CHILDREN OF THE 90s; THE ORDER OF HIERARCHY I

Some names have been changed to suit my purposes...the stories included in this series are 85% accurate... just don't ask me what is real and what isn't...enjoy!

It has dawned on me why I hated Amala and Ewedu soup as a kid. One word; Mr.Femi… The most disgusting teacher you ever had the displeasure of having. You see there is a hierarchy in almost every relationship among humans and among the teacher of my primary school Mr. Femi was at the bottom of the social ladder, yet he could give two cents about what anyone thought of him. Teachers were supposed to come to school early before pupils as an example of early attendance but Mr. Femi never came to school earlier than 8:30 am. His clothes seemed to beg for laundry detergent… a dull shade of green seemed to have taken residence underneath all his shirts and the collars were a permanent brown. The stench that emanated from his pores when I stood close to him….oh the smell!!! I always had to suck in lungs full of air so I wouldn’t have to take any when I was standing in his presence.

Still, I was excited to take Yoruba as a minor language class from primary 4 because even though he was undoubtedly knowledgeable, his class antics were deplorable. First off, what kinda teacher writes on the chalkboard with his left hand while licking ewedu soup from his right hand?  Mr. Femi never had the decency of waiting for 11:20am to eat his meals…oh no! He did that right in the class as he was teaching us. I would sit there, five feet from him and watch as he made a small ball of amala, dip it in soup and swallow; licking each of his five fingers as the soup leaked out from his mouth to his already dirty shirt. Everyone in the class, all 20 of us would look at this man trying to telepathically borrow him shame seeing as he had none. His only soon Azeez was no different… he had somehow raised the child in his own image and likeness and all the kids at the top of the social pyramid, even the punks at the bottom who wore glasses bigger than their small faces picked on Azeez! He was not even at the bottom…he was under the ladder!!!

The hierarchy among kids at school was the big bad kids at the top, the sports kids, the academics, and the dorky kids at the bottom. There were those who existed somewhere in between and somehow managed not to be picked on; either by smartly being invisible, funny, related to someone at the top of the ladder or best of all having a parent/teacher at the school (no one touched those except Azeez of course).

I was a small and tiny kid; so thin the breeze from okada could blow me inside gutter sef! But I had will and gut. I understood real quick that the only way to beat the bullies was to fight the bullies…literally. That is what I did until they left not just me but my siblings alone at the school. There was another less violent way to settle quarrels or fights that involved WORDS… something I wasn’t very good at so I stuck to my fists. The battle of “you mess”. It was an age old tradition we used to settle fights between kids who were not evenly matched. A small crowd would gather, an unofficial referee would be selected and the two parties would stand face to face and trade words until a slew of blows were delivered to completely knock out the opponent. There was none so victorious in this form of war than Victory. She was small, stout and short with the mouth of the devil himself. She couldn’t hold her own in a fight (and smartly avoided every occasion to do so) but she sure as hell could take down the biggest of bullies with that razor blade tongue of hers!

One of our classmates, this big ass Dundee of a goat named Shina had been picking on Victory for months. Taking her food, copying her homework and class-works, sending her on errands, basically making her his bitch till the day Victory had enough and challenged him to an after school battle of  you mess.

I may not have liked Victory coz we had clashed so many times (she was jealous that I was one of the few girls on top of the pyramid not getting bullied) and I had been on the end of her daggered tongue but I disliked Shina even more. We almost never spoke but there was an underlying confidence that was on his shoulders from knowing he was toughened on the streets and no one could stand toe to toe with him in a fight. I was so happy, finally Shina was gonna get his!!! A small circle formed outside the school gates and Chidi the class clown acted as referee.

Victory: You mess Akpu fly gate

Shina: You mess Amoeba wear agbada

Victory: You mess gbomo gbomo leave class for you

Shina: You mess Amala turn yellow

Victory: You mess Dead body rise up shout Halleluya

Shina: You mess Harmattan catch peppersoup

Victory: You mess tears dry for Hilda Dokubo eyes

The whole crowd went wild….Victory has just landed a killa shot…

Shina: You mess stonecold grow dada

Victory: You mess beans turn to gbegiri

Shina: You mess soldier run comot for barracks

Victory: You mess your mama forget you for market

Victory: You mess your mama call you Sugar instead of Shina

Victory: You mess all the meat for pot turn to olokpo

Shina: you mess pastor start dey sing R.Kelly

Victory: You mess Blackky turn to Michael Jackson

The crowd was cheering for Victory now… she started walking around with a swagger, dropping one line into the crowd

Victory: You mess 419 carry bible

Victory: You mess all the mosquitos die

Victory: You mess NEPA take light

Victory: You mess eh! Chair wey you siddon break two legs

Victory: You mess all the fish for River Niger die

Victory: You mess hurricane change direction

And to round it up she got right into his face and spoke with a mocking sneer

You mess all the air hang for ceiling

You mess igbo man leave e shop start dey do evangelism

You mess Lamborghini turn beetle

At this point the big bad ass, Shina was in tears and the crowd was coming to lift Victory up

You mess Mrs. Agbo tell you… chai Shina its enuf go back to primary one olodo rakpata!!!

Victory had climbed on top, no one bothered her after that day but people still feared Shina and the might of his muscle…just not as much as we used to.