I was always eager and the first in line for our karate exercises. We would start our lessons by standing in a straight line. Pinnie would firmly push us on our chests testing our strength. If you moved backwards this would ensure that you do ten push-ups again and again. Some of us would deliberately step backwards just to show-off our ability in doing the exercise. Running around the park until the perspiration dripped from my body was part of the routine. I liked the exercise, exaggerated my tiredness by breathing loudly to impress the others.
The best parts of my training were always left for last. The entire group would take turns in hitting the tree with the side of their hands, hoping that one day we all will be able to smash through a pile of bricks just like in the movies. I had the bigger dream of delivering that deadly blow against the tree stump and seeing it in cracking.
We would end off our karate training session with flying-kicks. This was the exercise I liked the most. I would run, kick the tree as high as possible with the bottom of my right foot, fall, roll over and jump up ready for another turn. Very often my mother would call-out for me to run to the shop, just when I was doing the flying-kicks. I would beg her, “mum just two more kicks.” She would laugh and say it’s okay. I always did more than two kicks but made sure I got to my mother in time, always asking “did you see my kicks ma, did you see my kicks!” “Yes, you were good. Now run to Mr Smith’s shop and buy the milk and bread”.
In the most unexpected way, we were all witness to what a flying kick could do. Walking home from the shop with my karate friends, I was stopped by Billy, the local bully. He had a bad reputation of interfering with smaller children, eating their school lunch and many times stealing their pocket money as well. I was one of the unluckiest children that fell prey to him. I had just bought the milk and bread for my mother when I was stopped.
As expected, Billy moved towards me the smallest boy in the group. I stood my ground, transfixed, not knowing what to expect. He grabbed the loaf of bread, broke off a piece and stuffed it into his mouth. I felt powerless against him as he was much bigger than me. I stood still watching him eat the bread. He laughed about it as he held his hand too, his mouth stuffing it down his throat whilst battling to swallow. Throughout this, he still had a smug smile on his face, staring at me defiantly.
Without any indication I ran, jumped in the air, and within a split second the bully turned trying to run away. The flying kick landed on his buttocks and he went sprawling on the ground with the sand over his face and clothes. He immediately turned around, sitting on his bum. He had a shocked look on his face, eyes as big as saucers, tears flowing down his cheeks. He held both hands above his head indicating, please stop.
Billy did not speak or attempt to walk away. He got up very slowly, as though he was doing an act in slow motion. All that moved was his eyes as he looked from left to right, right to left at all the people who had gathered around him. Dusting off his clothes, he lowered his head and started walking out of the circle of people.
My karate instructor looked at me in surprise. I had just given all my friends a real-life example of what a flying kick could do. For all of us this was a scene out of a Hollywood movie on the steps of our shopping centre.
I looked amongst the crowd for Billy. I shouted to him, “stop.” I stretched out my hand to shake his hand. I want to be your friend and you are welcome to join our Karate club. Billy’s eyes glowed in surprise as he griped my hand, shaking it gently in a sign of friendship. I just knew that Billy’s bullying days were over.
Read – Defenders of the Kingdom – A Short Story by Moses Tololo, Zambia
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