Footprints and Milestones

By Teresa Chukuma

Footprints & Milestones is the story of a teacher who through Hardwork, Discipline and Humility found herself on the world stage. Teresa Chukuma spent a total of forty years in the service of Nigeria (1952 - 1992). Her entire career saw her move from one sector of Education to another until her retirement in September 1992. Teresa Chukuma at her core is a teacher but is also an administrator and international civil servant.

Mrs. Chukuma would fondly say "gone are the days when men thought that a woman could not occupy certain positions of authority because she would periodically be absent from her maternity leave". This book is about such a woman who broke barriers often times as the first woman in her various roles. She shattered glass ceilings as she rose through the ranks in her career.

This book is the story of Mrs. Teresa E. Chukuma's exemplary life which teaches that it is possible, even today, to live a successful and content life as a loving home-maker, dedicated, committed and forgiving spouse; devout, trusting and devoted Christian mother; excellent, unblemished career public servant, administrator par excellence, peaceful mediator and conciliator in the workplace and society.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9781734752328

Book preview

Dedication

To God Almighty, who gave me the strength to sit for months—nay, years—to put the story of my life and work on paper, I say thank You. For enabling me to recall events that took place sixty to seventy years ago, I am evermore grateful.

To my father, Mr. Paul Odoemena Nwagwu, who loved me so much and believed in me, I express my heartfelt gratitude. To have believed in the education of the girl child in his days, when parents gave away their daughters in early marriage, is no mean feat. Papa, may God bless your soul.

To my mother, Mrs. Bridget Ugboaku Nwagwu nee Onyegbule, who missed the opportunity of western education, but vowed to support me and my siblings by financing our expenses to purchase textbooks, uniforms and other school supplies, I say thank you.

To the thousands of boys and girls who have enriched my life by being my faithful disciples throughout my forty years sojourn in education, I salute you. Many of you have climbed such heights that I never dreamt of, but believe me when I say I am very proud of each of you for your achievements in varied fields of endeavour in Nigeria and the diaspora. I dedicate this memoir to you all.

And finally, I dedicate this book to my son, Bruce, who waited anxiously for the publication of the book only to suddenly pass away on November 22, 2014. Bubu, all I can assure you is that your children, grandchildren and fans of your popular radio programme, Sharing Life Issues with CHAZ B, will have the opportunity to read on your behalf this story of my life and work. I also thank you for having promised to promote this memoir, which has taken me so long to put together. May God grant you mercy and accept your soul into Paradise. Rest in perfect peace my loving and ever restless son.

Acknowledgement

My sincere gratitude goes first and foremost to my young secretary and assistant, Miss Valerie Ochiotu, who diligently helped me to type all the manuscripts as many times as was necessary to get the final copy ready for editing.

To my sister, Mrs. Beatrice Erivo, who helped me sort out old photographs.

To Miss Yvonne Onah who made some useful comments at the onset of this book, which helped me to widen the scope of my coverage.

To all my children who supported me in every way, giving me the courage to go on writing to the end, I say thank you.

To my meticulous co-editor, Mrs. Theresa Ogbuibe, whose advice always paid off, my sincere thanks.

To the chief editor and publisher of this memoir, Sir Victor Anoliefo, I say thank you for your patience, advice and encouragement.

To Timi Yeseibo, my heart of gratitude to you for taking up the burden of the last-minute editing. If we have averted the proverbial printer’s devil, it’s all thanks to you.

To my former student, Ms. Yejide Okunribido, who volunteered to read through the whole book dotting all i’s and crossing all t’s, I thank you immensely.

For my son Chukuka, words elude me to express my love and gratitudefor, not just your role in the life of this book, but in my life entirely. You have consistently stood in the gap for your siblings; you straddled the project with such a strong commitment to ensure that I never had to worry. Your blessings are assured by God’s promise in the Fourth Commandment.

May Almighty God bless you all for helping to make my dream of telling my story a reality.

Foreword

The Story of the Life and Work of Chief (Mrs.)

Teresa Ebuzaju Chukuma, JP. mni

Is the story of a successful trajectory in the life of a woman who took life like a bull by horns, faced it squarely, subdued and lived it fully.

If we did not have the opportunity of knowing Chief (Mrs.) Chukuma in person, her autobiography would have sounded like fiction.

How could one young Mbaise girl with no spectacular parentage, no arriviste conjugal connections, no Nigerian long legs, climb through the rungs of the ladder of hard studies and hierarchical career ascendancy, to bestride the wide world of the Nigerian educational administration like a colossus? The peculiarity of her colossal rise, which makes her story unique, is that instead of rising and dwarfing her entourage, she endeavoured to lift them to her level. In the process, she built a world of motivated, inspired, contented and grateful subordinates, contemporaries, colleagues and superiors who not only felt comfortable with her but also gave her career comfort and assurance.

Consequently, after almost four decades of meritorious service to her native family, conjugal family, community, nation and humanity,

Teresa, like the Mother Teresa of Calcutta, became the Mother-General of Nigerian education.

