The Catholic Church grounds in Zanzibar were
the focal point of our early development while we were growing up into adults. It was our playground of choice and it was the
location where plans, serious and not so serious, were made. It was also where as growing individuals we
gave vent to our infantile and immature instincts and fights were not
uncommon. Sometimes, the fights were
with the Mission boys who were generally
resident African boys who lived in and around the Church grounds.
My brother Eustace somehow had it in him to
pick on one particular harmless Goan boy called Joseph. Eustace had an unexplained compulsion to kick Joseph
in the butt whenever he saw him and that for no apparent reason. He was a classical example of an incorrigible
bully. Poor Joseph took the kicking in
painful silence and never hit back hoping that his patience would pay off. In
retrospect, I can now see Joseph developing into a very sad and unhappy lonely
boy with an absolutely low self image.
One particular warm afternoon, the boys were
planning something that was really unimportant, on the other side of the stone
fence when voice was heard from this side of the fence:
“Who is that
intelligent, strong and kind boy called Eustace?”
Eustace’s ears stood
up like that of a rabbit on alert.
Surely, this was not the Eustace that he knew.
“I would like to
shake Eustace’s hand and give him something nice,” insisted the voice.
This was too much
for Eustace. He jumped up on the fence
and saw a middle-aged man standing there with a smile from ear to ear.
“Are you Eustace?”
asked the man.
“Yes!” shouted
Eustace hoping that nobody else would steal his identity at this history making
moment.
“Come here, my
son, I would like to give you something,” the man stressed.
Eustace jumped off
the fence expecting to receive some kind of reward, and so he approached the
man. No sooner had he got close enough,
the man grabbed him by the arm like a rattle-snake attacks his prey.
“Do you know who I
am?” asked the irate man.
“I am Joseph’s
father and I am here to give you a taste of your own medicine.”
Eustace knew that
he was in trouble. He tried to tear
away, but the man’s grip was far too tight.
Joseph’s father
swung Eustace around and gave him a couple of hard kicks on the butt which all
his friends thought he deserved, but would not offer any comment.
“You ever touch
Joseph again, there will be a lot more of this,” he shouted, adding a couple of
slaps across Eustace’s face.
He then released
Eustace who evaporated from the scene in a flash.
Joseph’s quality
of life must have been enhanced a hundred fold after this incident and Eustace,
in order to save face among his loyal followers declared:
“He may have
kicked me, but it never hurt.”
The red marks on
his behind told a different story.
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