We live in a crazy world where crazy individuals do some crazy things, that is for sure. Yet it feels crazier when you learn that people only live to make other people’s lives miserable. It is even more painful when you happen to the person on the receiving end of the madness. Someone who wants to rip your heart out of your chest, play rugby with it, and then force it back into your ribs through your mouth. At times you wonder why some people existed in this world. Then Boom! The local priests’ voice hits the head, reminding you that God created everyone in his image and that we were all equal before him. It is at those moments that I would ask myself how I could be compared with someone who enjoyed causing me pain. At this time, the pain was becoming unbearable, after two months of bullying.
It all started when I joined my fifth preschool. I am not saying that I had not been bullied in the previous schools. No, I was not that lucky since, in every school, I had attended earlier, I had met this person who considered me a client. I had served several masters in my young life, and just when I thought I was used to it, I met Peace. I still wonder how he managed the contradiction between his name and his attitude. Do not confuse my feelings as though I loved my previous tormentors. No, I hated them, but Peace made them seem like saints to me. At least they had limits when they thought you could die and would reduce the torture. Unlike them, Peace seemed like he targeted his subjects’ death to create space for recruits.
As summer came towards the end, I felt like it was time to go back to the cage and handle my destiny as I waited for another vacation to heal my wounds. As I entered elementary school, I looked around at young souls in every corner happily sharing their holiday experiences. However, I could not see Peace. I wished this could be good news since his absence meant real Peace. However, I remembered that it was better to know where he was so that I could keep a safe distance than to be caught in surprise. A significant number of students were from preschool, and thus it was highly unlikely that he would not be here. Could it be that my prayers were finally answered? I wondered, given that since my first encounter with a bully, I have always reported to a new school with my fingers crossed, hoping that no one would be after my harmless soul.
Immediately I sat down in class, I got a soft pat on my shoulder only to turn back and meet with Peace standing straight behind me. He was here for his dues, which included all my snacks or a piece of it on a good day. Unfortunately, I had shared it out with friends as we were catching up before class. I still regret the day. Peace took me to the back of the class and ordered me to bake him cakes using water and imaginary wheat flour. I suggested to bring a double portion the following day, but he did not pay attention.
He finally agreed to the deal, and all that remained was that during the break, we would sign the agreement in his chambers. The whole class understood what the date entailed. It was his way of inviting someone to a secluded place where he will treat you as he pleased. I was not new to it since I had experienced several encounters with him in such places where I would clean his shoes using my handkerchief before receiving several slaps and maybe a blow depending on his moods. At one time, I was booked the appointment after defending a classmate who had accidentally stepped on Peace’s shoes. I tried to mediate between the two to save Kimly from what awaited him, but it did not augur well with Peace.
Today, the mediator had turned into a victim and a hero in the making. It was my turn to visit the chambers, but as I turned to go back to my seat, I saw Kelly walk towards Peace with a small can of snacks. He had decided to return the favor by offering the cakes in exchange for the cancelation of the inevitable meeting. Peace took his rightful gifts and enjoyed them in front of the class as he joked that Kimly had become a savior. According to him, Kimly was trying to challenge his decision. Instead of scraping off the meeting, he ordered both us to meet him during break time in the set venue. A small act of kindness had landed another classmate in trouble.
The good thing about drums is that when they are hit for too long and cannot bear it anymore, they burst out. On this day, I think the oppressed had felt enough was enough. During break time, we attended the meeting punctually and found Peace with his colleagues waiting. They blindfolded us and ordered us to kneel. I felt a slap on my cheeks that sent me on the ground, and I could not wait for a second one. I removed the blindfold and confronted him. As he threw the next blow, I blocked him and wrestled him to the ground. The commotion attracted more students who cheered while some joined in the fight. We ganged up against Peace as his friends ran for safety. He surrendered and begged for forgiveness from the class. The event marked my heroic end to bullying.
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