I did not start it. Honestly I did not start it.

She did. Sandra Ehihegbamen did.

And they fueled it.

Yes, my friends fueled it.

Femi, Tunde, Idowu and Rasheed fueled it.

They fueled it and the endgame was my undoing.

She wiped the board while I was still writing,

She cleaned off what the teacher wrote on the blackboard,

I told her not to, that I was still writing,

She only hissed and continued.

I would not have reacted had my friends shut their mouths.

I would not have raised my hands,

Had her friends not looked at me like that,

I threatened fire and brimstone,

Promising to kill her if she did not stop wiping the board,

She stood her ground and dared me to do my worst.

My friends urged me on,

Telling to stand my ground and show her I was the man.

Her friends stood rock solid behind her,

They encouraged her to give me a piece of her mind.

Pride filled my heart, blinding my eyes,

Ego blocked my thoughts,

I pulled my belt to deal with her.

Even while pulling the belt she dared me.

Dared me to hit her and see hell.

Her taunts fueled my fury, lending a hand to my resolve.

Twack! Twack! The belt struck her, but not beyond that.

She held on to the belt before I could go ahead.

It was after feeling dazed that I realized she had slapped me.

One minute I was holding up my belt,

The next minute I was under her, taking so many blows that could pound yam to pulp.

How it happened, till today I still wonder,

It happened so fast, too fast,

Even Jet-Li would have been envious.

All I remembered was that her knees pinned my shoulders,

Her buttocks rested flat on chest and her legs packed my hands tightly to my side.

My face moved from side to side

Yielding to the impact made by her hands on my face.

The slaps came raining down in torrents,

And I could not do anything to stop them.

It took the timely intervention of the teacher,

To extricate me from under her,

But not before she had beaten ‘the hell’ out of me.

My cheeks were swollen cheeks,

My lips were bruised and one eye was swollen.

I busted into tears as I explained my part to the teacher.

I took a closer look at the girl who just beat me,

And I knew I had bitten more than I could chew.

Between my tears I threatened, cursed, raved and ranted,

Puffing like a goofy toad.

I promised her hell.

I promised her moments of hurt and grief.

She only had to pretend to come close

And I once again took refuge in the teacher’s embrace.

It took me another one week to summon the guts to return to class,

Even then the taunts knew no end.

I became ‘the boy who was beaten by a girl’.

No one remembered that our class captain

Was also once beaten by the same girl.

My friends who led me into the fight nko?

They vanished the moment Sandra began her fistful lessons,

Leaving me to learn my lesson in a hard way,

As for Sandra, I still await the say I would take my revenge.

Or maybe I should just keep to my own and not get beaten again.

Or what do you think?

 

Have you heard of a case where he was beaten by a ‘she’. Oya shareyour stories too……

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About The Author

Team Lead - Contents

The brain behind Deedeesblog, Detola is an embodiment of creativity - With deep knowledge in Counseling and Photography, He started this platform to share happiness via digital contents in Relationships and Documentaries. Content here tells a story with the intention to shape narratives. What's your Love and Life story? Care to Share? Connect with Detola on admin@deedeesblog.com

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