When i was still in Primary school, my mother who was teacher, made sure that i never strayed too far from our home. I had all sorts of activities to keep me busy; siestas, homework, home lessons, etc. I hated it. So anytime, she was not around, i played with my friends to my heart's content.

On this day, i had returned from school and she was yet to return from work. My friends invited me and my cousin, who lived with us then, to a game of mopo. It is sort of like tag but you become It if the ball touches you. If you are It, you have to try to hit the other players with the ball, at the same time, each player, holding batons and bats try to get the ball as far as possible away from you. it was an interesting game.

One of the rules of the game was that the player with the ball could not move from the spot where he or she picked the ball. Unfortunately for me that fateful day, the boy with the ball broke the rule and chased after me. I ran, trying to avoid being hit by the ball.

One of my neighbors had a stack of roofing sheets on his sewage tank and i, feeling as dexterous as a mountain goat, decided to jump over it, instead of running around it.

I jumped successfully and landed on the other side. I continued running until a friend screamed 'blood'. I looked down and behold my flesh was puckered like pouty lips below my left knee. I had felt nothing before but as soon as i saw the injury, the pain hit and i burst into tears. I was not crying because i was injured, i was crying because the injury had gotten me into trouble with my mom.

My mom came home to find me on the chair with my leg raised up and a roll of tissue paper seating on it like a cap. She didn't scold me that day,neither did my father but the tetanus injection was enough to clear my head. I still have the scar of that injury below my knee till date. That is my scar story.