by I was in grade three when I stood up against a bully. I was about 10 years old then. He was a grade ahead and about two years older.
It was towards the end of the day and we were all going about the school ground trying to organize into groups for the afternoon’s activities.
He was one of the leaders for our group and was marshaling everyone to gather under a nearby rain tree.
I was on my way there when he stopped me. I told him I was just heading there. He spoke harder and pushed me to the ground.
It was not the first time this happened. I’ve been bullied before by other students. Growing up, I was a chubby kid. I had an older sister and only a little brother after me who was just a toddler than.
I had some good friends and though they were older than myself, they were still no match for those bullies who picked on us, especially me.
Growing up in a province away from home, I missed out on the manly influence from my older cousins and uncles who were great boxers and rugby players.
They wanted me to join them in boxing but I could not because we lived far away. They even showed me some moves when we went home for the holidays, and got me to spar with other cousins my age. They said I was good. One time I almost knocked out a cousin and they had to separate us because I kept beating him.
Paps was a tough and short tampered man but he always followed protocol by reporting the incidents to the proper school authorities. It was mams who would physically come to my rescue. But I knew she could not be there all the time. We were strangers to many in a new community in another province.
The best way Paps taught me to be strong was to face the danger myself and not complain about the result. To fight back when there was no one else coming for you. It was something that goes back down his family’s line of warriors. He wanted us to be like that. It was in our blood.
After taking hits and being pushed around for a while, there will come a time when I must stand up for myself and push back. That day was today and this boy was going to be the unluckiest of them all.
After falling on my back and looking up at him as he grinned, I burned inside and drew the courage to finally push back.
I picked myself up as he watched. I stood facing him. He smirked and was about to turn away when I threw a right cross and connected him between his nose and upper lip. The force sent him backward. He turned with a grimace and stared.
Someone saw blood coming from his left nostril and told him. That pissed him off more and he turned to me again. He slapped me and stared again as I stood facing him unscathed or fazed.
Without another word or action he left me and continued on his way wiping the blood off his nose.
No one ever messed with me again.
