CHAPTER 4 — The First Match
The bus rattled like an old tin can as it climbed the dusty road toward Kasarani Stadium.
Players sat in silence, staring out of fogged windows — jerseys mismatched, boots borrowed, eyes heavy with nerves.
David Muriuki sat near the front, arms folded, watching reflections in the glass instead of the road ahead.
He could see his players' faces — Samuel whispering a prayer, Kevin bobbing his head to music, Moses staring at his captain's armband as if it were a weight, not an honor.
Only Babu seemed at ease, grinning as he tapped his gloves together.
From the back of the bus, a voice called out.
"Coach, are we really playing on TV today?" It was Samuel.
David turned, half-smiling. "Yes. So run like you want your mother to see you, not your mistakes."
Laughter broke the tension. Even Kevin chuckled.
The stadium was far from full, but loud enough.
Half the crowd wore the blue of Ngong Rangers, Kibera's opponents — a mid-table team with confidence and money.
The other half… wasn't really a half. A small cluster of Kibera supporters — barely twenty people — held a faded banner that read:
"WE STILL BELIEVE."
It was crooked and handmade, but it made David's chest tighten.
He'd been called a fool for taking this job. But fools, he thought, sometimes change the game.
Kickoff
From the first whistle, chaos.
Ngong Rangers pressed high — sharp passes, crisp movement. Kibera couldn't string three passes together.
Kevin was crowded out. Samuel kept losing the ball. Moses was shouting himself hoarse trying to hold the line.
By the tenth minute, Babu had already made two desperate saves. The third shot hit the crossbar, rattling like thunder.
"Babu! Good hands!" David shouted.
The young keeper nodded, chest heaving. "I've got this, coach!"
But ten minutes later, a cross sliced through the defense — header, goal.
Ngong 1, Kibera 0.
The stadium roared. Kevin kicked the turf. Samuel hung his head.
David didn't move. He simply shouted, "Samuel! Look up. Forget it. Next play!"
Half-Time: The Locker Room
Silence. Sweat. The smell of liniment and fear.
David didn't yell. He let the quiet stretch until the players began looking up at him.
"Do you feel that?" he asked. "That silence? That's what losing sounds like before it happens for real."
He paced slowly.
"You're playing like men waiting to fail. Stop waiting. Fight for every second. You don't owe anyone style — just heart."
He turned to Kevin.
"You're the brain, not the celebrity. Feed Samuel."
To Samuel:
"Don't hide. You're faster than fear."
To Moses:
"Lead. Even if they don't follow yet."
Then he looked at Babu.
"Keep us alive."
David paused at the door.
"They think you're the joke of the league," he said. "So make them choke on their laughter."
Second Half
Something shifted.
The passes tightened. The runs had purpose. Kevin dropped deep, found Samuel on the wing.
Samuel took on one defender — then another. The crowd gasped.
He cut inside, struck with his left foot — the ball swerved, hit the post, rebounded—
Moses, charging forward from defense, smashed it home.
Goal.
The tiny section of Kibera fans erupted.
Drums. Shouts. Someone lit a flare made of cardboard and red paint.
David clenched his fists, but didn't celebrate.
He just shouted, "Again! Keep going!"
Minutes dragged. Ngong Rangers grew desperate.
In the 88th minute, they countered. A striker broke through — one-on-one with Babu.
The stadium held its breath.
Babu charged, spread wide — the striker shot — Babu's glove tipped it wide.
Corner kick.
The whistle blew shortly after.
Full time: Kibera United 1 – Ngong Rangers 1.
Not a victory — but not a defeat either.
The team huddled at midfield, exhausted but smiling.
David walked up, slow and steady.
"No one expected us to last ninety minutes," he said. "But you did. That's step one."
Kevin looked at him, sweat dripping down his face. "Coach… you think we can actually win next time?"
David grinned faintly.
"We already did. We stopped being a joke."
He looked up toward the stands — that small group of fans still cheering like champions.
And for the first time, the stadium didn't feel so empty.
End of Chapter 4