Bullying is a natural as people are, and few might go through a day without one form of bullying. In this article, Ayub Chege recounts his own bullying and the spirited fight to beat it.

A comrade at college liked to bully all with his claims of being an hardened cannabis smoker. And for that, he had had many coerced to the point of abject denial. He, being a “xerox” from the year before ours, had the benefit of knowing the tutors as well as the courses taken in the year. To crown it all, he had a face that appeared to have accumulated years of abuse and thus he had quickly earned the nickname “Stoneface” after one reference he had made to his ability to block out every form of reaction. And true to his words, his face had crevices that ran in striations like plaited ponytails. May be it was the severity of his face that kept some women mesmerised, but he had a way of immortalising them.

Self styled Stoneface was also the king of the chav. After one “boom,” he had made a runner and only resurfaced after a week with a “completely new” wardrobe. Whatever open air market he had graced must have been for toddlers as the new “Kate Moss Stoneface” arrived with small size baby designer hoodies whose sleeves did not extend beyond his elbows by much. And Stoneface’s navel became a public display below the tight fitting jumpers. The only credit to the wardrobe was the different array of colours, ranging from blight pink through different shades of red to white. Added to the attire were tight baby type tracksuit trousers that must have been giving Stoneface trouble putting them on.

Stoneface had been a terror to many, and most of the women had been reduced to nervous wrecks often running away like litter before gale. His trick had been simple. He had a gang that he had kept spellbound with occasional supplies of cannabis and daydreams of shares in an inexistent trading company. Each of his followers carried a business card that showed that Stoneface was the MD of the company reputed to own a chain of pubs across the country.

Our department shared two courses with Stoneface’s department, and it was almost certain that we were headed on a collision course. Either we would be welcomed into his fold or we could be excluded- something that was worse than being excommunicated from a traditional faith.

In order to avoid the exclusion from Stoneface’s gang, smoking cannabis had to be a regular pass time. For a non-smoker me, that was cause for instant intimidation. Add to that the weekender partaking of the local lethal brews that was eventually topped up with Tuskers for measure and I was a none starter in the “proof” for manhood. Still, my chances of pretended macho man could not have survived as my baby sister was a fellow student and so could have told the true version. Her presence had made me revise my Sunday School days and mould my character as befitted members of the CU who more often visited the hollowed “powerhouse” with a sub-agenda of leading the faithful choir beauties astray.

My appointed day with Stoneface arrived over a simple matter of attendance of an 8am lecture. He being the de facto leader had convinced members of his faculty that they could transfer it to a later hour. Unfortunately, that was to clash with another of our lectures, but Stoneface could not hear of our plight.

Our minority class of just four was seriously outnumbered by the other strong twenty even without Stoneface’s clout. But we were not about to be inconvenienced to please the others.

The raucous happened when we attended the lecture while the majority were still asleep. Stoneface was wasting for a fight, but we were saved as we were proceeding for another lecture. The fallout was delayed until midday when we were sharing another lecture- physical chemistry. Two groups stood apart, ours seriously outnumbered and out-muscled. Something told me to make peace, and so I crossed the line to the others. No one would meet my eye as I explained our plight.

At least I had tried.

Stoneface looked like Ahmadinejad, spoiling to fire salvos at me. The lab was so silent with tension that breathing sounded louder than aspirators.

‘I know where cyanide is kept, and I’m going to use it on somebody here,’ thundered Stoneface suddenly.

That was the most serious threat he had ever made. Even my fellow faculty mates sided away from me to avoid the bloodshed. I too, knew I was a gonna.

With nothing to loose, I left my chair and walked to where Stoneface was seated. I looked him straight into his eyes- eyeball to eyesore.

‘If you are man enough, go get it now and spoon-feed me. I’m hungry.’ I did not yell, but that was made for by clenched fist landing onto the bench.

You could nearly have heard the heartbeats of all present.

I survived gassing that day, and Stoneface and I became cold friends. I did try the cannabis but could not just be hooked. Neither did I take the lethal brews, nor joined his gang. Luckily, those days, men sorted their differences with fists and not knives.