Arsenal Fire, Moto, Wikidi

4 of 21
Chelsea has picked the best players and Arsenal is in for a thorough beating because Wekesa cannot run properly yet it is him we have surrendered our lives to and Timina will cry if you don’t pass her the ball. Timina, Wekesa, Miriam, Haggai and I are Arsenal and Miriam is our goal keeper. Chelsea are warming up and doing star jumps and kicks and singing taunting songs: wenyewe walituita, lakini tutawapiga. Timina clicks and says we just target Sifuna’s ankle and cripple him and ensure we hit their goal keeper on his face with the ball. Miriam ties a grass around our goal post and pins one omena too to blind our enemies. Our strategy? Hit, hit, bewitch them.
 
Arsenal is playing without shirts and we feel superior because we will stay fresh throughout the thirty-minute game. Chelsea’s goal keeper is Matumbufu and he is even taller than the goal post, but his eyes don’t see far. Sometimes people say he is a bad child because he ignores adults on the road. The referee is Sammy who has replaced Niki now and whenever Niki is he is not happy. He loved refereeing and being a helper in kati because he was the youngest in the pack.
 
Chelsea’s goalkeeper is now running from one end of the goal post to another, making menacing noises whenever an Arsenal player draws near the goalarea. So far, Miriam’s witchcraft is working but Sifuna’s ankle seems to have become steel and it is damaging our toes. The crowd of children is cheering us and pressure is mounting. They are singing viva Timina! Viva Truphena! And Viva Arsenal and we wave at them. Chelsea is angry because nobody is viva-ing them. Our defender, Haggai, is a wall, wide and high. Our mid-fielder is swift like hawk.
 
But Sifuna’s steel legs and his speed are not something to under rate. That is why their first goal does not surprise us. And Majimbo who passed the ball to Sifuna is behaving like a bull on heat; jumping, kicking, you would think he is Kante. Even Kante doesn’t make a fool out of himself because of a silly goal. He just smiles and lifts his shirt. But Majimbo is almost breaking his neck and spine. And he will remain in a wheelchair for the rest of his life if he continues with that foolishness. Lumbasi is dancing on the other end as if we have not noticed that he has not touched the ball since we began twenty minutes ago. And he is dancing without any order. No wonder he tails in class, or becomes second last.
 
The crowd is still singing our names, assuring us that we are fire, we are moto, are wikidi. They are singing Timina tetema, eh mama tetema. Wekesa, tetema, eehh mama tetema… and they are singing all our names. And we are running after the ball like nonsense, for if we lose this game, Chelsea will shit on our heads.
#Chingano #QuarantineStories #VillageLife #4of21
This entry was posted in Fiction.

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