She trotted the globe like her village, interacted with the high and the mighty but never lost the common touch, as a dedicated mother, devout Christian and sports enthusiast.

Mama Teresa has demonstrated, in this unputdownable story of her life that it is possible, even today, to live a successful and contented life as a loving home-maker and hen-mother; dedicated, committed and forgiving spouse; devout, trusting and devoted Christian mother; and an excellent, unblemished career public servant, administrator par excellence, peaceful mediator and conciliator in the workplace and society.

Chief Mrs. Teresa Ebuzaju Chukuma is that scarce specie we have been clamouring for: a role model of an integral woman.

In a Nigerian society, which seems to be suffering from Acute Ethics Deficiency Syndrome (AEDS), we need more Teresas to cure the national and societal AEDS.

Please read and emulate her.

Dr. Paddy Kemdi Njoku

Chairman,

National Examinations Council (NECO).

Introduction

Not many would disagree or argue as to which profession in the world is the most important. Neither would anyone disagree that teaching is the father or oldest of all professions. A teacher is a guide, a counsellor, a motivator, a model, a confidant and a friend to his pupils. It is the teacher who produces men and women of other professions—engineers, lawyers, doctors and so on.

One man stands out in history as the greatest admirer of teachers. Indeed, he so trusted and believed in his son’s teacher that he wrote him this classical letter. In the letter, Abraham Lincoln, the sixteenth President of the United States of America, wrote:

"He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men

are not true.

But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for

every selfish Politician, there is a dedicated leader...

Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend. It will take time,

I know; but teach him if you can, that a dollar earned is of far

more value than five found...

Teach him to learn to lose...and also to enjoy winning.

Steer him away from envy, if you can, teach him the secret of quiet

laughter.

Let him learn early that the bullies are the

easiest to lick...

Teach him, if you can the wonder of books...But also give him

quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in

the sun, and the flowers

on a green hillside.

In the school teach him that it is far honourable to

fail than to cheat...

Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him they

are wrong...

Teach him to be gentle with gentle people, and tough

with the tough.

Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone is

getting on the bandwagon...

Teach him to listen to all men...but teach him also to filter all he hears on

a screen of truth, and take only the good that comes through.

Teach him if you can how to laugh when he is sad...

Teach him there is no shame in tears

Teach him to scoff at cynics and to beware of

too much sweetness...

Teach him to sell his brawn and brain to the highest bidders but never to

put a price-tag on his heart and soul.

Teach him to close his ears to a howling mob and to stand and fight if he

thinks he’s right.

Treat him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire

makes fine steel.

Let him have the courage to be impatient...let him have the patience to be

brave.

Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself, because then he will

have sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order but see what you can do...

He is such a fine fellow, my son!"

Abraham Lincoln

A close look at this letter shows the societal expectations of the power of a teacher, and his place in the lives of the children under his care. So, to teachers who meet even half of these expectations, I say, bravo!

A teacher’s job is tedious but the reward is great. And by this I do not mean the proverbial reward of a teacher in heaven. A teacher’s reward is and can be here on earth. When a teacher does his/her work well and sits back to watch the children he has moulded graduate into the society as well groomed and disciplined members, his joy knows no bounds. Seeing these young people grow into mature adults and successful in their chosen careers, leaves a deep sense of satisfaction in the teacher’s mind. In return, the teacher reaps reward often not in monetary terms but in acknowledgement in social gatherings and on the streets by his past pupils. It is a pity that today, unlike in years gone by, the society at large has lost respect for that individual who was not only a teacher but also an advocate, a village or town counsellor, a confidant and a friend to all and sundry.

A well-known adage states that some men are born great, some attain greatness while others have greatness thrust upon them. In the same way, some people are born teachers, some take to teaching because according to them, they could find nothing better to do whilst others get into it by trial and error.

As for me, my journey as a teacher started as an accident. A Nigerian newspaper report I read when visiting the Nigeria High Commission House at Number 9, Northumberland Avenue, London, as far back as the summer of 1957 pushed me into teaching. The article in brief stated that Queen’s School, Enugu, which by then was about three years old, could be closed down due to the sudden resignation of its expatriate principal and four other European teachers in sympathy with her. The school at that time had only nine or ten teachers on its roll. This article made me change my mind from being a social worker to going in for a teacher-training programme after my graduation from the University of St. Andrews, Scotland, in June 1958. In September 1958, I enrolled in the University of London for a post-graduate certificate in education. During the one-year training programme, I grew to love teaching and have never looked back since.

I spent a total of forty years in the service of Nigeria (1952-1992). Thirty-three of those years were spent in education (1959-1992); six on study leave in the United Kingdom (1953-1959); and one year as a clerk in the Enugu Secretariat of the old Eastern Region of Nigeria (1952-1953).

My entire career saw me move from one sector of education to another until my retirement from service in September 1992. My involvement in education, however, continued even after retirement—answering duty calls and participating in education conferences and workshops as a resource person.

Chapter 1

The Early Years

The first of four children, my parents, Paul Odoemena Nwagwu and Bridget Ugboaku Onyegbule, had me in our village (Umuogo) Umumbiri in Oparanadim 1, which is situated in Ahiazu-Mbaise Local Government Area of Imo State, south-eastern Nigeria. At the time of my birth on September 15, 1932, my father was a primary school teacher.

