Will Things Ever Change?

“One for direction, two for hiding, three for settlement,” and before Umar would shout four, no one was in sight. All of us had ducked either in the drainage or like me, his in the incomplete church building that now occupied our field of play. “Four for fire!” Kumar screamed after he himself had his.

Tactically with our maize stalk made guns we headed to attack Umar and his squad.
“Pa! Pa! Pa!” “Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” “Ratatatatatata!” Everyone echoing the supposed sound of his gun with his mouth. When we were done killing ourselves, we gathered and laughed while we headed for the stream, before heading for fruits at the wildlife park.

Three months ago, Umar and the rest of my Muslim friends could not crossover to play on the Christian side of Tudun Wada. And neither could I cross too. There was unrest between the youths on Umar’s side and the youths on my side after a Unity football match organized by the local government chairman.

Today, I will not stop playing with Umar and the friends he brought, maybe until after the sun is gone or when my mother comes for me; because tomorrow is another match day, organized by the Chairman again. And I know, that for another three months or more, I won’t see Umar or any of the Muslim boys again.

Younglan Louis