Friday, March 20, 2015

Thank You Combermere ALL-Age School - Nevis by Jefferson J. J. E. Wallace

20th March, 2015

By: Jefferson J. J. E. Wallace, Past Student of The Combermere All Age School - Nevis



 Thank You Combermere ALL-Age School - Nevis

Combermere – My Combermere – our Combermere
My school – our school.
My love – our love.
We will cherish you forever.
Memories of you so many – so mixed
Of students real good – some full of tricks.
You helped to shape our world.

Do let me begin.
I single out myself – forgive me for first stepping back in time.
Now bear with me as wid pain I begin.

Me happy excitement and me black, black slate and ting.
In me short, short pants and a shirt nylon.
Dat first day was pure misery for this little poor, poor son was only four years you see.
Me use to go to me God mudda pre-school in Castle Mission.
And me afternoon sleep was a natural occasion.

Fus day, I say. Fus day, I say.
They had no benches. Just little platforms in Junior A.
Me spread out as usual, tink me afternoon sleep OK.
Wup! Wup! Wup! Blows in me small skin,
A big stout strong man over me den.

Me scream like Simba – scream, scream, scream.
Something fly out me pants, smell real, real bad.
And de figure over me like he MAD, MAD, MAD.

He asked, “You have anybody else in school?”
I say, “Maelora Wallace – me sister. I drool.”
“Melora Wallace, come clean up you brother.”
De whole school now know how I smell all over.
Shame, shame, shame – me sister take me home.
Mamma Vex, vex, vex how dey treat she son.
Fus day I say. Fus day I say.

Dem licks I got from a head teacher name Shattum.
Thank God I didn’t fraid school and become a bum.

I came back to school. I was clean again.
And soon became one of Combermere’s Favorite sons.
I thank God for the rest of Combermere.

Yes, despite such strange welcome and that licking.
Nothing, no nothing, could stop me from learning.
So to better things, I remind you now.

Combermere was GOOD – GOOD to us all somehow.

We had to get there at ten to nine
And everything about you had to be spick, span and fine.
No grippy hair for the boys big or small,
And the girls hair combed nice, nice - one and all.

Everybody’s nails clean and cut.
Boys pants pulled right up and in it their shirts.
You’d better make sure you got your slate,
And you bring your bag and you books, don’t be late.
Don’t  you forget you homework until
Or you pay a strange debt like Jack and Jill.

We began each day with a religious song.
Then prayed to God to help us along.
Forget your testament or Bible, you’re drunk,
Something will follow even if you’re a hunk.

Combermere had teachers, I tell you who cared.
They taught their hearts out year after year.
Some of them went off to England and America
But Combermere was NEVER left to suffer.
That Shattum – Cecil Edwards – he’s gone.
I can remember Charles Richards and John Cole did come.

Life was exciting for boys and girls.
Combermere was our world – our world – our world.
You remember as we get older, we used to sing
About some boys named Ray, Mi and Ting.
And de girls we never met called Fay, La and La.
You better hear de tuning FORK – Ping or you bawl mudda.
Earlier Sports Days was Empire Day,
When we bigged up de Queen or de King Hurray.
Then Statehood Sports with great twoitty of islands
Was something we sang as Combermere children.

I can’t tell the jokes of Combermere.
The concerts, the hikes and the open day fairs.
But Combermere – Thank You – Thank You – Thank You!
For so many memories through the years.

You gave us farmers, fishers, porters – Thank you – Combermere.
For teachers, preachers and great sailors – Thank you – Combermere.
Don’t forget potters and shopkeepers, we are grateful – Combermere.
And for the doctors, nurses and therapists – Thanks again – Combermere.
For cricketers, netballers, footballers – all sportsmen – Yes – Yes – Combermere

For all we remember, for all we forget.
God Bless you Combermere.
We’ll cherish you. We love you!
Your story is ONLY  HALF  TOLD,
But Thank you Combermere!



International Article Sponsored By:






















No comments:

Post a Comment