This is my first piece, critisisms are welcomed, plus don't mind the way i didn't use paragraphs ty


Chapter one

I was awoken by a loud shattering sound, and instantly i knew my sister had broken another plate. I threw a glance at the wall clock that hanged on the paint faded wall, 9am it said. I threw over mother's wrapper that i had converted to a blanket, and i made my way to the kitchen. Mother had a small stall in the market, and that exactly is where she would be afterall she'd make ends meet. She'd been the bread winner of the family ever since father lost his job. Mother put up with father's joblesness,but she developed a nagging attitude and she cannot be blamed afterall someone had to be responsible for the family's welfare. Father on the other hand did not relent, father would get up early, dress up casually then head for the newspaper stand located at the junction, and when you passby there, you'd see him rummaging through borrowed newspaper pages or he'll be arguing about the state of the nation, how the new government had affected several people, how he was retrentched along with five hundred other workers. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, i watched my sister go about clearing the mess on the floor and when finally she realized i was there, she freaked out "James please don't tell Mother" she said. I picked the nylon foil that contained the proken pieces of plate, looked her her then i said "there's a way to go about this certainly, but i will tell mother but i got your back". That been said, i headed out to trash the foil i picked up from the kitchen. One thing mother hated was lieing, you could be grounded for weeks coupled with several strokes of the pankere or the koboko. Mother had both, and that was one of the reasons i hated Kabiru, the northerner who had a small stall in the market square just beside mother's stall. Kabiru sold mainly pankere and koboko and they come in different sizes and shapes and no matter how many pankere i threw away, mother would always buy another from kabiru even on credit. Just of recent, mother added koboko to her amoury of different pankere sticks. The day she bought the koboko, i had gone to play football with my friends on a Saturday afternoon and i totally lost track of time. I was supposed to fetch water but i forgot and when i did make my way home i knew i was in hot soup but i braved up because i knew no matter what i did, i wouldn't escape the strokes of the pankere on my shirtless back. As soon as i made my way into the house, mother was waiting, father hadn't returned home yet and right on the table was the koboko. I sized it up and i felt because it was made of rubber it would be easy on my skin but i was tottaly wrong, because a swing of the koboko can be equal to five or six strokes of the pankere and only God knows how many swings hit my body that evening. I returned to the house, my sister was making breakfast. I knew she'd have resigned herself to fate. With mother, nobody knew what to expect, she was unpredictable. Father never beat us, no matter what we did he'd let mother do the beating and he'd do the talking. He'd say the same sermon all over again but ever since he lost his job, he had no time for any sermon because he'd be at the newspaper stand till noon and he'd surely be back reeking of cheap alcohol at night and on most occasions, he'd talk to no one in particular, the same naration about his job and how useless he felt with no job.I had a quick bath, it was a peacefull one because mother would ask if i just went into the bathroom to waste water if she was around. I wasn't a fan of taking too much time to wash up. I entered my room and i proceed to rub shea butter on my skin as that was what mother could afford. In no time, i was done dressing up and my sister served my breakfast, yam and pallm oil, i had no appetite but i was hungry because this was what we'd eating the whole week but i was choiceless and in time i chewed down the whole plate of yam, i really wished father would get a job sooner i really wanted things to go back to how it used to be when he had his job. We ate rice twice a week and i never had to use shea butter to rub my skin, he gave me pocket money every week and mother never nagged. I got out of the house and i headed for mother's stall in the market, i would need to avoid the koboko as long as i can, not even today even if i was gonna miss playing football with my friends at noon.

2

Like every other parents, my parents knew education was paramount and compulsory. and father would say that he would do anything to see us through school. But i felt school wasn't for me, i felt left out, i never liked the setting, i never liked the fact that i had to wake up every morning and rush to school like everyone else. I hated the fact that i had to stand at assemblies and listen to the principal talk and to crown it all, i wasn't a brilliant student. But everything in life has pros and cons. School was the only place i could play football without getting in Mother's koboko books and that was the only thing i liked about school. I checked my wrist watch and time said seven thirty, so i quickened my steps, principal Pat was a no nonsense man and woud not tolerate late coming even if it was the last day of the school term.I walked into my class, and almost nobody said hi to me, and even when i greeted a few they'd just answer for the sake. No one is to blame, i was like the unpopular kid in my class afterall i wasn't brilliant or what would you do with a boy who's always at the bottom of the class every term? Not much i tell you. Soon enough, My class teacher walked in with our piled up report sheets, i already knew what to expect, i could picture what my report sheet would look like in my mind, how mother would react seeing all those red markings on my sheet, how if father wasn't drunk, would flare up and would try to consider letting me learn a trade, how my little sister Natasha would get all the praises that night.

