After Coach Juma dismissed them, Amani left the stadium with heavy steps, his mind still buzzing from the intensity of the race.
The scorching sun bore down mercilessly, transforming the asphalt road into a shimmering mirage as he trekked east toward downtown Mombasa.
Each step became more labored than the last, as if the very ground beneath him was conspiring against his progress.
As he walked, the aftereffects of the race began to overwhelm him. A wave of dizziness washed over Amani, his vision blurring at the edges.
His knees ached with every stride, threatening to buckle beneath him, and his mind felt drained like a battery depleted to its final reserves.
All he craved was a moment of solace, a chance to let his body recover and be enveloped by the calm serenity that only nature could provide.
He yearned to run on the beach, to make sand angels and bask in the sun's warmth as a reward for his herculean effort today. But his body had other plans, demanding rest with every protesting muscle.
Unable to push through much longer on foot, Amani flagged down a bodaboda to return to his modest hotel.
Even though the fare chipped away at his dwindling finances with each shilling counted and recounted in his mind and he couldn't help but smile at the thought that his fate was slowly shifting.
If everything went according to plan, he envisioned a future where money was not an issue, far removed from his current struggles where every coin was a careful calculation.
Once back at the hotel, Amani made his way to the public bathroom, a grimy, utilitarian space where the only luxury was a cold shower.
The pipes groaned and screeched like haunted metal before delivering a feeble cascade of icy water. With a resigned sigh, he stepped into the chilly stream, the water drenching him as it cascaded over his tired muscles.
For a moment, he imagined himself standing beneath an endless waterfall in some pristine forest, the cold water soothing every ache and washing away the remnants of fatigue.
In that hazy, almost dreamlike state, memories of his past life began to drift back as fragments of another time, another chance, another Amani who had walked a different path.
After his shower, Amani returned to his room feeling marginally refreshed. He grabbed a light lunch of a simple meal that barely satisfied his hunger and managed to catch a few hours of sleep until the evening.
When he finally woke, he felt rejuvenated, physically prepared to test his next upgrade. Eagerly, he opened the system's user interface, the familiar blue glow illuminating his face in the dimly lit room.
On the translucent blue screen, a card bearing the image of a fresh garlic appeared in the temporarily unlocked inventory tab.
Without hesitation, he tapped it, and, to his amazement, a small, vibrant white garlic materialized on the screen.
Acting quickly, Amani tossed it into his mouth. Unlike the previous vitality-enhancing elixir, which had felt like liquid fire coursing through his veins, this B-grade agility elixir only sent a mildly tickling sensation through his body, a welcome contrast to the searing pain he had experienced before. Yet, as the sensation faded, a nagging doubt crept in.
'Is that all?' he wondered, expecting something more dramatic.
Determined to confirm the effects, Amani clenched and unclenched his fists, searching for any sign of change. When nothing obvious manifested, he reopened the system interface to scrutinize his attributes, the blue light casting sharp shadows across his concentrated features.
****
LEGENDARY SYSTEM
SYSTEM LEVEL: 1 (17/100 points to level-up)
USER: Amani Hamadi
AGE: 13 years
TALENT ASSESSMENT: Grade B
(Evaluation: A slightly talented but pitiful boy dreaming of pro football glory)
USER MENU:
USER STATS LEGENDARY MISSIONS SYSTEM SHOP (temporarily unlocked)
SYSTEM LOTTERY (locked)
NB: Please level up the system to unlock more functions.
****
"Yes!" Amani shouted excitedly after perusing the homepage. After over a month of grinding away, his talent assessment had finally ascended to a B grade. He tapped on the user stats tab to see a detailed breakdown of his progress, his heart racing with anticipation.
