The story of a young black man Chapter 10 - Mzansi Stories

Monday, January 25

Wizzy

The story of a young black man Chapter 10

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Leeto: The story of a young black man

No fighting at school

Chapter 10

Batista threw me a vicious slap across the face because I was the last person to open his mouth during the confrontation. As the buffed guy’s powerful slap almost knocked me to the ground, the crowd of learners began to cheer. School learners from all over the world love fights; they simply live for these moments. Everyone had their cellphones out, shooting the video of our fight with this guy. I must say, Batista’s slap almost knocked me out cold, fortunately I could save face by not falling to the ground and fainting—that would’ve been really embarrassing. Tshepang threw a punch against Batista’s chin however that had minimal effect on the big guy as Tshepang was also slapped across the face. Batista’s slap to Tshepang was so vicious that had there been caves nearby, its echo could have been heard in them. The slap’s force was enough to knock Tshepang on the ground, much to the pleasure of the cheering onlookers.

Samson pushed Batista to the side before he could launch more attacks on me and Tshepang. Batista then grabbed Samson by the throat and said, in a scary, sadistic voice, “I want to teach you lot a lesson today; I want to beat the crap out of you all”. As Samson was struggling to free himself from Batista’s grasp, I came to his rescue by kicking Batista on the hip. Tshepang, who was now getting up from his fall earlier, had a brick in his hand. “No Tshepang, don’t!” one of the onlookers warned. Luckily Tshepang listened to the onlooker’s warning and dropped the brick. I am glad Tshepang listened to the onlooker because had he thrown the brick and missed Batista, that might’ve resulted in a very serious injury to one of the onlookers. I mean, it was bad enough that we were fighting just outside the school premises.

Tshepang threw a few punches onto Batista, who by now, was trying to get his hands on Samson, his main focus for the day. I also took the opportunity to throw a few weak upper cuts and jabs to a tired-looking Batista. Truth be told, we were all tiring up by now because it was, after all, a long, hot day in class, except maybe for Samson, whose day was much shorter than normal. Batista hit me with his big elbow on my forehead and I fell to the ground. Since I had no breath left in me to stand up and carry on with the fight, I decided to grab Batista by his right leg in order to restrict his movement. Tshepang and Samson took this opportunity to kick and punch the, now exhausted, muscle-head until he give-in and collapsed to the ground.

Seeing that her boyfriend was on a brink of his first-ever defeat at the hands of ‘nobodies’ in the school, Ntombi jumped in and bit Samson on his shoulder. Samson pushed her away and then punched her right on her left eye. Some onlookers must have grabbed hold of her because afterwards, I did not see where Ntombi had disappeared to. Trying to save their friend from further humiliation, Mandla ‘Iron Man’ Nzimela and Godfrey ‘Bill Goldberg’ Sisonke, ignored Batista’s request for them not to get involved and joined-in the fight. “Oh shit”, I thought to myself, “now we’re seriously going to get beat up. I mean it took the three of us to get one of these guys to the ground, now how are we going to tackle these two, especially Iron Man, who was even bigger than Batista. Boy was I worried for nothing because Samson already had a plan up his sleeve.

“Ah! He just stabbed me with something sharp!” Iron Man screamed in agony. Samson had just stabbed him with a ballpoint pen on his left arm. As Samson moved in, trying to draw more blood from the big guy, someone grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Let go of me, you…” Samson demanded, however was interrupted when he saw who it was who had just broken off the fight. It was Mr Masemola, our business economics teacher. “You boys are in a lot of trouble”, he said. “Lehabe, Marumo, Motshweneng, Nzimela and Padi”, Mr Masemola instructed, “follow me to the principal’s office now!”  Mr Masemola also dispersed the crowd of learners before leading us back into the school premises. “Sir”, Batista said to Mr Masemola, “Even Goldberg, I mean, Godfrey Sisonke, was part of the fight”. “SISONKE!” Mr Masemola screamed for Bill Goldberg, who had mixed-in with the crowd and was now also walking away with the other learners, “I SAID, COME WITH ME TO MR NKOMO’S OFFICE OR ARE YOU DEAF?” Bill Goldberg submitted to the instruction and followed us to Mr Nkomo’s office.

As we entered Mr Nkomo’s office, his personal assistant, Bridgette ‘Miss Lovely Legs’ Mohube was busy tidying up her table. “Hello again, Bridgette”, Mr Masemola greeted, “I know it’s late however I would like to have a word with Mr Nkomo; it’s rather urgent”. “Okay”, Bridgette replied, “He’s free, you can go in”. We found Mr Nkomo busy reading something on his computer, could’ve been an email or something. Before Mr Masemola could say anything, Mr Nkomo said, “Let me guess, another fight? Relax, Mr Masemola, I saw the whole thing through my office window. Boys, I want to see all of you tomorrow morning in my office together with your parents at 08h30 sharp”. After that, Mr Masemola instructed us all to go straight home and not get in any more fights.


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