Junior High – 3rd year

I was doing pretty well in school and after I made my transition from JSS2 to JSS3 I said goodbye to those dreaded grey hot pants I sported for 2years – I went all out on baggy ‘Bermuda’ shorts (roomy for the crotch and 2 inches below the knee, yeah baby!). I wasn’t part of the Stingray generation and I ‘misplaced’ my US army bag, although with hindsight I wish I had auctioned it today on eBAY… shame. I was carrying leather (and sometimes plastic) folders which seemed cooler (Cool guys didn’t walk around, like hunchbacks, carrying tons of textbooks). The only problem was that I risked getting punished for not bringing some of those humongous textbooks to class (so on those fateful days I’d wear my baggy shorts with some newspaper padding inside my boxers to reduce the ‘koboko’/cane impact) – the sacrifice of trying to be cool, eh?

Prices of snacks and drinks went up steadily but fortunately, so did my pocket money. I recall those trips to ‘Uncle Tony’s’ kiosk where he sold these dodgy-looking (but surprisingly tasty) hamburgers (mmmm…) and next door to him was the meatpie lady whose pies seemed to be getting smaller but more expensive each year. On days when I wanted to flex/pose/show off/act up/broadcast, I would mosey on down to ‘Mama Nike’ and get some deliciously marinated peppered chicken. The truth was you ended up enjoying the bone more because there was hardly any flesh on it in the first place, yet the cost of 1 piece of her chicken was equivalent to buying about 4 meatpies. So when you asked a girl to join you for lunch you always secretly hoped that she would not opt for the rip-off chicken – otherwise, no lunch for you that week (or you risked being known as a ‘Percher’: Someone who walks around during breaktime trying to get a cut out of people’s meatpies going, ‘Abeg, make I cut?’)

Physically I had changed tremendously. It was not just the bounce in my step (It took months to perfect this without making my butt stick out) but my voice was deeper, I was taller (for an average 13yr old of course), and I was growing unwanted hair in the strangest places…Anyway, that was the least of my problems. I was more concerned about the sour relationship that I had trapped myself in – not with any girl in my school…with my pimples.

Anytime I had started making some progress whilst ‘toasting’/chatting up a fine girl, days later a bloody ripe pimple would spring up on my face and steal the spot-light (no pun intended). If that wasn’t bad enough my pimples, unlike other boys’ pimples, would appear on ridiculously annoying areas – I’ve had one on the centre of my chin, the centre of my forehead (no offence to Indians), by either side of my lips (I said ‘side’ not ‘on’!), etc. The worst-placed pimple was the stubborn one I had bang-in-the-middle of my already broad flat nose – It was like looking at a ripe cherry on a dark chocolate ice-cream sundae…without being the least bit appetizing.

One of my many battles in school was therefore to find an immediate cure for these grotesque skin protrusions. I tried everything: toothpaste, squeezing, pricking, but what worked best for me was Mentholatum/any medicated balm the night before. You’ll know it has worked when the girl you’re chatting with tells you (after staring at your nose throughout your conversation) that you need to wipe ‘something’ off your nose – see! My pimple was working against me as usual.

Other battles I encountered were the Popularity contests. It seemed a big deal to get your name into the school magazine or the yearbook with some cool accolade; ‘Cutest junior boy’ (I wish), Best dressed junior boy (not being sore but I was robbed), etc. I was just known amongst my JSS3 set as the one who talked to the most girls, including girls in the set above me (SS1), thanks to my cousin in that set. I had ‘Haters’ in my set who couldn’t understand how I would sometimes be invited to parties hosted by SS1. Those Haters must have hated me even more when my cousin and I partook in one of the school’s variety shows and danced our way to fame as The Hype Boys (my ‘school fathers’/choreographers/mentors were the Too Hype Boys for obvious reasons). I became a (little) celebrity overnight and it boosted my rep just a little bit 😀

Only one thing stood between me and Senior status – my JSCE exam. To me that meant either repeat wearing Shorts another year or proudly walk in Trousers. .The pressure was now on!

 

..xTx..

