There was one time in secondary school that my shoe somehow fell off and one of the boys in my year started trying to kick it away. Bearing in mind the fact that I grew up with two brothers – I responded in a way that felt natural – I pushed the guy away (I would generally push people (back) in my early school days until people started calling me “muscle man Kemi” and I sussed that maybe I should stop and say “ow” like all the other girls). I slipped my shoe back on and kept walking – and whilst I walked, he pushed me into a window. From that point onward, every time he saw me he’d try to push me into the whatever was the nearest object or wall (I was always on alert), and he’d generally just try to get to me (along with many other girls in the school) by calling me childish names. It got so bad that one day a group of us banded together and wrote letters to the teachers explaining why we thought he deserved to be expelled, and although we all chickened out when it came to actually submitting this, the day eventually came where he was expelled and we didn’t see him again.