The Kid From Kenya

Early in the morning, waking up to the birds singing and chirping, my friends were in my room waiting for me to wake up because, in my neighbourhood, I was the only kid with a football. I was not expecting seven of my best mates to stare at me. I could feel them shaking my body, the sounds of the clothes flying out of my cabinets, and their loud voices trying to look for the only reason they even came into my room, my football. This tumultuous scene was interrupted by the piercing voice of my mother calling us for breakfast. Rushing down the stairs still putting on my shorts going to get my mouthwatering breakfast. As I entered the kitchen my mother gave me a sly look and I knew that she had been the one to let these seven hyenas into my room. 

 

“Yakub, as soon as you're done go grab groceries at the store.” my mother said. 
 

As I watched her say this to me little did she know my plan did not involve groceries at all. 

 

I quickly handed out some snacks to my friends. With our blood quickly warming up,  we all headed towards the matatu. When we got to the field the sun was already biting our skin like a ravenous animal feeding on us .My friend Fahad was trying his best to reach his elbow behind his neck, while Ahmed and Issa were passing the ball and forth. As I finished my last push-up we spotted a group of kids.

 

“Why don’t we give ourselves a new challenge today?” Fahad said. 

 

After destroying them at the football game and showing them who's boss, we decided to have a delicious meal at a local restaurant, cooked in traditional ovens and prepared with Kenyan spices. The sounds of the food being chewed and swallowed dominated the atmosphere. I sat on the other side of the table waiting for my food to be served, which led me to ask for some of theirs. After we finished eating, we went to the place where we chilled and let a breeze blow around our neighbouring block.

 

The next day was a very calm, cool day, perfect for football training. It was 4am and I checked my phone, where messages kept popping up about my friends waiting for me outside my front gate because it was still too early to sneak into my bedroom. I forced myself to get up and go to the bathroom to take a refreshing cold shower. I knew my father was asleep because his loud snoring came through the corridor and into my room. He was about to wake up, because he always wakes up for the morning prayer, which is called Fajr. My goal was to sneak out of the house unnoticed. With slow steps through my room, while I searched for my boots, I quietly opened the balcony door.

 

I stuck my head out to look down and saw a group of jokers waving and laughing at me, because what I was about to do seemed unreal. I jumped off a two-story building and felt like my soul and body were going to separate, but when I landed, my inner spirit took control and I landed perfectly on the grass with my friends surrounding me and laughing like a couple of rascals.