When President Yoweri Museveni announced a lockdown on March 18, 2020 to curb the first wave of Covid-19, Stephen Wasega’s boss at Gangu Junior School in Kampala paid his teachers Shs 100,000 each and advised them to return to their respective villages.
They also had to vacate the schoolhouses some of them, like Wasega, occupied.
“Go to the village and do what!? Instead, two of my colleagues and I pooled that money and rented two rooms and moved in with our wives and children, as we thought of what to do next,” the 25-year-old, whom we found in Gangu looking well groomed and every inch a teacher (complete with pen in shirt pocket), said.
Wasega’s plan B came in the form of manual labour.
“Now I dig pit latrines. I had dug pit latrines before in my village in Butaleja, but toilets in the village are usually five to 10ft deep. Here, someone tells you, ‘I want 100ft’; eh! But when you have a need, you improvise,” Wasega, who taught math and English to P2, P3 and nursery pupils until Covid-19 happened, said.
When The Observer was trying to trace him, people referred to him as ‘master’, and not by his name. In addition to pit latrines, Wasega has boreholes and water pumps on his catalogue of jobs he does.
Although his newfound vocation does not have a job for him every day or even every week, it has been good to him; so much so that he does not plan to go back to teaching when schools reopen.
Uganda is currently the only country in the East African Community, where schools remain closed due to Covid-19. The president announced that schools will only reopen in January 2022, sending teachers and parents into fresh panic.
While public school teachers still receive a salary, private school teachers have been reduced to beggars in some cases, in a country where stimulus packages bizarrely went to a few renowned entrepreneurs.
During the first lockdown, President Museveni released Shs 20bn for private teachers’ savings and credit schemes, but to date the intended beneficiaries have not received a coin. It does not help matters that many private school teachers like Wasega teach without formal employment contracts.
No wonder Wasega has lost his love for teaching.
“You know how private schools can be; they promise you Shs 300,000 but give you Shs 100,000 when the month ends! With latrines, I charge Shs 10,000 per foot, then hire one or two people to assist me. At the end of the job, I still have reasonable savings,” he said.
The borehole and water pump jobs are harder to come by, but are more lucrative and can fetch up to Shs 6m, because it is a dangerous job; he has to dig until he reaches the water table. Some may be tempted to feel sorry for Wasega; well, meeting him would change that.
“Covid-19 has been a blessing in disguise, because I have discovered an alternative way of earning a living. Initially I wanted to go to the United Arab Emirates, but failed,” he said. “I can no longer stand teaching, unless I go for further studies and get to teach secondary school students and university.”
Married to Dorah Nakigudde with whom he has two children under three years, Wasega also looks after his father, Enock Wasega in Butaleja and pays school fees for three of his 14 siblings. His mother passed away. Yet, despite having no immediate plans of returning to teaching, Wasega takes the responsibility and honour attached to his title ‘master’ very seriously.
“I am very careful how I carry myself, because many of my pupils are in this village. Even their parents call me, ‘master, master!’”
“I feel no shame doing what I do. Sometimes my pupils come to me and say they are hungry, or have no food at home. I ask them to help me with light jobs at my sites and afterwards pay them Shs 20,000,” he said.
He has since moved out of the shared quarters and now rents a single room at Shs 100,000, knowing he can finally pay.
“When there are no pit latrines or boreholes to dig, I will do any menial job – including mopping houses – as long as I put food on the table. I don’t look down on any job,” Wasega, who came to Kampala in 2016 after completing S6 at Butaleja SS, said.
THE PROUD HAWKER
Wasega is not the only teacher thinking outside the box, lest he starves. Immaculate Nakyanzi, 32, has been a teacher since 2011, but currently is a hawker, selling craft shoes. A Kampala International University graduate of Development Studies, Nakyanzi first worked with World Vision up to 2010, when her love for teaching drew her into the classroom.
“I just loved teaching. I even went for a certificate course in Education at Kyadondo Technical Institute,” the married mother-of-five said.
Nakyanzi, who teaches P1 to P3 pupils at St Francis Xavier Gangu, pays tribute to her former boss, Francis Bbosa, who kept paying his teachers even six months into the first lockdown, until things got worse with the on-going lockdown on schools.
“I had linked up with a parent who did baking and catering and learnt how to make samosas and fried cassava. Using the money our boss paid me, I bought supplies and started making my own samosas and muwogo. But when our boss could no longer support us, that business collapsed,” Nakyanzi said.