Soon after this, my father decided to leave teaching and join the civil service of the government of the then Eastern Nigeria where, with his mathematics background, he trained as a surveyor in the Department of Lands and Surveys in Enugu, the capital of the then Eastern Region of Nigeria.

This training opened a vista of opportunities for him to travel to different parts of the old Eastern Region with a team that was selected to demarcate aerodromes in cities like Port-Harcourt, Enugu and Calabar. Being the only child of my parents at that time, my father would not risk leaving me behind whenever he moved from town to town. So wherever he went, my mother and I had to follow. It was in Calabar he decided that he had to allow me settle down in school. He therefore left my mother and I behind whilst he moved on to Tiko in Southern Cameroons, which then was part of the Eastern Region of Nigeria.

In Calabar, my mother felt very much at home. This was because she loved farming and found the land in Calabar to be very fertile as it was composed mainly of loamy soil. This section of the country is part of the Niger Delta where the Cross River empties into the Atlantic Ocean. Therefore, the silt deposited by the River greatly enriches the soil.

While my father was busy travelling to different parts of Nigeria, my mother kept herself busy with farming activities, specialising in root crops, vegetables and poultry. Apart from feeding the family very well, Mama made a lot of money, which she used to support Papa in training my siblings and me in school.

During the Nigeria Biafra War (1967-70), Mama continued her farming in our village. It was thanks to her that many extended family members were kept alive during the thirty-month Civil War. She also cared for hundreds of refugees who migrated into our village from other parts of the old Eastern Region. By the end of the war, Mama was considered a millionaire because she grew surplus foodstuff that were sent out for sale in several markets in our local government areas. On my visit to the village in April 1970, I saw cartons of Biafran currency notes stashed in our house. The Federal Government order that only twenty Naira be exchanged for whatever amount of money people brought to the banks did not go down well with her. So she did not bother but turned all the money into toilet paper!

For a child who loved school, it was ironic that I did not settle down in any school till I was almost seven years old. This was not because my right hand could not touch my left ear, which was the method adopted by the colonial masters to guess the age of a child to be registered in school, since most children then had no birth certificates. My late enrolment in a formal school was because of the itinerant nature of my father’s job that made me move frequently from town to town. So from 1939 to 1946, I spent two years in elementary school and six years in primary school at the Holy Child Convent School, Calabar.

These years coincided with the period of the Second World War, which affected many parts of the globe in different ways. In Nigeria, even though we were not directly involved, the war left its mark on our country. Being a colony of Britain at the time, the colonial masters forcefully drafted into the army many young men, including boys in classes five and six of many secondary schools in the country. They were mostly sent to Sierra Leone for training before being shipped to Burma and India. The bulk of the Nigerian contingent apparently arrived in Burma towards the end of the war in 1945, so they were lucky not to have been sent to the war front.

My uncle, Lazarus Uzoma Nwagwu, was one of the draftees who returned from Burma with lots of stories. In addition, he brought many gifts home. I remember receiving from him a beautiful blanket and sweater, which I proudly used in the boarding house.

At home in Nigeria, people were told to hide under trees if they heard the sound of aeroplanes. Families were instructed by radio to keep lamps dim every night so as not to attract any passing planes. At the Convent School, we underwent daily drills in preparation for any attack by the Nazis on Nigeria. At noon, the bell would toll and immediately every class would line up to be led by the class teacher, in silence, to the school garden, which was shaded by huge bamboo trees. On getting there, everyone would lie flat on the ground in absolute silence for fifteen minutes. After that, the bell would toll again for everyone to get up and walk silently back to class in a neat file.

The drill was carried out every month during 1942, 1943 and 1944 when it was feared that Hitler’s men were about to penetrate most countries of the world. In fact, sometime in 1944, schools in Calabar were closed down for several weeks. Women were instructed to take their children to faraway villages for safety. This was when Nigerians proved that they could be their brothers’ keepers. I remember arriving in one village on the outskirts of Calabar with my mother and my siblings, Augustine, Beatrice and Mary, where we did not know anyone. But as soon as we arrived, carrying some foodstuff, some pots and pans, mats to sleep on etc., the adoptive family made space for us and welcomed us with a drink of water.

While women and children moved into the suburbs, the men remained in the city and were trained in different aspects of self-defense. I clearly remember my father belonging to a group known as the Special Constabulary where, even after we returned to the city, they continued to go for physical exercises and take turns to guard some designated places in Calabar.

Luckily, with the entry of the United States of America into the war to support Britain and France, Adolf Hitler was defeated. Hitler was said to have committed suicide where he was hiding in the Austrian mountains near the town of Berchtesgaden. The six-year-old war ended on November 11, 1945. Coincidentally, I went on a geography excursion to Austria in 1957 with the United Kingdom Students Union, and we explored the whole region, including the town of Berchtesgaden. It is a small town deep in the Austrian Alps.

My primary school days were enjoyable and memorable