Confessions of Don Black

Chapter 8 - Bullying

"Hey, you."

I heard a loud voice coming towards my direction. I looked at the direction where it emanated from, and then I looked around and then turned to my clan.

"Yes, you, who else," he said.

I stayed quiet and calm. He was a red-haired chubby white guy with red eyebrows.

"Kaffir," he said.

Nobody ever called me that before. We were in the sporting fields after a rugby training session one afternoon after school.

"Wow," some students said.

Some students went about their business while others and a couple of giggling girls positioned themselves closer to witnes first-hand what was about to go down. I developed a passive-aggressive habit. In a confrontation, I showed no emotion, and that offended many people. I realized that many times bullies test the waters by a mere provocation then wait for an exchange as an excuse to start a fight. I was at the stage in my life where I could take any blow. I could not make sense of what the word "kaffir" meant, though judging by the reaction of fellow students and the way he said it, it showed that he was mean.

He threw a sweet on the ground.

"Come pick this up," he said.

By the look of things, he planned to make me eat it. I had embraced insults before; I had swallowed bitter pills than an average guy; I had endured far worse bullying back in the days.

"Are you deaf," he said.

(Whistling) The crowd made all sorts of noises. They expected us to exchange blows. The bully picked up encouragement from the whistling crowd, and then he furiously approached and attempted to hit me with a tennis racket. Two of my entourage flung in front of me; they caught the racket and threw it far. Trinity lifted him up by the collar.

"You stop this bullshit of yours now," Trinity said.

He was beginning to turn red face.

"Do you hear me," Trinity said.

He nodded. Trinity dropped him on the grass; he fell like an idiot he was.

"Scumbag," Trinity said, "You leave him alone."

(Shouting) The crowd screamed and booed him. He was defeated. He could not believe that a white guy, one of his kind, stood up in my defense. We were a united clan. He left with his tail in his ass. His entourage followed him murmuring to themselves.

"Sell out," one of them said.

"Kaffirmonger," another of his team said.

His group expected my entourage to bail out on me.

"You should try rugby next time," Angelo said.

"Tennis is for little girls," Trinity said.

"Black lover," the bully said.

#

That afternoon I swallowed the incident by watching movies. I knew the word was derogatory to black people though I did not know the exact meaning thereof.

"What does kaffir mean?" I asked my guardian over dinner.

"Son," he said.

Why does he call me son?

"You don't need to know the meaning of that word," he continued, "besides, it's not a nice thing to say to people either."

"What does it mean?" I asked," I need to know why so I don't use it."