This is a story of the history of a Kenyan soccer star… of ashes to flashes… of unrivaled resilience; the tale of MULTANA! A 16 year old who lays claim to a rich soccer heritage and unfortunate beginnings. He is the great grandson of Attulala the first Kenyan to have share holding in a football club that once won the La liga trophy and grandson to Multana former National team goalkeeper, God rest their souls deserving.
This heritage however skipped a generation since Multana’s father heeded the call of priesthood, a career he pursued until he lost his will to turn down the few and far apart coitus offers from the female members of his congregation. Born out of an illicit affair, his being was a disgrace to the Catholic communion the globe over. His father, heavens forbid, was a man of the cloth; a catholic priest to be precise. On birth his teenage mom was married of to an elderly wicked witchdoctor as a penalty for tempting the man of God. His soccer obsessed father was unceremoniously banished from the church, and advised to pursue a career in less ethical professions like siring bustards. His witchdoctor father passed on 9 years after the unnatural marriage leaving behind 3 widows and 16 children.
As he grew into a fine young man Multana’s sole essence of survival was the idol he worshiped: THE BALL! As the firstborn child of his mother who happened to have proudly birthed 5 other boys, Multana’s home responsibilities were devastating. He hunted for proteins and gathered vitamins. He collected dung for reinforcing the wall and harvested grass for thatching the house. He toiled and moiled in the field both in planting, weeding and harvesting. Numerous being the trips he made to the river and limited those that he made to the free mission school. But one thing was consistent his evening trips to the village football pitch. He observed… he cheered… he cursed… all out of his love for the game, his consuming want to play the game; his obsession to be the game. When he was 7 he dribbled a balloon belonging to a town cousin who had visited for Christmas; it never came from the skies.
At age 11 his kicking of a kimbo tin led to the timely demise of some poisonous reptile. Today he is 16 and a combination of his foot and the ball his funs, team mates and opponents say habitually result in a torn net, an injured goal keeper or both. Hence his stage name Multana the rapture! His passion for the game was rewarded when Mr. Too a School Coach from a neighborhood boarding school noticed him at the village pitch and put him through a practical interview. Out of five penalty shots he scored four, the fifth kick wrecked the wooden goal post, and that was Multana’s visa into the Boarding school. A high cost provincial school that sourced its students from top performing academies. The experience of kicking a leather ball and covering his jigger feasted sore toes with leather boots was inspiring. Nothing was going to stand between him and the net behind the goal keeper. Unlike most of his teammates he knew he was not in the School to embark on a fight against ignorance, he was there to torment defenders, embarrass goal keepers and delight funs.
The school team was being retained for training session as the rest of the school went home for a four days midterm break and this was Multana’s moment of truth. Tomorrow will be his first day to play for the school team and he unmistakably wasn’t the darling of any of his team mates. Makunja the team captain viewed him as a threat and Obiku the lead striker loathes the Idea of having his glory split owing to the introduction of another striker. On smelling the tension, the coach Mr. Too threatened that he either sees some team spirit ahead of the match or else Obiku and Makunja will warm the bench, a thought which doesn’t go down well will the rest of the team.