Junior High – 2nd year…

I.S.I (International School, Ibadan) was where I first learnt how someone could be under constant pressure…just about every single day of his/her secondary school life. And I’m not talking about pressure to excel above the pass mark (which, then, was about 40% in all subjects)…no, I’m talking about the pressure to be cool, ‘bam’, ‘hard’…if you were linked to any of these accolades back in the day then your ‘rep’ was off to a good start…supposedly.

 

Now the problem I had was that I didn’t fit the bill particularly. I had a small tennis-ball afro which wasn’t cool enough, overly smart shoes which weren’t ‘bam’ enough, and a group of friends I rolled with who were not ‘hard’ enough. As a ‘day’ student (i.e. a student who doesn’t reside in the school’s hostels during the term) I was already screwed because the ‘boarders’ (those students who do reside in the school’s hostels…) were automatically catapulted into ‘hard’ status. I don’t think I’ll ever know why.

 

Maybe it was because you’d see one guy wear a different pair of ‘pumps’, moccasins and Tims for 2 straight weeks – I was baffled! How could one kid have close to 14 pairs of shoes? But I soon learnt that boarders had a sharing culture – they exchanged just about everything. So of course you could seem to have so many clothes, shoes, schoolbags…oh my God…I just remember I had a hideous schoolbag.

 

It was called a ‘U.S army bag’ – Trust me, it didn’t look as cool as it sounded. It was the size and shape of a 14-inch box TV – perfect for those tons of textbooks which I carried but would hardly have to read. Mine was black with all the different colorful badge prints and miniature flag images. It even had an ID number, yet I didn’t feel anything close to being a boy scout. Instead, as I walked around the school grounds with the crushing weight of my backpack I felt like Quasimodo – the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

 

My cousin (the eldest of the three, who was in JSS3 at the time) used to make fun of me – at home and at school. We didn’t quite get on initially but during my stay at his mum’s place I started trying to emulate his style as much as I could. He was like the big brother I never had. He would help guide me through this transition from Pee Wee Herman to ‘Cool’, from Inspector Clousseau to ‘Bam’, and from N-Sync to ‘Hard’. First stop – the barbershop.

 

My cuz and I went to the local barbershop and said hello to the natives. I was corrected abruptly. Hello = Not cool. Hi = cool. What’s up = cool. How far! = Razz but way better than Hello. Anyway, I got into my chair and looked up at the charts to see what was on the menu. Skinned (Oh, HELL no!), Bobby Brown slant (not brave enough), The Punk (hmm, now there’s an idea!) It was a kind of square-cut with a puffed top (View pic: Kadeem Hardison a.k.a \’Dwayne Wayne\’ in teen comedy, \’A Different World\’ ). It was one of those I-love-my-mama-but-she-don’t-tell-ME-what-to-do haircuts. It commanded respect. I loved it. I got my first pair of Reebok pumps too. I even started wearing cologne (with a cologne-drenched handkerchief in my top pocket just for good measure).

 

I was ready to re-enter I.S.I with new a found sense of courage. At break time it was ‘cool’ to be seen having lunch with a (pretty) girl. After managing to save up a decent amount of pocket money I asked a girl to lunch, she agreed, and we took a pleasant stroll to the kiosks to get our soft-drinks and snacks. As I sat on a ledge with her I was excited because I could feel eyes on me…not hers, my peers. They were filled with awe and probably a little jealousy. I savoured this moment. But mid-way through my conversation I felt like either I had coughed up a fur ball or Barry White’s ghost was trying to use me as a medium to convey a message. Perfect! Just as I was trying to break my way into the ‘In-crowd’ my voice decided to break its way into Puberty.    

 

..xTx..

Lights, Camera, Action!

When it came to Action heroes, one name lay imbedded in my memory as a teen – ARNOLD SWARCHZENEGGER. In the Eighties when ignorance was bliss, I believed that he and all the subsequent action heroes were not ‘acting’ so to speak. With biceps the size of lunchboxes it wasn’t hard to believe then that he could floor five guys with his brute strength alone. His groundbreaking debut, COMMANDO, was simplistic in its plot and concise with dialogue – As a matter of fact, I remember a good half hour of non-stop pulsating gunfire mayhem amidst the rescue of his non-Russian-sounding daughter. After endless rewinding, re-playing, pausing and fast forwarding I was hungry for more…I needed a lot more.

