GANG FIGHT

GANG FIGHT😡

I passed through my high school quite peacefully. In Real Amass, my class was considered the “ladies’ class”, since it had so many ladies. My year group for example had twice the gents, plus a little more of the ladies. I cannot actually remember the exact figures though. Some called me “kubolor” which is the colloquial for, but not exactly the word “truant” in English. I disagree though, I just did not like sitting for long hours or following routine. More so, I had my ways of justifying my absenteeism in the class. Since this isn’t the reason for the work, I would save the explanations for later. 

The topic might get you wondering whether I am probably here to talk about the effects of gang fights or something related to that, but no. I am giving an account of my involvement in a gang fight, and to express my unreserved pain, anger, feeling of stupidity and disappointment in my abilities after taking a reply to a punch in a bad way. It landed straight on my jaw, made me feel as if some teeth had shifted, and the discovery that after all, I wasn’t as powerful as I thought.

Let me dive straight into it. Before that, yes!, I regret listening to my class fellows and I regret agreeing to their plan. So, it all started when we were about to write our final paper to complete our senior high education. The class, with majority of its populists being ladies, wanted us to do something which would serve as last memory for us as a class. It had to be daring they said, and it had to be made memorable necessarily. They agreed on going out of campus after our last paper(I wasn't available during the deliberations quite as usual), at night, and return pretty late. 

a section of my high school mates during our final days

This idea was supposed to be  great for a couple of reasons. One, the security at the gate was strict, and there had been some feud between some of the officials and some of my colleagues, so after our last paper, we were officially not students of the school any longer, but due to our familiarity, we would be allowed into the school at night. I personally had had a good relationship with some of the security guys, so coming back late in such a condition wouldn’t have been much of a big deal. Secondly, even those “silent” ones in the class were supposed to join the last memorable outing. Anyway, we finished our paper, walked around, tried to gather our things, and anticipating for nightfall. 

Evening came, and this was when the plan started to fail. First off, a few students turned up. As already stated, the guys in the class were already few, and fewer ended up coming. I was one of the unlucky two. Also, quite common with ladies from my part of the world, they take relatively longer to get ready for even simple errands, for this, most of them too came late. They were so late that we had to go without some of them. I personally believe that some of them too had other programmes for the last night in school we didn’t know about. 

We thought we had everything figured out prior to leaving campus, but we did not. We left without knowing where we were headed, so we kept walking just like that and agreeing to suggestions from a part of the group to check this or that place out. Thirty minutes in, we were all tired, stranded, and most had regretted the plan. You can’t blame them. I hadn’t been the ideal colleague, so I wanted to use this opportunity to entertain them and in a small way make it up to them. So even though things weren't going as planned, I had to be a team player. 

Our loitering got us to the fountain at Baba Yara Sports Stadium which is pretty close to our school. Let me mention this here, we had heard stories in school about how stubborn the youth who stayed near the stadium were. Well, I didn’t believe it as at the time we were there. As I said earlier, my class had a lot of females, so as usual, they wanted to have some fun. That attracted attention. They had been noticed by some guys who I think wanted to try  their luck with them. That met with hostility as usual, since it makes no sense if you just come and try to dance and grind a stranger who is among her mates. The guy took offence and abused the ladies. He didn’t do well, and I saw everything along with other people who were also there. He went and came back after about two minutes with a gang (I guess you are getting the connection now). 

The gang consisted of about 6 young guys who I think were high. They came and pushed some of our ladies about, saying during the act that my mates didn’t respect and have messed with the wrong people. I kept telling my people not to say anything since I smelled the scent of Indian hemp. Other people then intervened and cooled things off. The guys reluctantly left.

I was pretty pissed at the act, and also had failed to show that “I’ve got their backs”, unless trying for them not to get beaten the more could be categorised under the same thing. Now, the same guy who started the whole brouhaha came back to show his status, daring us here and there. A lady challenged him to a fight, and said that if he believed his capabilities and thought he could defeat her in a fair fight, they should arrange for the fight and be allowed to fight without the help from his squad. 

This was the time I had to do something. Come on, I couldn’t allow the lady to take on the guy just with me looking on, so I got into it, and asked the guy to stop what he was doing because it was childish. He got offended and tried to attack me, it was interrupted by a lady who got hit. This really unleashed the dragon in me, but I knew that I couldn’t get beaten as our last memory, so I stood behind a few people and pretended to be stopped. I think it was necessary. The friends of the guy came around once again and started hitting anybody they could find. It all happened so fast. I looked through, saw my people were on the losing  side, and saw other people coming in to stop the fight because my people had also been angered, and there was a fight.

I strategically positioned myself in such a way that I would get the chance to land the last punch when we were separated. I did get the chance to throw the last punch(at least from my group). I missed slightly though, but I still hit my target pretty hard. I was happy, even though my hand couldn’t do what my heart had tasked it to do. The guy had to land on the ground, but he didn't. How possible?, I thought the power in my left hand was so strong that one day I thought of slapping a bull, and felt good inside. So for a common man, he just had to fall. I guess he was very lucky that I couldn’t get him fully but all the same, the next thing was my surprise. You see, as earlier stated, my punch was supposed to be the last one but it wasn’t. When I posted mine, I got relaxed because it was during the separation of the fight. I also made sure that my people had seen me transferring the punch, so that at least they will know that I also helped.

all smiley A1 students of Real Amass 2015

So as I turned to them trying to console them and flexing my muscle, I lost sight of the situation. The guy had dissociated himself from the public, and slowly had walked quite closer to my pack, and located me. I think he employed all his strength, the last of it, and all his anger, I’m not sure he left his pain too, and a little seasoning of his desperation, and threw a slunch ( I am not sure whether it was a slap or a punch, hence the new name). My jaw had to be hospitable to accommodate that hostile visit of his fist. It sent chills down my spine. By the time I gained balance, he had gone. The most painful thing about this whole incident is how my female colleagues, had to console me altogether. I didn’t need it, I actually was on top of my game till this wizard found a way of putting an end to my glory. If not for him, I believe that I would’ve been called “a real man”, or I wouldn’t even be surprised if they all remembered me as “the liberator of women”. Now I have no idea what they think of me. 

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...........FROM THE EXPERIENCES OF AN UNPROFESSIONAL WRITER)