What’s your story is a true story; my true story. It’s all about series of hilarious events that happened in my childhood and in my teenage. Going back in memory, I remember some things I did and some things that happened that make me want to die of laughter now, the pranks I played then, all the silly moments, all the happy and sad moments, the unforgettable moments etc. So here I am, remembering as much as I can and sharing with everybody my childhood story. As a nobody, I actually don’t expect anything from sharing these funny stories, it’s just for fun and for everyone to see how fun it is now remembering the things I did that shaped who I am today. This is my way of saying thank God for the grace of life thus far which I gladly appreciate.
I will also be sharing other people’s childhood stories on this page, so if you wish to share your own childhood memories, tweet me @brunotesoro or inbox my Facebook page.
My childhood wasn’t that smooth at all, I attended five primary schools and three secondary schools. So you see I’m always on the go. Born in the in city, I spent most of my childhood in the villa that is, I grew in the hood. I can’t remember anything that is hilarious about my life that happened between 0-10 years, virtually because I didn’t know they were happening unless someone told me and I didn’t even who I was then. But there is one thing I can remember very well about myself as a child and that is I PLAY A LOT, I play everywhere and every time. All my primary school teachers that taught me in all the five primary schools I attended complained of the same thing and it is always written well in all my end of term reports. This reports comes in different styles, some of my teachers would write ‘Good result but always playing in class’ or ‘Good result but he plays too much in class. Even some go extra mile to advice my parents that I should not be allowed to play during the holiday instead I should be enrolled in holiday classes. This resulted to my dad bringing me back from where I have gone to stay with my aunt for holidays after just nine days to attend lessons. Well that didn’t stop me from doing my thing as I got into secondary school, my playing woes continued.
Back then in school I was known with a lot of things ranging from being very noisy to always playing in class and playing pranks but fighting is not one of the things am known for. As much as I love playing, I didn’t really like getting into trouble, so I have very low records of getting into trouble that it is rare to hear I was in a fight. When I was still in JSS2, back then I was one of the smallest dude in class. In fact, I have always been one of the smallest in every single class I have been in. Because of that, getting bullied has become part of life for me though I hated been bullied and sometimes I don’t take it no matter who you are. Well on this particular day, I wasn’t ready to be bullied. We were out for break and I went into an empty class which is the usual spot for playing for I and my friends but they weren’t there (Probably they were serving punishment somewhere) so I went to look for them. As I was leaving, a boy put his foot for me and I almost tripped. I became angry, so I went over to him and he pushed me. I pushed him back and then we began to fight. The boy is older and bigger than me, to make it worse for me, none of my friends were around there to save me. Actually, we weren’t fighting, he was beating me. At a point, though the boys around there were mostly his friends, one of them came and separated us by then I was crying. After we were separated, they asked me what happened, I couldn’t talk because I was choking with tears, and the other boy now told them a different story about what happen. I was furious by now, I was thinking of what to do to get back at him. So as he was talking, something came to my mind and without thinking twice about it, I went close to him and suddenly, I threw my heaviest punch at that time at his face, it landed straight on his mouth. Everybody was shocked, I was shocked too because I had barely thought about it in a second. The boy held his mouth, he spat and there was blood. He looked at me and I saw fire in his eyes, at that moment taking off would be my best option but it was late. The boy had already pounced on me and was hitting me all over. This time around, nobody separated us including the boy that separated us earlier. While I was receiving the beating of my life I overheard one of them tell someone who was coming to separate us to leave us alone to fight because that’s what I want.
“He wants to fight, so let him fight” the boy said.
Honestly, I can’t remember how I was later liberated but I remember that I looked at myself once I was out of his hands to see if there was any trace of blood and there wasn’t. I declared myself winner in my mind though I was still crying. I saw myself as the winner of the fight because, back then fights are not decided by number of punches but by who threw the other on the ground and fed him with sand and also by who made the other bleed. It is useless to throw punches without making your opponent bleed. So by this judgement, I won the fight because he would have to explain to his parents what happened to his tooth while I would walk away just the way I came into the fight, CLEAN. I don’t know if he still remembers the fight as much as I do but I do enjoy remembering the fight.
Well I changed my reputation, the rate at which I was been bullied reduced and as for the boy I fought with, we never crossed each other’s path until I left the school.
The next day…………………………..
Please don’t ask what……………..OK FINE!!!
Well…..I didn’t go to school
Don’t ask what happened….because it’s obvious…..NOBODY takes that kind of beating and doesn’t fall sick.
Bruno Writes 