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Unanijua Kweli ?

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“Wewe unanijua kweli?” He roared at me whilst pointing his stubby fingers at my chest. He made as if to charge at me but I knew he wouldn’t. Not with the other guys present to stop him. He wasn’t certain though, so his first charge was slow, timed and designed to put him at a safe distance from me physically. Safe enough to let him keep threatening violence while letting him maintain the ‘Alpha mode’ he’d chosen to potray.

I stared at him … no, not stared, I glowered at him and that probably made him reconsider his fighting decision. You see, I am a good foot taller than he is and what was going through my mind was a few weird ways I could’ve replied to his obviously rhetorical if not nonsensical question.

I also considered slapping him like a parent would a child. To assert how dominant my stature let me be. To remind him a physical fight was not something he could do with me as I was above him, not just physically. No, but also athletically. A single slap running south, from his forehead to his chin ought to have done the trick. I however considered his stature among the ‘boys’. His already huge ego swollen like an ugly boil just waiting to explode. So I let it slide… yes … I backed down from a fight I could’ve easily won because I considered a single slap could’ve done him more damage than the respect I wanted individually from him.

So I let it slide. For now.

But tell me, how many times has someone done you wrong. So wrong and when you sought retribution they fearlessly asked you.

Unanijua Kweli?

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