SYLVESTER STALLONE was the immediate antidote I discovered after immersing myself in FIRST BLOOD. The trademark 1 minute-long dress-up sequence in which John Rambo geared up was just an adrenaline booster. I never thought it possible for one man to pack just the right amount of ammo to annihilate an entire platoon. A few bullet wounds and 2 sequels later the thirst returned and I needed it to be quenched pronto.

BRUCE WILLIS didnt have the muscles of Arnie or Stallone but he sure knew how to handle a group of terrorists in DIE HARD. Everything about the plot seemed believe and not too far-fetched. Yes its possible for a cop to go on vacation to see his wife (or ex-wife), Yes its possible for him to arrive at his wife’s fully serviced skyscraper on the exact day the terrorists plan to strike, Yes it is possible for him to hear gunshots just when he’s in the middle of changing clothes,  and yes it is possible for a trigger-happy cop to run around barefoot finding a way to get FBI back up. Bruce Willis seemed like the average cool-headed guy who showed real fear amidst danger unlike the mucho predecessors with faceless expressions. Bruce had the wit to back him up too! 3 catastrophic explosions and 1 sequel later I was ready for a stronger dose.

JACKIE CHAN taught me that one didnt need semi-automatics or AK-47s to ‘blow you away’. Just a lil’ martial art mixed with death-defying stunts and a few funny blunders gave me all the excitement I needed. Hand-to-hand combat never looked so good until I watched POLICE STORY and RUMBLE IN THE BRONX. Everything about he’s fight sequence was real – no stuntman required. If he was trapped btw 2 walls 8ft high then he was going get out with a ‘Prince-of-Persia style’ wall-to-wall leap, just in time to narrowly miss the high-speed van crashing beneath him. Once I found this new taste for martial arts, I slowly weaned myself off the guns and C-4s. It was a new era for dropkicks, roundhouse kicks and clothes-lines.

STEVEN SEAGAL eventually brought an end to all that when he took the fun out of martial arts and made it a split-second ordeal of ultra fast ‘ten-ten’ before breaking his adversary’s arm…backwards. When he decided to get a lil creative he moved on to breaking legs, necks, hands, and then he went into detail when he plucked a few eyes, broke fingers, and ankles. I was more queezy than entertained and I began to ask myself if I was slowly becoming side-tracked. Yes, Seagal was giving me an overdose of whoop-ass but my hands weren’t clapping…they were covering my eyes. Time was against me and I was getting older and older. In a time when WWF was discovered to be a farce I needed a lift, a hit of something strong, but not overkill…cue the dragon!

Or should I say ENTER THE DRAGON. When I first saw BRUCE LEE in action I was mesmerized to say the least. I think it wasnt so much the Kung-fu but the ‘wooh-haw!’ and ‘wataah!’ cries he bellowed through his lightning punches & kicks – He had me glued to the seat and to the screen (and that was responsible for bloodshut eyes & dented sofas). His untimely death is an infinite blow to the action movie industry and till this day he remains an icon.

In my opinion, these are some of the founders who’ve paved the way for the new generation of action movies…and ultimately transformed me into an Action Junkie.

My Top 10 Action Movies

1.  Die Hard
2.  The Matrix
3.  Game of Death
4.  True Lies
5.  T2
6.  House of Flying Daggers
7.  Casino Royale
8.  Kill Bill
9.  Rush hour
10.John Rambo
My Top 5 Action Heroes

1. Arnold Schwarzenegger
2. Jackie Chan
3. Bruce Lee
4. Sylvester Stallone
5. Bruce Willis

My Dream Face-Offs

1.  Arnie vs Stallone – Punch up
2.  Bruce Lee vs Jackie Chan – Martial Arts
3.  Keanu Reeves (Matrix) vs Christian Bale (Equilibrium) – Gunfight…in ‘slo-mo’
4.  Uma Thurman vs Michelle Yeoh – Ninja Swordfight
5. Angelina Jolie vs Sigourney Weaver – Chickfight
6. Bruce Willis vs Chris Tucker – Witfight
7. ALIEN vs Predator (IV) – SCI-FIght (lol)
Accolades

*Quick to the rescue – 007
*Relentless to the finish – Rambo
*No-funny business – Arnie
*A woman scorned – Uma Thurman (Kill Bill)