They called him an osu- an utcast.
He was not to be talked to, talked about or even associated with.
His name was Drogba. That's not his real name. I don't even know his real name. We all called him that at the field.
I met him years back, during the Christmas holiday, when my family and I had traveled down to the village to go spend time with the larger family.
For fun, I would go to the football field and join other guys to play and compete against neighboring villages.
It was during one of those tournaments that i met Drogba. He played fine football. What got us talking was that he gave a fine assist that made our team conceed a goal. It was amazing.
I would find out from my grandma that he was her second cousin's daughter's son. You know how it is, with all their long family trees.
"Why? What did he do?" I asked the other guys at the field who had told me the current situation.
"He sold his parents only land and the house in which they lived without their knowing and ran off with the money," Nd, my cousin told me
"It doesn't make sense. Why would he do that."
"We heard he planned to travel abroad with his girlfriend," Ugo, one of my pals said.
I chuckled.
"Why do you laugh? It's not funny," Ugo, giving me a serious look asked.
"I'm sorry, but to me, it's funny. It's hard to believe that Dan, that calm, cool-headed and gentle boy could do such a thing."
"You think we're lying? Okay, ask anybody else in this village so you can confirm the authenticity of what we've just told you," Nd said.
"I did not say that you were lying. it's just...I'm shocked. Where is he now? Which country did he go?" I asked curiously.
The guys burst out laughing.
"Why are you people laughing? What's amusing about the question?" I asked, confused.
"The..the thing is, he did not make it," Ify who has been quiet all along said.
"Wait! He's dead?" I cut him short.
"Calm.down and let me finish. He's not dead. We heard he was duped. The person who was supposedly processing the visas disappeared with his money," Ify finished.
"Chai! That's so sad."
"What is sad? Can you hear yourself?" Ugo queried
"I don't mean it that way. It's just.." my voice trailed.
Ify spoke, "It's not sad, one bit. He's only receiving what he got. How could he do such terrible thing to his own family, rendering them hopeless and homeless and expect that things will go well for him. For me o, it serves him right."
"Ah! If anyone had told me that that guy could do something like that, I might fight the person. I'm in shock! Where's his parents now?" I asked no one in particular.
"...his siblings have gone to their maternal village, so I heard. I don't know where his parents live now but I heard they negotiated with the person that bought the house so they can raise some money and make refunds," Nd explained.
"Who's the person? Did he agree for refunds."
"Is he mad to not agree? How can you cone into another person's village and buy an already built house without asking questions. The whole village is throwing their weight behind them so, the guy can't even fight it," Ify whom I perceived to have a short-temper said.
"Really sad. Where's Drogba now."
"That one? Nobody knows. It's been long. We haven't heard about him since the village banned him. He committed an abomination so he can't be considered one of us anymore."Nd said.
"This story is just bursting my head."
"See, it's getting late, let's start going home," Ugo said as we gathered our wares.
On the way, while the guys talked about football, my mind was beclouded by images and thoughts of Drogba. He used to be my main guy while we played ball. He had good ball control. It was difficult to associate any of the things I had heard with him.
I got back home and asked my grandma and she told me same story. I felt truly sad for Drogba but I felt worse about what his parents must be going through. It must have been very shameful.
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SOKA🖤
