A glimmer in the dust

Sunday dawned with the quiet reverence that always accompanied it in Ken's community. It was a day steeped in tradition; one reserved for church and family.

The Okafor family, like many others in Elepe made their way to St. Mary's Catholic Church, a modest yet beloved place of worship.

Its whitewashed walls and simple stained-glass windows gave it a humble beauty. Inside, the atmosphere was solemn but warm, the pews filled with familiar faces united in faith.

After the service, the family returned home. Though the sermon had spoken of grace and redemption, Ken couldn't shake the heaviness in his chest.

The events of the previous days; his father's fury, the violent end of the football match, the destruction of his football dreams, they all still clung to him like a suffocating blanket, making him breathless.

He tried to distract himself with a book in the living room, but his mind kept drifting.

Then came a knock at the door. Firm and deliberate.

"Knock knock knock," followed by a voice with a strong Igbo accent. "Is anyone at home?"

Ken's heart skipped. He knew that voice. It was Coach John-Bosco.

He jumped to his feet and swung the door open "Coach John-Bosco! How did you find my house?"

The coach smiled, his eyes glinting with quiet determination. "I have my ways, Ken. May I come in?"

Ken nodded quickly and stepped inside. The coach entered behind him, carrying a small bag with him.

"I came to give you something," he said, reaching into the bag. He pulled out a gold medal and two gleaming trophies.

Ken stared at the items, his eyes widening.

"This is your medal for the final win," Coach John-Bosco said. "And these are for Best Player and Highest Goal Scorer".

"But… how did you manage to get these after the fight?" Ken asked, stunned at the sight of the 2 trophies.

Coach John-Bosco nodded solemnly. "Yes, it was chaotic. But the officials ensured the rightful winners got their accolades. These belong to you".

Pride swelled in Ken's chest as he took the awards, but the joy was short-lived. "Thank you Coach… but this might be the last time you see me on a football field".

The coach's smile faltered. "What do you mean?"

Ken explained everything; from the whipping, to the destruction of his gear, then to the finality of his father's decision.

Coach John-Bosco listened in silence, his brows drawn together in concern.

When Ken finished, he stood up. "Let me speak to your father".

Ken hesitated, clearly apprehensive but eventually, he nodded. "He's in the backyard".

The two of them walked out back. Getting there, Ken's heart pounded in his chest. His father looked up as they approached, his expression immediately hardening.

"You," he said coldly. "Why are you here? What do you want from my son?"

Coach John-Bosco didn't flinch. "Good afternoon, sir," he said in a calm, respectful tone. "I'm here because your son is an exceptional talent. He's the best player I've coached. He has a future in football".

The older man folded his arms. "Football? What future? I want my son to become a doctor, not waste his life chasing a ball".

"With all due respect, sir," the coach replied steadily. "Ken has a gift. He has the potential to make his family and community proud".

"And what happens if he gets injured? Can you guarantee that he'll make it in the cutthroat world of football? What if he fails? Will you be there to fix his life?" Ken's father snapped.

"I understand your fears, sir…"

"No, you don't!"

Coach John-Bosco was calm, waiting for the man to calm down before he continued in a measured tone. "Sir, I understand your fears, but every career has its risks. What matters is that Ken is passionate and committed".

"At the very least, he deserves a chance".

"My decision is final," the man said curtly. "No more football. He'll focus on his studies".

"Please, just consider…" the coach began.

"No," came the stern interruption. "This discussion is over".

And just like that, Ken's fate was sealed for the second time.

Coach John-Bosco turned to Ken, regret etched across his face. "I'm sorry, Ken. I tried".

Ken gave a small node. "Thank you for everything, coach".

As the coach left, a bleak wave of hopelessness washed over Ken. His dreams had never felt further away.

…

Months passed.

Ken buried his football dreams beneath stacks of textbooks and the unrelenting pressure of expectations. He prepared for the JAMB exam, hoping a good result might restore some of his father's approval.

But when the scores were released, he had failed.

It was a devastating blow.

Determined not to let him fall behind, his father used a connection to secure him admission to the Delta State University, Abraka to study Biochemistry. It wasn't the future Ken wanted, but it was a future; one that wouldn't disappoint his family.

When the time came to leave, Ken stood in front of his girlfriend, Precious. Tears streamed down her face.

"I'll miss you, Ken," she whispered.

"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice quiet. "But I have to go. It's what my dad wants. I won't forget you". He smiled at her reassuringly.

The bus ride to Delta State was long and uncomfortable.

The campus, when he arrived felt like a different world; vast, noisy, and alien. He struggled to adjust. The lectures were tough, the science heavy. And worst of all, he felt nothing for the subject he was meant to study.

Then one afternoon, as he wandered off-campus in a haze of frustration, a familiar sound caught his ear; the rhythmic thump of a football.

Drawn by instinct, he followed the sound and found a group of boys playing a four-a-side match on a dusty lot. The monkey posts- makeshift goalposts made from tires marked the field. The sight stirred something in him.

"Wanna play?" One of the boys called out.

Osy didn't hesitate. "Of course".

He slipped off his slippers and joined in, barefoot.

But he was rusty. His team quickly conceded four goals. His touch was off, his instincts dulled.

The opposing team jeered.

"You guys are so bad. Why are we even playing with kids?" One of them mocked, laughing.

Ken's pride flared.

"We're kids, yeah? Okay. How about a bet? Restart the game. Twenty thousand naira on the line. Are you in?"

The other boy blinked, then smirked. "You? This kid? You wanna challenge us?"

"Let's trash them," another laughed.

The challenge was accepted.

The stage was set.

The dust would fly, and Ken's fire; buried under months of suppression was about to ignite.