I was in JSS 3 then. It must've been one of those free periods in the latter part of the term when teachers bothered less to drop by classes to teach since exams were fast approaching. Or perhaps, it must've been for sure about closing hours when there was no fear of an unscheduled 'tear a sheet of paper' test that made unprepared students break beads of sweat.

But the similarity of both activities is the general outbreak of sweat. And for us (the nearly-senior students), it was a rare privilege to relish the momentary funfair before we sat for our major, external exam.

I was outdoors playing with my classmates. I can imagine the game we were playing was football because that was the easiest sport that could readily get almost all the male students blindly engrossed.

All of a sudden, I heard a teased-out knock on my back, and then a cackling shadow faded. As I turned around to make a clear sense of what was transpiring on my back, the shadow disappeared. 

I didn't mind whoever was behind the shadow at first since I was among the unlucky, cheering spectators who had been a player of one of the ousted teams in a 'set' game. But, after a stealthily repeated ambush on my unwary back, I made up my mind to catch the assailant shadow no matter how.

I heard the knock again; a louder, more fierce smack of a lady's supple left hands. Angrily, I turned back with my right hand morphing into a boxer's fist. Someone, who caught a glimpse of the scene, pointed at the shadow-turned-culprit: "It was Blessing. Joshua, deal with her!"

Before she could slide past the chatty ladies who were manning the entrance of the class, the corner of my left eye caught up with her appearance. Thinking she had gotten away with the stealthy act, uncaught once again, I waited for the right moment to return her favour. The only thing I heard immediately afterwards was her thundered fall. Blessing was already lying on the floor, half-conscious, as many students materialized the scene.

I reeled back in shock, imagining myself imagining being a murderer of my fellow female classmate with just a single (retaliatory) knock. After much resuscitation, she fully regained her consciousness. I was there being accused of assault, and I was struggling to accept that estranged reality when people (who cared less about knowing what had led to the unfortunate situation,) began to take sides. My friends came to my rescue, shielded me from the overwhelming damned looks and comments, and told me I should be thankful she only passed out, and did not die.

What else could I have done aside from being thankful? No, permit me to tell you that if you conclude that you have no other options (like I thought to myself then), you are a defeated man in resignation. Yes, there are pretty much better alternatives. I could have defied that young boy's incitement. I could have caught the culprit and left her with the threat of a potential report to any available teachers. I could have thought of the sin of laying my hands on a lady, and how beastly it is.

Dear fellow men, under no circumstances should you raise your hands against a (vulnerable) woman. Only WEAK men assume that the best way they can wield their masculine power is by beating up a woman (to treat her fuck up!). I know some women are combative, but if the worst-case scenario befalls you, you should either turn her your unslapped left cheek or walk away from the scene, defenceless.