I wasn't worried about my report sheet, mother won't beat me anyway, but something else lifted my spirits, My class teacher said that the senior boys would have to play a match against another school and if anyone was interested in playing for the school team, they'd have to meet in the school's football field as the team from the other school had arrived. I went with some boys from my class to the field and for sure, our phe teacher decides who gets in the team and who plays. There was like 30 boys from classes and sub classes, then he picked twelve boys because there was really no time to prepare it was only a friendly that wasn't even prepared for. But i guess my phe teacher picked me because i do perform well in his subject and that was like the only subject i pass with ease and was probably the only subject written with blue ink on my report sheet. So he gave us bibs to put on and and we had to do a little warm up and then the game kicked off. Our school football field wasn't that big enough so we had to play a seven aside, seven from my team and seven from the other team and that was fourteen in total. I was benched for the game and i had to watch on from the sidelines.

The match went on with both sides playing to their strengths, when all of a sudden, a player from the visiting team charged down the left flank beating two players from my team with his burst of speed amd finally delivering a beautiful cross into our eighteen yard box. Our goal keeper fluffed his lines and the visiting team's striker was left totally unmarked and he headed the ball into an empty net. The game restarted, my phe teacher shouted at the boys asking them to keep it tight. I glanced around the football field and everyone from my school obviously wasn't happy with the score line. Soon the players from the other school played a fast countrer attack just after a player from my school played a corner kick straight intotheir goalkeeper's catch, he then threw the ball uplfield finding the other team's striker and as soon as he touched the ball, played a quick one - two with another player who wasted no time in letting him have the ball back as soon has he recieved and quickly, he ran passt 3 players from my team who effortlessly tried to retrieve or steal the ball from him, but they were no ,match for him, and as soon as he completed his gliding move, he sent a thuderous shot to the top coner of the net which left our goalkeeper rooted to the spot.

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3

Scores stayed like that for what seemed like a long time and it didn't seem like we were gonna score or equalize. My team's display was mediocre, nothing seemed to connect. Shola played upfront for my team and he had little or less impact. Mr Richard, the phe teacer was not liking the mediocre play been done by my team and then he told me and another guy to warm up and after some lap jogging, i was thrown into play. This was my chance, a chance to show that i might not be brilliant at academics, but In anoher way, God made up for not making me brilliant. Play resumed with a free kick to the other team which gave me a chance to be brought on, the kick was a direct one and it went high over the crowd at the back of the goal post. Soon, a couple of passes were exchanged by the midfield on my team and Jamal sighted me making a run at the far corner of the field and brilliantly he sent a pass that beat almost everyone who tried to intercept it in the direction i was running still on the flank and as soon as i controlled it, i had two players to go past piece of cake quick feet, step overs left them behind me and i played a lob pass to andrew who didn't let the ball land but instead hit a shot that hit the woodwork and the ball bouced straight back at me and with my right foot i hit a low rebound into the net. The noise that errupted from the whole school was deafening, i felt we still had more to do to get in the game but the shouts of goal and my name was exactly what i needed to lift my spirits, i threw a glance at where my Phe teacher was standing on the sidelines, he was all but smiling but i new we still had to do more. Play resumed again, and again, the visiting team dictated the play and we had to keep chasing the ball around, they were very good ball passers. After a couple of passes interchanging here and there, a cross was sent in from the flank but the ball was turned into the corner by the tallest guy in my team Rashid, he played in defence. Coner kick was taken but this time, our goalkeeper knew better than to fluff his lines, so with great precision, he caught the ball and he started a counter attack by throwing the ball straight upfield, the ball beat the visiting team's defender who was standing at the center circle, i was standing closeby and as soon as the ball beat him, we both gave it a chase, though he had the headstart but i was closing on fast on him and voom, we were running shoulder to shoulder, we chased the ball down shoulder to shoulder for whats seemed like seconds and all of a sudden he lost balance and fell, i looked up and already their goalkeeper was already charging down chasing the same ball and he almost got to the ball so i strecthed my right leg to give the ball a flick to the left, which left the goalkeeper sprawling on the floor, pity my touch on the ball made it go farther to the left than i wanted it so i chased down again but the goalkeeper had gotten up and 3 other defenders ran past him in a bid to cover the goal post for him so i faked another shot seemingly to the right, but because they'd thought i was gonna aim at the goal direct i left the goalkepper and the defender's that had covered for him sprawling on the floor again then with precision, i sent the ball to the low coner of the net phew! Two all and we had to search fpr a winner, a winning goal would do. I switched over to the left wing, then i intercepted a pass and soon, i danced through the whole defence and i was already in a dificult situation because i was loosing my stand then i passed the bal to Shola who was left totally unmarked because the whole defence concentrated on retrieving the ball from me and Shola wsted no time in putting the ball in the back of the net with a simple tap. We'd won the game at the last minute.