Reflect and Reality
Monday 11:00am
Growing up, I had the opportunity of watching young boys play local football, you know, the normal stone goal post and khaki ball. I would seat at the pavement of the customs officers big yellow house, just there watching my brother play football with the other children in the area.
The next thing you will hear is eye-ball, eyeball, eyeball!
What's that?
So with time I got to understand what eyeball meant. If the ball went a little too high above the ground through the goal post, it is not considered a goal but considered eyeball!
Eyeball always caused problems, it always made the boys fight.
It is eyeball. It is not eyeball. Are you mad?, don't you have eyes?. It is you that is mad, it is you that don't have eyes. Somto sheybi you see the ball, see na, e pass like this, like this o, and this mumu is saying is eyeball.
Then one punch will just fly from somewhere and hit somebody.
Who is mumu? Is like you're mad abi?.
And the person who has been hit will now be saying "Are you mad, are you mad, are you mad!" Three times like that and very fast with his both hands flying in the direction of the hitter. He will only be beating the air because someone else from the clique would have come inbetween the both of them to separate the fight.
The hitter will still be bragging, "See I will just beat you here now, you will know yourself, idiot!"
Then the person who has been hit will now be saying amidst tears "It is you that is idiot! Stupid boy!
Then somebody from nowhere will just scream, " See blood ooo." Then the boy who has been hit will feel his lips and see blood, then he will cry and go upstairs to report to his mother. I don't know, those children always live upstairs.
In the evening of that same day, his mother will wear very tight jean shorts and tie wrapper over it, and hold the boy by the hand and drag him over to the other boys house, she might not even wear slippers, but she has tied to a knot her wrapper.
Then the women will begin the 'why did your son beat my son' and all that. After all the drama, they will return to their houses after warning the boys to stay away from each other.
Two days later, they are back playing football together again.
What am I saying?.
Last night Mike died.
Football killed him.
Neighbourhood football, the normal stone goal post and khaki ball thing.
He was stabbed with a broken bottle, he was stabbed deep.
I don't know if it was eyeball or offside or yellow card or red card. I just know he died.
Mike should be a guy my age, or maybe a little younger or older.
But it still leaves me awe, why would someone just break bottle and goan stab another because of ordinary stone post and khaki ball?
But the truth is, they will never get together to play football again, cos not even an apology can heal this one.
*eye-ball is actual high-ball in this text.
Growing up, I had the opportunity of watching young boys play local football, you know, the normal stone goal post and khaki ball. I would seat at the pavement of the customs officers big yellow house, just there watching my brother play football with the other children in the area.
The next thing you will hear is eye-ball, eyeball, eyeball!
What's that?
So with time I got to understand what eyeball meant. If the ball went a little too high above the ground through the goal post, it is not considered a goal but considered eyeball!
Eyeball always caused problems, it always made the boys fight.
It is eyeball. It is not eyeball. Are you mad?, don't you have eyes?. It is you that is mad, it is you that don't have eyes. Somto sheybi you see the ball, see na, e pass like this, like this o, and this mumu is saying is eyeball.
Then one punch will just fly from somewhere and hit somebody.
Who is mumu? Is like you're mad abi?.
And the person who has been hit will now be saying "Are you mad, are you mad, are you mad!" Three times like that and very fast with his both hands flying in the direction of the hitter. He will only be beating the air because someone else from the clique would have come inbetween the both of them to separate the fight.
The hitter will still be bragging, "See I will just beat you here now, you will know yourself, idiot!"
Then the person who has been hit will now be saying amidst tears "It is you that is idiot! Stupid boy!
Then somebody from nowhere will just scream, " See blood ooo." Then the boy who has been hit will feel his lips and see blood, then he will cry and go upstairs to report to his mother. I don't know, those children always live upstairs.
In the evening of that same day, his mother will wear very tight jean shorts and tie wrapper over it, and hold the boy by the hand and drag him over to the other boys house, she might not even wear slippers, but she has tied to a knot her wrapper.
Then the women will begin the 'why did your son beat my son' and all that. After all the drama, they will return to their houses after warning the boys to stay away from each other.
Two days later, they are back playing football together again.
What am I saying?.
Last night Mike died.
Football killed him.
Neighbourhood football, the normal stone goal post and khaki ball thing.
He was stabbed with a broken bottle, he was stabbed deep.
I don't know if it was eyeball or offside or yellow card or red card. I just know he died.
Mike should be a guy my age, or maybe a little younger or older.
But it still leaves me awe, why would someone just break bottle and goan stab another because of ordinary stone post and khaki ball?
But the truth is, they will never get together to play football again, cos not even an apology can heal this one.
*eye-ball is actual high-ball in this text.
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