Office of the Headmaster Uagadou Only

Office of the Headmaster

Anthonie was keen to claim the room of his predecessor, and despite the short amount of time he had been headmaster, it was already starting to reflect his own flairs, or lack thereof. It was not that Anthonie lacked personality; he simply wished to keep his personal items in his private accommodation. It was clean, orderly, with all valuable belongings kept in his own room rather than the office.

He had settled into the old building of Headmaster Jabari, favouring it for its central location. At the heart of the school, it was easily accessible yet a safe haven with the addition of charms against the bustling exterior. The muted environment inside made a stark contrast to unfiltered chaos of teenagers. A darkly-coloured rug also made a distinction from the stone ground outside. Following in Jabari’s footsteps, he had decided against installing a lock, but an action made for efficiency should not be misinterpreted. To access his main office, once entered, students must ascend a winding staircase to a open entryway.

A desk stood directed at the entryway, where Anthonie sat facing the it. An opposite chair, available for students, was set on the other side of the table. Both were a dark rosewood with a plainly cushioned seat and back. They were designed to be practical, but not uncomfortable. The desk itself was spacious for Anthonie's wide variety of work, yet meticulously organised nevertheless. A placard sat on its surface, written in fine black ink: Anthonie C. Engelbrecht. One could also spot a photo frame, turned inwards towards Anthonie's direction, depicting a photo with his younger sister and part-crup. No shelves lined the wall, but carved out alcoves provided space for scrolls, parchment, and books, as well as other equipment he may need. Two springbok statues sat facing on the shelves each other, separating apart volumes of heavy theory books.

Although there were no locks on the door, it was no invitation to enter without permission; Anthonie prided himself and his students in the trust he could hold between them. Knocks would have been appreciated and would be responded to with a soft click of charm that opened the door, a wordless summon to enter without utterance. Once the student arrived, they would be faced with a sharp, though not unpleasant, scent of cologne. A gesture would ask for them to sit down, or if they preferred to stand, Anthonie respected that decision as well.

Aware of the student's entry, Anthonie would have already cleared up his work, and be sat straight with folded hands. The next words would follow in polished Swahili, tone calculated, yet almost curious: “How may I help you?”