So I had a dream and I woke up all wet with a migraine to boot too.

During the last world cup the Brazilian national team someway somehow could not find a defender so I was asked to step in as a central defender. Wearing that Brazilian jersey for real was like a dream come true and I chose to acquit myself pretty well playing in the final.

I don’t know who Brazil played against in the final but Yes! We won.

It was after the win that I felt kinda left out and disoriented in the celebrations. Whilst everybody was jumping about on the field, my co players were kissing their wives and hugging their families, later in the dressing room popping champagne and getting coach all wet in victory, I just felt a sense of loneliness like I didn’t belong.

Was I this depressed? Where was my sense of sportsmanship. Hey wake up! I’d just won the world cup.  At alas my melancholy was deep.
It was at the press conference and photoshoot as I stood back and watched the players sign autographs that a little boy approaches me and asked for my autograph and told me I’d played very well and sorry I’d hurt my knee in that tackle. I signed it wondering how could he be the only person who knew.

Then came the time for the honor roll and I don’t know why but it looked like some vetting process. You have to  take you jersey to a table, spread it out and the elders of the team clap for you, next table your name is ticked off and at the final table you collect your bonus.

It is when I lay my jersey on the table that I realize the name on the back is not mine but reads DIDO. I try to explain to the woman at the desk that I had been brought in at the last minute to play central defense but nobody seems to remember me.  My name is Kola. 

The lady is adamant to acknowledge me and says there is nothing she can do. I plead with her to ask the coach who at that moment walks in to talk to an elder seated right behind the lady but coach completely ignores us in this public spectacle. Even though I keep pleading I realize it’s futile, the young woman has a smirk on her face, and I get up and walk away.

How can I play a whole world cup final and only one little boy recognized my efforts towards winning the world cup for Brazil.

I hear shouts in the distance and that is when I wake up bathed in sweat to realize it’s time for the muezzin to call the fasting faithful to prayer and they are all at it.

And Yes! I’m wet alright but it’s not the champagne from the victory party but my own sweat from the dumsor heat.

Please sorry if I led you on, how many of us have not suffered delusions from the malaria drugs we’ve taken.

Maybe someday on another bout of malaria I’m gonna have a testimonial match for myself. If they don’t believe I won the world cup I believe in myself and so should you. 

Like I always say it begins with YOU! 


One Response to “Delusional”

  1. Kola, I believe you. I was that little boy or was I the coach?
    We are at a point in our lives it is easy to live lies and have society applaud us.
    Beautiful and insightful piece. As always.
    Blessings Always.

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