aside The Man that taught me how to Peel the Banana

Dear esteemed readers, before I set out on this awkward and difficult task to thank an old buddy of mine (let us call him Dick). It would only be fair to give you a brief background of the circumstances that led to a fellow man educating me on how to hold the sausage hostage.

I was never really an outgoing person back in my school days. I was one of the quiet boys, self-dependent and really just there to get my education over and done with. My close friends at school were mostly ‘day scholars’, I on the other hand was a boarder. Those of you that have had the privilege of learning at a REAL Malawian boys-only boarding school, will appreciate the struggles of being an under-age, fluent-English speaking ‘bongwe’. Put simply, I had a big fat target on my head written ‘tease me’. I guess that’s what you get for not going all the way to standard 8. Yep, ndilibe certificate yomalizira primary.

Za enanu sitinganeneretu, koma ife pa form 1, zamabebi sizinkatikhuza kweni-kweni. The only boners that I would get were those ‘morning glories’ that usually deflated with a routine urination. Unfortunately the older boys were just starting to metamorphose into young adults. Technology was on the low at that time, so kunalibe tima readily available sex vids ngati zama siku ano zapa whatsapp group. These were the days when magazines had real value. To be honest, any sexual art would do for these kids. Some good Samaritans would sometimes offer their services to sketch abstract images of vaginas and tits in the bathrooms to stimulate imaginations and facilitate occasional sessions of ‘snake shaking’. I wonder if those lads are still using their skills for good though. We can only hope so.

Back to me; a bright form one chap surrounded by sexually energetic monkeys of the same sex. The true definition of a sausage fest. It was only a matter of time before one of the bigger monkeys would want to teach the little chap a thing or two about girls and ‘self-relief’. Less than 5 weeks into the term, some prefects called me out of the 7-9 pm study session (Prep). My audience was required by Dick, the vice head-boy. This guy anali one of those older boys at school, wopasidwa udindu chifukwa chokhalitsa pa sukulu. An honorary prefect if I may say. So there I was, head boy, 2 of his soldiers and a look-out standing outside the dome. Whatever was about to happen tonight was not going to be pretty. I can’t remember what was going through my head at the time. Kuthawa was not an option and kulira would have just aroused the bastards – Or so I thought.


”Mfana’! Ndamva kuti ukumabunyula kwambiri ku ma bafa”. Spoke the vice. I honestly did not know where these allegations were coming from. I didn’t even know what ‘kubunyula’ meant at the time. Being the naïve boy that I was, nane ndinafunsa “kodi kubunyula ndikutani?” The room burst into laughter. I could tell that the young-men in the room had found something exciting to do for the night, other than prepare for their midterm exams.

Before I knew it, things had started to get real. Dick instructed one of his troops to assist him with unzipping his jeans. I could not quite figure out what was about to happen. He told me to also unzip. I was no expert in bro culture but one thing was for sure, mama told me to never present little johnny in public. My morality meter had quickly hit high alert.


Dear reader, do not be worried. I am not about to tell you about the day that I got molested at boarding school. My rectum is fully intact thank you.


Dick unburdens his pants. I am given strict orders to follow every instruction. (Note to reader – there was no cross dick touching during this tutorial. Neither was I touched inappropriately or appropriately. All machinery was self-handled).

At first I was tense, scared in fact. I was still confused and baffled by the events that had begun to unfold in the dorm. The Vice (probably a sex instructor by now), told me to relax and to keep rubbing my pecker until it got hard. NOT an easy task at my age by the way. He was even kind enough as to demonstrate the right blend of strokes and rubs required (again! On his own machinery).

It must have taken me at-least 5-10 minutes of discomfort to get Johnny up and running. I think the torn out page from that porn magazine must have helped (forgot to mention that). We were now ready for phase 2! It was time to learn about how to ‘shine the helmet’. Details withheld due to Pabwalo policy on vivid details.

I walked into the dorm a lost soul but came out saved. I had been brought into the light. How could this be? Could it really be true? Had I been sitting on such pleasure all this time? And all I needed to do was Play pocket pool?

I sense a little judgement here. Yes. The circumstances of my discovery were not ideal. I apologize for not having female cousins at home to explore sexuality with during my younger years. Amapeleka mosiyana! All I had was Dick, a selfless elder willing to ‘walk me’ through the path of manhood. If anything, blame my parents for sending me to a mission boys-only boarding school. Let us not forget that I am the victim here. I and the millions of sperms that never got a real fighting chance.

This is a tribute to Dick. The man that taught me how to Peel the banana. I finally got laid about 3 years later. She was a prostitute. I still ‘Grease the pipe’ occasionally, but I have a fairly healthy sex life.

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