sir, I mean yes,” I was glad that Mr Mvulandimbula had changed the subject. Now perhaps we can talk about joining the Drama Club. “There is Ddamba from my class. He says that I will be able to make more friends in the Drama Club.”
“Is that why you want to join the club, to make friends?”
“Yes sir,” I looked away from the floor tiles and back at Mr Mvulandimbula. “Ddamba is also a member of the club.”
“Have you ever acted in a play before, Kiteng?”
“Yes sir, I was an angel in a Christmas play at my Missionary School in Mene.”
“That is very good, Kiteng! Did you enjoy acting in the Christmas play?”
“Oh yes, sir. I wore a long white dress, white stockings and large white cardboard wings.”
“Do you still have the costume?”
“No sir, the Nuns keep all the costumes.”
“Are you Catholic, Kiteng?” Mr Mvulandimbula sat up straight and his eyes lit up. “I’m Catholic too. We have a very active youth club at the cathedral. I’m sure I could help you join them. You would be able to make a lot of friends there. Although some of them may not be from this school. Uhm, what were we talking about?”
“Sir, I am not Catholic,” I said quickly hoping that this would not dash my hopes of joining the drama club. “I just went to a Missionary School in Mene.”
“Oh I see,” Mr Mvulandimbula sat back nodding his head as if he had suddenly understood something. “Well that’s alright. Do you like your new school?”
“It’s very big, sir and there are so many children here.”
“Have you tried to talk to the other children, make friends?” Mr Mvulandimbula pushed back his chair and crossed his legs.
“No sir, I am quite happy to have Ddamba as a friend.”
“Uhm, did you have only one friend in your Missionary School in Mene?”
“No sir, I had very many friends, but we had all grown up together.”
“Kiteng, are you afraid that you are different from the other children?” Mr Mvulandimbula uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.
I let my eyes drop back to the floor and shifted uncomfortably on my seat. Mr Mvulandimbula was getting too close to the truth and I really didn’t want to talk about it.
“Yes sir, I am different,” I said quietly not looking up.
“Are you different from Ddamba?” Mr Mvulandimbula insisted.
“Yes Sir, but Ddamba accepts me as I am.”
“Do you think that Ddamba is different from the other children?”
“No sir, he is like the others, but he treats me like his friend,” I looked up at Mr Mvulandimbula, wondering were he was going with this.
“Have you given the other children a chance to treat you like a friend?”
I was silent wondering what to say. The truth was that I hadn’t made any effort to be friendly or find out anything about the children in my class.
“Not really, sir.”
“Why is that, Kiteng?”
“Sir, I was afraid that they would laugh at me because I come from a small village and my English is not perfect like theirs.”
There I had said it. I am just a village girl and I certainly do not fit in this city school.
“Kiteng, have any of the children been teasing you?” Mr Mvulandimbula leaned forward again and looked me straight in the eyes.
“No sir,” I looked away. I most certainly did not want to be a snitch as well as everything else.
Mr Mvulandimbula looked at me quietly for a moment before he continued.
“Would you like to get to know the other children in your class, Kiteng?”
“Yes sir.”
“The opening activity for the Drama Club is an exercise in which we interact with each other with the aim of breaking the barriers among the group and getting to know each other better. Will you be able to participate in such an activity?”
“Yes sir, I will try.”
Maybe it was good idea to join the Drama Club after all. I thought.
“Welcome to the Drama Club, Kiteng,” Mr Mvulandimbula stood up. “I shall see you next week and don’t worry about making friends, it will all work out eventually. Just keep an open mind and give the other children a chance.”
“Thank you, sir,” I stood up as well.
Mr Mvulandimbula left after handing me a pamphlet about the club. I walked out of the room relieved, excited and a little bit apprehensive about being in this club. At least I had a week before the first meeting. Hopefully I would be more settled in the school by then.