****
USER STATS
→ Physical Fitness: B+
→ Football Technique: A-
→ Game Intelligence: A+
→ Mental Ability and Mindset: C-
→ LEGENDARY Skills: 1
****
Amani noted with satisfaction that his physical fitness and football technique had both improved by a full grade. Curious, he tapped on the football technique sub-tab for more specifics:
***
FOOTBALL TECHNIQUE (Average Rating: A-)
Ball Control: A+
Dribbling Skills: B-
Passing Accuracy: A-
Body Control: B+
Preferred Foot: (Left and Right)
***
He had anticipated these results. Enhancing his agility had naturally bolstered his dribbling and body control, both improved by a grade. Yet, he couldn't fathom why his physical fitness hadn't leaped to an A-. Clicking over to that tab, his heart sank a little:
***
PHYSICAL FITNESS (Average Rating: B+)
Balance and Coordination: B-
Agility: B+
Strength: B-
Stamina: B+
Endurance Points: A-
***
"My stamina has dropped!" Amani exclaimed in disbelief, his voice echoing in the empty room. His endurance, once rated A-, had slipped to a B+. Puzzled, he speculated, "Maybe enhancing agility directly compromises stamina."
Nevertheless, he felt confident that his improved agility would help him shine during the trial matches tomorrow, giving him an edge that could make all the difference.
Before he could savor this slight victory, a sudden, insistent hunger seized him. His stomach growled loudly, a desperate reminder that he hadn't eaten since lunch.
"Is this a side effect of the elixir?" he muttered as he patted his rumbling belly. Glancing at his cheap Casio watch, he noted it was still six o'clock in the evening.
Unable to ignore his hunger any longer, Amani stepped out of the hotel. His next destination was a roadside food stall, his only hope for a decent meal given his critical funds. As he walked, he nearly collided with a boy about his age who seemed to appear from nowhere.
"You're Amani Hamadi, right?" the stranger asked with a wide grin that seemed to light up the dimming evening.
"Yes, that's me," Amani replied cautiously, studying the boy's face. "Are you staying in a nearby hotel? What brings you here?"
The boy introduced himself as Malik Njoroge, his designer clothes and confident demeanor a striking contrast to Amani's humble accommodations. Malik laughed heartily, the sound rich and carefree.
"I'm just visiting a friend who works around here. Why would I stay in a dump?" he joked, gesturing dismissively at the surrounding buildings.
Amani's eyes widened. "You're staying at a four-star place?" he asked incredulously, trying to imagine such luxury.
"Yep," Malik confirmed, his tone light and carefree. "Tamarind Village, right by the beach. I was born blessed, I guess." He spread his arms as if embracing the entire sky, his confidence bordering on arrogance yet somehow remaining charming.
Amani sighed inwardly, a mix of admiration and resentment stirring within him. Though Malik's wealth was evident in his expensive-looking Jordans and polished demeanor, Amani couldn't help but feel the sting of his own hardships. Still, he shook Malik's extended hand. "Nice to meet you," he said politely, determined not to let envy cloud his judgment.
As they walked together toward a nearby eatery, Malik noticed Amani's subdued expression. "Man, when did you last have a proper meal?" he asked, his keen eyes taking in Amani's lean frame.
"At lunchtime," Amani admitted, his stomach rumbling louder as if on cue. He suspected that the elixir had depleted his stored energy reserves, leaving him ravenous in a way he'd never experienced before.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Just tag along and eat," Malik insisted, his tone warm and generous. "You won't perform at tomorrow's trials if you're running on empty."
Reluctantly, Amani agreed, pride warring with practicality in his mind.
Half an hour later, the two found themselves seated in the upscale ambiance of the Crave Restaurant in the City Mall, a classy establishment with mullioned windows, embroidered curtains, flagstone floors, and dark walnut tables adorned with fresh flower centerpieces.
Soothing Swahili music filled the air, lending an air of elegance to the setting. Reservations here were nearly impossible, yet Malik had somehow secured a table on short notice, further evidence of his privileged status.
Before long, a beautiful waitress presented Amani with an enormous platter: perfectly cooked eggs, an array of savory meats, crispy fried potatoes, and a tureen of chilled fruits. A basket of fresh rolls sat by the side, a meal that could feed a family for days.
