Bullying: Mum and I- Part 2

During the peak of the media frenzy that accompanied the news of Sylvester Oromoni, the 12 year old boy that was allegedly bullied to death by his seniors at a secondary school in Lagos, Nigeria, I had written about bullying and how my mum had tackled this generational menace with me as a growing up child.

Reiterating one more time, she really did a great job, so read the old article below;

https://titipetral.com/bullying-mum-and-i/#more-1652

It’s worth noting that the public’s outrage towards the alleged individuals involved in the Sylvester Oromoni case seems to be fading with time. As the saying goes, “time heals all wounds.”

This, and similar cases, should serve as a wakeup call for us to recognize bullying as a pervasive issue that every parent should actively address. Bullying is an often overlooked problem that can swiftly disrupt a child’s life, leaving behind a trail of regrets filled with “what ifs” and “if only I had known.”

I’m grateful that my own mother recognized the gravity of bullying and was determined to shield me from its harm. She spared no effort in ensuring that bullying didn’t define my childhood.

On a regular basis, she would inquire about any incidents of mistreatment, both physical and verbal, that I may have encountered. Her vigilance extended to helping me overcome not only physical bullies but also those who engaged in verbal and emotional bullying.

However, two specific instances of verbal bullying stood out in my memory. Both of these bullies were my classmates during Senior Secondary School. Their names were Funmilayo Abogun and Kehinde Olawunmi, the names they bore since birth.

Interestingly, Kehinde, who used to mockingly compare my eyes to Bola Tinubu’s, is now a reasonable person and a friend on social media. Life takes funny turns sometimes.

Funmi, on the other hand, relentlessly berated my petite stature and age, considering that she was much older. We were in Senior Secondary 1, with me at 13 and her in her 20s. Their relentless taunting made life miserable, and initially, I hesitated to share my concerns with my mother. I felt I should be capable of handling these situations on my own, thinking I was mature enough.

Eventually, I broke down and confessed to my mom one weekend afternoon after doing my chores. As anticipated, my mother equipped me with the perfect clap-back response, which I proudly delivered to Funmi the next Monday, putting an end to her taunting. She eventually left the school to pursue a trade.

For the classmates who resorted to body-shaming, my mom taught me that no one is perfect, and it’s essential to recognize that every person has imperfections. She encouraged me to thoroughly assess them from head to toe, right down to their toenails, and find something about them that could be considered a “body deformity.” This exercise helped me understand that mean individuals often don’t respond to kindness but rather need to experience the harsh reality of their own actions.

Bullies aren’t born; they are often products of their environment. It’s safe to say that bullies raise children in their own likeness. Throughout my childhood, my mother was the reason I never felt like an only child. She took on the role of a sibling I never had, standing up against bullies and listening to my little concerns. There’s virtually nothing I don’t discuss with her, and she never underestimated any form of bullying, whether physical or verbal.

She embodies the ideal parent that others should strive to be.