My Missing Student

It was the day after the Water Festival stampede and my 6.00 am class were sitting quietly. There was one vacant chair; a student who is never absent, was not there.

At the end of the class a student approached me. She wanted to know if I had the phone number of the missing classmate. I didn't. I ask if she thought that something had happened to her. She did but couldn't explain why she thought that and with tears welling she left the room.

Perhaps she thought she saw a photo of her absent friend in one of the many photos of the dead shown on TV or in the newspapers? I didn't know.

Two days later and the class slowly file in again. There is still one vacant chair. The students are uneasy. Slowly questions are asked about the absent student but nobody knows anything.

So, I give them some work to go on with and go looking for information. Finally armed with phone numbers I ask reception to make a call. Is she OK, or is she one of the victims?

Reception gets through at the first attempt. The student is in bed, tired of early morning starts, oblivious to all the concern.