Chapter 2: Streets of Lagos

The sun burned high over Lagos, casting long shadows over the busy streets. In Mushin, life was fast, unforgiving. If you weren't strong, the city swallowed you whole.

David Afolabi weaved through the narrow alleys, sidestepping puddles from last night's rain. He clutched a nylon bag containing two loaves of bread—his mother had sent him back after forgetting the first time. The familiar sounds of Lagos filled the air: the sharp cries of hawkers, the distant hum of generators, and the occasional blaring of danfo buses packed with impatient passengers.

As he turned a corner, a group of boys blocked his path. He recognized them immediately—older kids from another part of the neighborhood. Their leader, Taju, was a tall, lanky boy with a permanent scowl.

"You think say you be star, abi?" Taju sneered, stepping forward.

David frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Taju said, poking David's chest. "Everywhere I go, na your name dem dey call. 'David this, David that.' You dey use jazz?"

David sighed. He had dealt with this before. People always assumed his skill came from something other than hard work. They couldn't understand how he just… adapted.

"I don't have time for this," David said, stepping to the side.

Taju grabbed his shoulder. "Where you dey go?"

David's grip on the bread tightened. "Home."

"And you no go even beg for passage?" Taju smirked, stretching out his hand.

David knew what that meant—"settle us or we make trouble." He glanced around. People saw what was happening, but nobody interfered. That was Lagos.

He exhaled. "Taju, I don't want problems."

Taju grinned. "Then drop something."

David hesitated, but before he could respond, a deep voice cut through the tension.

"David, let's go."

Everyone turned. It was Uncle Kunle, the coach of a local youth team. He was a man in his forties, built like an ex-athlete, his sharp eyes scanning the group.

Taju clicked his tongue, stepping back. "You get luck today."

David didn't say a word. He just walked past, following Kunle.

***

They reached a small football field, half-covered in patches of grass and littered with worn-out cones. Some kids were already training.

"You handled that well," Kunle said, watching as David put the bread down.

"I didn't do anything."

"Exactly. Sometimes, not reacting is the best response."

David looked at him. "Did you need me for something?"

Kunle smiled. "I didn't lie back there. I really did come to see you. There's someone interested in you. A scout."

David's heart skipped. "A scout?"

"Yes. He saw you play the other day and asked about you. He thinks you have something special."

David clenched his fists. Was this it? The opportunity he had always dreamed of?

"But before that," Kunle continued, "you need to prove you're serious. No shortcuts, no easy way out. Just hard work."

David nodded without hesitation. "I'm ready."

Kunle studied him for a moment before tossing a ball his way. "Good. Training starts now."

David caught it with his foot, a fire burning in his eyes. This was just the beginning.