A Teacher’s Dilemma: Justice or Mercy?

Our instinct is not always wrong. There is a saying that it is always good to follow one’s heart. Some people would say, "as the spirit leads." Having a strong and accurate instinct can help avert many calamities and enable one to make sound judgments about situations and events.

Last year, around August, during the long vacation holiday, something happened that reinforced my belief in instincts. Those familiar with Nigeria’s education system can relate—this holiday lasts about two months. In Lagos State, the government does not want students to remain idle for such an extended period, so they ensure that teachers are available for at least a month-long lesson program for the students. Since they also acknowledge that teachers need rest, they made the schedule flexible, allowing teachers to choose the dates that suit them best.

As an English teacher, I selected two days—Monday and Tuesday—for easy mobility and to minimize expenses. Towards the end of the lesson period, my phone was stolen from my office. A student had taken it while I was teaching. I did everything possible to search for it but couldn't find it. I called all the students and asked if anyone had picked up my phone, but they all denied it. Since the school wasn’t officially in session, there was no way to search them.

To my surprise, when I got home that day, one of my students called to inform me that he had seen a phone resembling mine. I asked him to describe it, and his description matched. He then asked me to give him my password so he could confirm whether it was truly my phone. Initially, I considered telling him, but my instinct warned me against it. If he had actually stolen it, providing the password would mean I might never recover it. Instead, I told him to go to school and inform one of the teachers, who could then accompany him to retrieve the phone.

However, when he got to school, he lied. One of the teachers suggested I give him the password, believing he was trustworthy since he was an executive in the school fellowship. I reluctantly agreed. A while later, he called me back, claiming it wasn’t my phone because the password didn’t work. At that moment, I knew he was the one who had stolen it and only wanted the password to avoid taking it to an engineer to flash it. Over time, I let it go and moved on.

However, yesterday, three students came to charge their phones in my office, even though I had previously warned them not to. I confiscated their phones, and as I examined them, I noticed that one of the phones looked exactly like mine. To be sure, I inquired about who had brought the phone to charge. To my surprise, it belonged to the same boy who had called me about my stolen phone months ago.

I decided to inspect the phone further. I removed the casing and stickers that had been used to cover it, and to my shock, it was indeed my stolen phone.

At that moment, I didn’t even know how to react. I asked all the other students in my office to leave, except for him. Once we were alone, I asked him directly if the phone was mine, and he admitted it. At that point, I was torn between slapping him and restraining myself. When I consulted my colleagues, they all agreed that I should have given him a dirty slap for what he did.

After a long discussion, we decided that he should call his parents to come to the school the next day. However, instead of his parents, his aunt and brother came, explaining that his parents had travelled for work. They felt bad about the situation, but what baffled me most was that the boy showed no sign of remorse.

If I had taken strict action, he would have been expelled and might not have been allowed to sit for his WAEC, which was scheduled to take place in a few months. The phone itself had been completely damaged due to his mishandling. In the end, I simply told his family to repair the phone and return it to me in its original condition.

Now, I am left wondering if I handled the situation the right way. What do you think?