Barefoot and Unbothered: A School Day’s End

The other day, the moment I heard the closing bell ring, I practically bolted. The school day was finally over, and I was ready to head home — my mind already shifting away from lesson plans and school duties. Thank God I wasn’t the teacher on duty that day. Sharp-sharp, I was halfway out the school gate when a small voice called from behind me.

“Aunty, wait for me!”

I stopped and turned to see Delight, one of my tiniest pupils. Delight is what you might call a “sharp brain with a sharper mouth.” She’s the kind of kid who never misses a beat, always quick with a clever retort and a mischievous smile. But that day, she was barefoot.

I squinted down at her feet. “Where’s your shoe?” I asked.

“In my bag,” she replied confidently, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Oya, put them on,” I said, gesturing for her to slip her feet into her shoes before we left.

Just then, the principal appeared nearby, and I had to pause to exchange greetings. By the time Delight was done putting on her shoes, I was done with the pleasantries.

“Oya, Aunty, let’s go,” Delight said, ready to move.

In my head, I thought, Who said I’m waiting for you? The class is over — you kids should leave me o. But I slowed my pace, matching my steps to her small ones. There was something about her insistence that made me pause. Maybe it was her seriousness about those shoes or just the way she was determined not to be left behind.

As we walked, I noticed Destiny, another of my pupils, not far ahead. Like Delight, Destiny was barefoot. The tarred road under the afternoon sun was already hot, but he refused to wear his shoes.

I don’t understand these kids sometimes. Why walk barefoot, especially on a hot road like this? I watched as his feet shifted nervously from side to side, trying to avoid the heat, but it didn’t seem to bother him much. His mind was elsewhere — clearly focused on getting home. Perhaps there was some special delicacy waiting for him, or maybe he was just glad to have survived another day of school.

I felt a pang of understanding for him. School isn’t always a walk in the park — even when it has its best moments. For many of these kids, it’s a routine they have to endure with grit and patience. Yet, somehow, they show up every day, barefoot or not.

Delight caught up to Destiny, and the two of them walked side by side, their bare feet making light taps against the warm pavement. I followed, their tiny footsteps reminding me how different their world is from mine. For them, school is a daily challenge — sometimes exhausting, sometimes joyful, but always part of the journey.

I couldn’t help but smile. Despite their rough edges and stubbornness, these kids have a resilience that’s both humbling and inspiring. Delight’s quick wit, Destiny’s quiet determination, their willingness to keep going — it reminds me why teaching is so important.

The sun was beginning to dip low, casting long shadows as we moved closer to the gate. The school was finally emptying out, but the stories of the day lingered in the air — stories of laughter, learning, struggle, and small victories.

As we approached the gate, Delight looked up at me with those bright eyes and said, “Aunty, tomorrow, I’ll make sure I don’t forget my shoes.”

I laughed softly. “Good girl.”

I glanced back at Destiny, still shoeless but steadfast. I wonder what his day was like — what he’s thinking about as he heads home. Whatever it is, I hope it’s something sweet enough to make up for the burning soles and the hard school routine.

School isn’t exactly a fun routine — not always. But these kids make it worth every moment. We go again next term.