Professor Buttocks
On Thursday afternoon, the Dar es Salaam sun decided to work overtime. The air felt heavy, the ground scorched, and even the university trees stood motionless as if requesting a leave of absence from providing shade.
Students inside the lecture hall were fanning themselves with notebooks. Kiboko had improvised a paper fan far stronger than his hopes of earning an A grade. Neema tied her hair up high, while John Google was busy searching "how to survive Dar es Salaam heat without AC."
Suddenly, the door swung open.
In stepped Professor Buttocks.
However, this time he didn't enter as usual. He wore a heavy wool suit, a massive tie, a vest underneath, long socks, polished dress shoes, and a round bowler hat. He was dripping sweat like a burst pipe, yet his face wore the serene smile of a man undergoing honorable self-torture.
Kiboko: "Professor! Are you wearing a three-piece suit or a furnace?"
Professor Buttocks: "This is not a suit. This is development."
Neema: "But Professor, the heat is brutal."
Professor Buttocks: "A civilized African must suffer a little so he appears official."
The classroom erupted into uncontrollable laughter. The professor stepped to the front, wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, and wrote on the chalkboard:
A Hot Suit and a Cold Mind
The professor turned around and announced, "Today I dressed like this to expose a major disease called worshipping foreign things even when they cause you physical suffering."
The students chuckled once more.
"We are in Dar es Salaam. The sun burns with tax-collector fury. Yet a person puts on a thick wool suit just to look educated. Meanwhile, if someone wears a clean kanzu, a beautiful Kitenge, respectable Batik, or attire suited for our weather, they are viewed as unserious."
The class laughed, but the professor remained solemn. He slowly unknotted his tie and placed it on the desk as if submitting evidence in a court case.
"The issue isn't the suit itself. The suit is not the enemy. The problem is the mindset that believes a person's worth begins with imitation."
Colonialism Can Leave a Country, Yet Remain in the Mind
The professor wrote again on the board:
The lecture hall settled into quiet reflection.
"Foreign colonizers departed with their flags, but certain people left chairs vacant for them inside their minds. That is why to this day, if a person speaks fluent Swahili they are seen as ordinary, but if they mangle English horribly, they are perceived as an intellectual scholar."
John Google: "Professor, English is important."
Professor Buttocks: "Yes, it is important. When a foreign language serves as a bridge, it is wonderful. When it serves as a whip to flog yourself, it becomes a tragedy."
Kiboko: "So when someone peppers their speech with 'basically, actually, technically,' they automatically look smart?"
Professor Buttocks: "Precisely. Even if basically they have no point, actually they have no plan, and technically they don't know what they're talking about."
The hall burst into laughter. Neema wrote a note in her journal: "Speaking someone's language isn't the problem. Despising yourself because of your own language is the real issue."
Praising Others While Despising Our Own
The professor continued, "We suffer from a habit of cheering foreign products, fashions, names, schools, languages, and ideas before even asking if they suit us. When we hear something originates from abroad, we grant it instant reverence. When it originates locally, we subject it to a hundred skeptical questions."
"If hair oil is imported, we praise it. If produced right here, we ask, 'Does this actually work?' Foreign dishes are called 'cuisine.' Our local food is dismissed as 'just ugali.' Foreign music is termed 'art.' Our traditional drumming is labeled 'heritage'—as though heritage belongs exclusively in a museum."
The students laughed loudly, yet those words hung in the air like lingering smoke.
Self-Awareness Is Not Hating Foreigners
Neema raised her hand.
Neema: "Professor, are you implying we should reject foreign cultures?"
Professor Buttocks: "No. An intelligent person doesn't ban knowledge simply because it comes from outside. But neither do they receive it on bended knees."
Neema: "So we should learn, without despising ourselves?"
Professor Buttocks: "Now you are speaking like someone who has eaten a wholesome home-cooked meal."
The professor added, "Self-awareness is not hating another's culture. It is recognizing the value of your own before borrowing someone else's. A tree lacking its own roots cannot benefit from distant rainfall."
Deeper Insight: This lecture doesn't oppose learning from the global community. It critiques the psychological dependency that makes an African feel validated only when imitating foreign cultures, languages, and systems. Self-awareness means absorbing the best from the world without despising your roots.
What Are Colonial Ghosts?
Kiboko raised his hand again.
Kiboko: "Professor, what do you mean by colonial ghosts? Are they actual ghosts?"
Professor Buttocks: "They are mental phantoms. Invisible, yet dictatorial."
John Google: "What do they dictate?"
Professor Buttocks: "They tell you your child's name lacks dignity unless its pronunciation proves difficult for their grandmother. They tell you a home is only modern if stripped of indigenous identity. They tell you education is superior only when delivered in a language you barely comprehend."
The class laughed, though several nodded in deep agreement.
"These phantoms whisper: dress like this, speak like this, eat like this, think like this, feel ashamed of what is yours, marvel at what belongs to others. In the end, a person wears African skin, carries a foreign name, harbors foreign dreams, bears internal shame, and lives a rootless existence."
Identity Is Not a Museum
Professor Buttocks peeled off his heavy jacket. The class cheered as if a goal had just been scored. He was so soaked in sweat that his shirt resembled an unfamiliar geographic map.
"African identity is not about regressing into the past. It isn't about wearing animal skins, rejecting technology, despising English, or shunning progress. That is foolishness preached by people who think the world moves in only one direction."
"Identity is knowing who you are when you face the world. It is speaking Swahili without shame. It is wearing your traditional attire without feeling inferior. It is building local businesses to global standards. It is acquiring foreign science and deploying it to solve problems at home."
Neema asked, "So self-awareness means standing firm in the middle?"
The professor replied, "It means standing firmly upon your roots while your hands reach out to touch the world."
Classroom Reflection
The professor asked the students to share one heritage element they had previously looked down upon because it seemed unmodern.
One student admitted, "I used to feel embarrassed speaking my native mother tongue around friends."
Another shared, "I felt traditional home dishes lacked prestige unless I posted photos of burgers online."
John Google confessed, "I used to view someone presenting in Swahili during academic sessions as unprofessional."
Kiboko chimed in, "I used to think my grandfather lacked education, until I realized he could predict rainfall far better than a weather forecast app."
The hall laughed, but Professor Buttocks noted, "Your grandfather holds a PhD in cloud science. The problem is you never put a graduation gown on him."
End of Lecture Room: Thursday
When the bell rang, Professor Buttocks had stripped off the jacket, tie, hat, and suit. Remaining in a light shirt, he breathed deeply like a man returning from garment colonialism.
He picked up his jacket, inspected it, and remarked to the class:
The students laughed. But this time, every individual was reflecting on their own identity: their language, their name, their food, their attire, and the unnecessary shame they had carried.
Neema wrote at the bottom of her page:
"Self-awareness isn't rejecting the world. It is entering the world without losing yourself."
Deeper Message
Thursday's Lecture Room critiques psychological dependency on colonial mindsets and the habit of despising African identity. Professor Buttocks uses a heavy suit in sweltering heat as a comical metaphor showing how people imitate foreign customs even when harmful. His message isn't to reject global wisdom, but to learn without self-contempt.