Mr Nuckchady was my teacher in Standard VI at Rose Hill Government School, Stanley (known as Ecole Gnany) in 1958. He was fatherly to us. In the morning, we would wait for him to climb the stairs and someone would say ?Bolom is coming?. All the students would hush and rise with a musical ?Bonjour Monsieur?.

We came early to play marbles but, once a week, all children joined forces to apply Rexo floor polish and make the room shine after brushing the floor using the traditional ?brosse coco?. We were proud to keep our classroom clean. However, someone wrote in Advance newspaper that children were exploited. So the weekly cleaning stopped. We had lost an opportunity to express ourselves through our efforts to keep our environment clean.

Most children were not good in Arithmetic. One day, Mr Nuckchady carried out his warning by bringing his young son (who was half our age) to our classroom and asking him arithmetic questions, which most students could not answer. He placed him in front of the whole classroom, and the boy answered all the questions his father asked. We were ashamed and tried to catch up on Arithmetic. The little man should be a genius by now, but I have not heard about him afterwards.

While being attentive to the class, some of us used to take small bites at our bread, so that it would be finished before the recess and we would have all the time to play football. Although we hid behind our desks, Mr Nuckchady noticed us from time to time. He did not scold me but just said he had seen me eating my bread. So the message was received and I did not eat in class again.

Between the lessons, Mr Nuckchady held discussions on Père Laval, Rémy Ollier, Manilall Doctor, De Plevitz and how those supportive of the downtrodden were pelted with stones and insulted. I listened avidly to his ?lectures? on freedom fighting. He highlighted the message of Napoleon Bonaparte to his generals: ?The word ?impossible? exists only in the dictionary of fools.? I have always tried to apply it in my daily activities. One day, he remarked to my astonishment that the ?greatest man of Stanley was Naidoo?s father?, for having come up from a rural background to HSC level. My little head did not comprehend anything.

Mr Nuckchady was very caring to his students. He counted on me to become the first ?boursier? of the school. In the examinations held in Notre Dame des Victoires School, he came to me after every paper and enquired how I had fared. Unfortunately for the English paper, I followed the last minute tip of my private tuition teacher, Mrs Tellevave, who advised us to revise our essay 10 times before putting it neat. I followed her instructions ?à la lettre? in my childhood innocence, and by the time I was on the fourth reading, the bell rang. I was flabbergasted that it could have flown so fast. I kept the rough essay with me. Mr Nuckchady came and enquired about my performance. I showed him my ?brouillon?. He pleaded with the invigilator to accept my essay, but she refused to take it. So when the results were announced on Xmas eve on the radio, my name was absent and I was mortified. I could not celebrate Christmas and New Year. My parents were very supportive, however. Mr Nuckchady came to my house once or twice to talk to me, but I was so ashamed of having let him down that I did not come out and we never met again. Fortunately, my overall marks were good and I was admitted to Royal College Port Louis with other ?boursiers?. Years later, after my graduation overseas, I felt I had to see my teacher again. But I learnt from his niece that Mr Nuckchady was no longer in full possession of his mental faculties and he was no longer the person I had known. Rightly or wrongly, I did not visit him. I learnt of his passing away 10 years ago and went to pay my respects. He looked as impressive as he had been in the classroom. With some emotion in my voice, I told friends gathered for the sad occasion: ?He was my best teacher.?

<B>Dr Gopalakrishna NAIDOO</B> Former Chief Agricultural Officer, Ministry of Agro-industry