Chefe Syndrome

There is a well-known phenomenon here in Moz that I would like to discuss: Chefe (chief/boss) Syndrome. And yes, that’s with a capital C and a capital S. This happens to some Mozambicans when they get into a position of power: simply put, they let whatever control they have (big or small) go to their heads and make people under their control do ridiculous things. This can happen to teachers, border guards, policemen, or even (unfortunately) our school directors. My favorite example is the head guard at the Teacher Training institute where we live. His name is Manuel, not-so-affectionately referred to as “drunk guard” by my roommate and I (for obvious reasons). The classrooms, dorm buildings and teacher houses are all inside of a fence. This fence has only one gate where people can enter/exit. For “security purposes” the guards get to question anyone entering and ask where they’re going and what they’re going to do there. This is of course to avoid letting thieves in to rob the houses and the school. Never mind that the fence surrounding the entire place is only 6 feet tall, therefore any thief would simply need to jump the fence like all the neighborhood kids do. And there is ample fence to jump well out of site of the guard at the front gate. Manuel still feels the need to stop people at whim and refuse them entry. For example when my secondary students try to come to my house for help. He holds them at the gate and has someone bring me a message at my house and then I have to go to the gate and escort them. Right, Manuel, I’m sure that this young kid in a school uniform carrying only their English book is coming through the front gate to rob a house. That makes complete sense, grrrr. As much as it frustrates me, I have realized that in my second year of teaching I have a little Chefe Syndrome that comes out when I’m at school. At the end of every trimester they do the final test, and different professors are in charge of different rooms full of students taking the test (generally not the professor of that subject with that class of kids to avoid them “helping” the students). The job of the professor in the room is to make sure no one is cheating or using cheat sheets. The effectiveness of this system is questionable since there are some professors that don’t really care and let the kids cheat anyways. I, however, am a cheating nazi—and this is where my Chefe Syndrome rears its ugly head. I hate cheating here….and I do my darndest to stop it. They are ridiculous—it’s not just looking at other papers, it’s cheat sheets and passing notes as well. And they aren’t very good at hiding it, and a lot of the time they are cheating off someone else who doesn’t know the answer. One rule is if they have a scratch paper (and I don’t always let them) they must have an entire sheet. If not they will rip of small pieces to pass the answers along to their friends. I find myself randomly confiscating scratch paper that I believe was passed to them by a friend. I make kids get up and move and sit on the floor. I do this even suspecting that they are cheating…with Chefe syndrome there is no need of proof. If I think you’re cheating it’s probably because you are. If I do catch you with a cheat sheet I get out my big red pen and write “FRAUDE” all over your paper so that the professor will give them a 0. Then I laugh at you and say that you can leave the classroom now, it’s no use finishing your test. I could not have imagined acting this way when I arrived, but that’s how it must be done. One sign of weakness and you’re done for. Give in an inch, give in a mile was never more true. I will have to get this under control going back to America.