The sun was just beginning to rise when Khali stood by the dusty road outside his home, a small travel bag slung across his shoulder and his football tucked under his arm. His mother stood beside him, adjusting his collar as tears shimmered in her eyes.
"Don't cry, Mama," Khali said softly. "I'll be back soon — stronger."
She smiled through her tears. "I know you will, my son. Just remember what I told you — talent opens doors, but character keeps them open."
A honk interrupted them. The Zangola team bus rumbled up the road, painted in fading blue and white. Bello leaned out of the window, waving."Khali! Come on, the city won't wait forever!"
Khali hugged his mother tightly one last time."I'll make you proud," he whispered.
"I already am," she replied.
Then he climbed aboard, his heart pounding with excitement and fear.
The Journey Begins
The ride to Abuja took hours. The boys sang, joked, and imagined what awaited them."I heard the Northern Eagles Academy has real grass pitches!" Musa exclaimed."And gym facilities!" Bello added.Khali smiled but said little. His mind was racing. What if I'm not good enough? What if the injury slows me down?
As they neared the city, tall buildings appeared in the distance, shining under the morning sun. The roads were smoother, the cars faster, the air different — filled with energy and promise.
"This is it," Khali murmured. "Abuja."
First Glimpse of the Academy
When the bus stopped, the boys gasped. Before them stood the Northern Eagles Football Academy — a sprawling compound surrounded by green fields and banners with the academy's eagle emblem.
A stern-looking man in a navy tracksuit greeted them."I'm Coach Maxwell," he said. "Welcome, boys. From now on, you're not just local heroes — you're dreamers standing on the edge of something bigger. Only the best will make it through."
He paused, scanning their faces. "Remember: attitude is as important as skill."
Khali swallowed hard. The pressure felt real now.
They were assigned dorm rooms — two boys per room. Khali shared his with Bello, of course."Feels strange, doesn't it?" Bello said, dropping his bag on the bunk. "Like we're in another world."Khali nodded. "A world we've been waiting for."
The First Training
The next morning, training began. The academy's main pitch looked like something out of Khali's dreams — smooth, green, perfect.
Dozens of players from all over the country filled the field. They were taller, faster, sharper. Some wore professional boots, others even had sponsors.
Khali suddenly felt small.
Coach Maxwell blew his whistle. "Warm-up laps! Let's see who came here to work!"
Khali ran hard, ignoring the sting in his ankle. Sweat dripped down his face, but he didn't stop. Bello kept pace beside him, breathing heavily.
Then came the ball drills. Khali's first touch was smooth, his passes crisp, but the others were good too — really good. One boy in particular stood out: Tunde, a tall striker with lightning speed and a smirk that never left his face.
After Khali made a brilliant through-pass that set Bello up for a goal, Tunde scoffed."Nice pass, village boy. You practice that with goats back home?"
Some boys laughed. Khali's cheeks burned, but he stayed silent.
Bello glared. "Watch your mouth."
Coach Maxwell's whistle shrieked. "No fighting! Let your feet do the talking."
A Test of Nerves
The next drill was a one-on-one challenge — midfielder versus striker. When Khali's turn came, fate paired him with Tunde.
The other players gathered to watch."Let's see what the Zangola boy can do," someone whispered.
Tunde grinned. "Try not to embarrass yourself."
The whistle blew.
Tunde charged forward, the ball glued to his feet. Khali moved low, reading his steps. Left feint, right cut — Khali stayed calm, then made a perfect tackle, stealing the ball cleanly.
The crowd gasped.
Before Tunde could react, Khali flicked the ball forward, dribbled past him, and scored into the small goalpost.
Cheers erupted. Bello shouted, "That's my boy!"
Tunde's smirk vanished. He kicked the ground, furious.
Coach Maxwell nodded approvingly. "Good composure, Khali. Keep that up."
Khali smiled slightly — not out of pride, but relief. Maybe I do belong here after all.
A Late-Night Promise
That night, as lights went out in the dorm, Bello whispered from the top bunk,"Tomorrow's the selection match. They'll start cutting players."
Khali lay staring at the ceiling. "Yeah. It's only just beginning."
"Do you think we'll make it?" Bello asked quietly.
Khali thought of his mother, his village, his dream. Then he answered, "We have to."
Outside, the night breeze carried the distant sound of cheering from another pitch. Somewhere out there, other dreamers were fighting for the same chance.
Khali clenched his fist. "Tomorrow," he whispered, "I'll give them everything I've got."