The Professor

A lifetime of learning

The professor leaned back in his leather chair and took a puff of his pipe.

"Reality is more about what is relevant than what is real. Each of us has our own reality defined by our perceptions. George, think on this. What is the reality of a dog? What is the reality of a fly? What is the reality of a nomad in the Sahara? What is the reality of a billionaire in Davos? All of these realities are different, relevant only to each and every person."

The old man across from the professor had a long gray beard. "Professor, may I ask you another question?"

The professor nodded.

"Do I need to be the same type of person as my mate? We are so different, yet we love each other."

The professor swiveled in his chair.

"George, you've been my student for years. You are a couple decades older than me, and still you wrestle with that question. I must admit my knowledge of love is beyond my ken. I have studied the great mystics, the philosophers, the Greeks, the Romans, African history, zoology, biology, musicology, psychology, and even hematology, and yet I have never figured out the mysteries of love."

"I have learned much from you, Professor, and I have paid a lot of money to this university—so much that I no longer have money for my own retirement." George shook his head. "University in this country is too expensive."

"Well, to be honest with you, George, most people go to college for four years. Even a master's degree is one or two. A PhD is six to eight. But you have stayed in university your entire life."

"Yes, my entire life spent trying to figure out the mysteries of love—studying all the subjects, talking to the most prestigious professors at the university, and yet I've come up empty-handed."

"When you find out the answers, George, let me know. I would gladly enroll in your course. No matter the cost!"

They both burst into laughter.

"Excuse me, excuse me."

Both the professor and his elderly student turned around in shock.

A small maid carrying a bucket and mop was wiping down the office. Neither one of them had even noticed she was there.

"I couldn't help overhearing," she said with a thick accent. "You have to listen to your wife."

George's mouth fell agape. The professor's too.

"I never thought of that."

"Me neither," replied the professor.

"I think I need a new tutor," said George.

The maid shook her head and continued mopping.

A story by Pemba Umoja