As Amani dug in, he marveled at the stark contrast between this lavish feast and the meals of pancakes and fried cassava he was used to, each bite a reminder of the vast gulf between his world and Malik's.
Even as he savored each bite, Amani couldn't help but reflect on the disparities around him. 'How can so many starve while others dine like kings?' he wondered, his thoughts mingling with gratitude and a fierce determination to change his own fate.
"A man must work hard and make it or die trying," he reminded himself, the mantra that had carried him through his darkest moments.
When his hunger was finally sated, Malik initiated a conversation. "So, you're from Malindi?" he asked, leaning back in his chair with the ease of someone who had never known true want.
"Yes," Amani replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "By the way, thanks for dinner."
"Small matter," Malik grinned, waving away the gratitude. "Where are you from? I haven't seen you in any Mombasa youth competitions before."
Malik, a son of Nairobi, laughed as he recalled being teammates with Stephen Nondi, a name that echoed in Amani's mind with both admiration and trepidation.
"You and Nondi really dominated that race today. How do you guys train your stamina?" Amani asked, curiosity lacing his tone, eager to learn any secret that might give him an edge.
"Well, I run five miles every day," Malik answered casually, as if discussing the weather. "It works wonders. You should give it a try."
Then, leaning in, Amani lowered his voice. "Why are you here, Malik? With your financial situation, why not enroll in one of the football academies abroad instead of going through these local trials?"
His question carried a hint of concern, not just for Malik's career but for the dark memories Amani recalled from his previous life, memories of talented players whose paths had ended in tragedy.
Malik's expression darkened for a moment, the carefree facade slipping to reveal something more vulnerable beneath. "My father doesn't want me to play football. He says it's a waste of time, he worries about how most Kenyan players fade away after retirement."
Amani nodded, understanding all too well the bitter reality of broken dreams. "So, you came here without his permission? Who funded your trip?" he pressed, pieces of a puzzle from another lifetime beginning to fall into place.
"My stepbrother sponsored me. He's the only one who knows I'm taking part in the trials," Malik replied, a trace of anxiety creeping into his smile, his fingers nervously tracing patterns on the tablecloth.
Amani's mind churned with memories and suspicions from his previous life, a life where talented players like Malik had met tragic fates under mysterious circumstances.
'What if your stepbrother is involved in something dark and his mysterious death?' he mused silently, the thought sending a chill down his spine despite the warm evening.
"Does your brother know you're taking part in the AFTA trials?" Amani inquired, locking eyes with Malik, searching for any sign of deception.
"No," Malik said with a small, reluctant smile. "He just booked my hotel and left me to my own. He doesn't even follow the local teams here."
Amani's tone turned earnest, leaning forward with an intensity that surprised even himself.
"If your father finds out and pressures your brother to reveal your whereabouts, you might be pulled out of the trials, and that could ruin your chance to shine." He paused, his gaze intense.
"Maybe you should consider changing hotels where you can remain off the radar until the end of the trials."
Malik sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Man, I can't leave now. I've heard international scouts will be here tomorrow." Then, after a moment, he added with a shrug, "But maybe I should change hotels. I don't want any obstacles to jeopardize my future."
"Good," Amani said, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. "Just make sure it's a place where you can't easily be traced." He chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood. "And try not to overeat; your performance tomorrow is important."
They exchanged a friendly smile as Malik stood up. "It was nice meeting you, Amani. See you tomorrow at the trials."
"See you," Amani replied, watching Malik leave with a sense of camaraderie mingled with worry.
As he sat back and finished the rest of his meal, his thoughts drifted to the challenges that lay ahead.
Tonight, he would rest well, recharge his energy, and prepare to face another day where his destiny on the pitch hung in the balance.
The weight of two lives, his past and his present,t rested on his shoulders, but for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel alone in carrying it.