How I Became A Fighting champion

 

I am not a fighter, I have never been, I am not even sure I know how to fight. Have I been  in fights. Sure! But a few with the same set of people. My aim is to elucidate to you my history with fighting.

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#UgoTalksAlot Vs. The Sister of #UgoTalksAlot

Sibling rivalry is probably where I began my training as a fighting flop (I mean champion). My sister and I were almost always in fights at early ages. The age difference of 1 1/2 years clearly was not helping me implement my policies properly especially as pertaining to who got what toys and the DSTV Remote. So bad were our fights and arguements that we went to bathe with the remote, dido for the toilet. So every now and then I would resort to continuing my policy implementation by other means. A slap here, shouting there. That kind of thing. So one day in the process of continuing my policy by other means I stepped out of the house to get something (I can’t quite remember what it was) then I heard the door slam behind me and the key churning. My sister had locked me out of the house. Even worse there was light! She would find where I hid the remote!

 

 Lesson One learnt; Women fight Dirty!

 

#UgoTalksAlot Vs. Faith. 

There was this girl in our compound named Faith. We were sought of frenemies. We would argue over so many trivial things like what games to play and where to play them and every now and then it would degenerate to physical confrontation. For some reason I never won. Faith would always hit below the belt and that usually ended the fights. But whenever we would fight again I would come back with renewed ginger and still have my ass flogged by Faith.

 

Lesson Two Learnt: Don’t fight at all!

 

#UgoTalksAlot Vs. #UgoTalksAlot’s Best Friend

To be clear, I have two best friends a boy and a girl. I obviously didn’t fight with the girl because that would be ungentlemanly (As if I were a gentle man on a normal day). 

 

In my secondary school we had Hostel inspection every Saturday morning that meant every Friday night was cleaning. When you consider that we had seniors you would know that the cleaning was as bad as hell. We would scrub the concrete floors inside and outside the dormitory rooms. Toilets and everything would be washed so if you didn’t use the toilet before the scrubbing wait till after inspection the next day.

 

It was one of those Friday nights that I and my best friend had a brief physical altercation. I can remember that fight well cause it was my last. I was in Js2 at the time.  We struggled for about 2 seconds then I felt a leg, sweeping across the floor, taking me off my feet and the next thing I can remember is feeling my Maximm gluteus and  my ancon landing against the cold wet concrete floor. I stood up and mumbled something as I went to my bed. About 5 to 10 minutes later my friends dormitory would be awash with panic as my friend had just had an asthma attack. An no I didn’t feel good. But now that I think about it…

Lesson Three Learnt: When will you ever learn lesson two!

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