The Greatest of all Time

A thousand memories flooded through Zachary's mind as they traversed the familiar roads of Lubumbashi in Coach Damata's Datsun pickup truck, heading for his grandma's residence. They had just passed some familiar landmarks from his previous life. Among them were the TP Mazembe Stadium and the little market where he used to shop with his ex-fiancé, Anita.

He couldn't help but sigh as he recalled the hard life he'd lived before his return to the past. The story of his previous incarnation was so tragic that it could feasibly be turned into a best-seller. He'd lost everything, including his fiancée, talent, career, and his close family. But luckily, he'd gotten a second chance. Because of that, he was resolute in pursuing the goals he had set for himself in his new life. He was determined to make sure he never fell into similar dire straits.

Sad memories aside, the city of Lubumbashi looked just the way he remembered it. All the neighborhoods they drove through on their way up north had a distinctly Congolese flavor. Buildings were placed haphazardly all over the place and overlooked potholed roads.

As they drove through bustling streets, Zachary's ears picked up sounds of laughter and noise from hawkers peddling their wares — all with a backdrop of catchy Lingala music. He couldn't help but smile as he relished the feeling of returning home. There was a simplicity to the way of life his countrymen followed that he'd almost forgotten after living in Europe for more than two years. Everything was different and down to earth.

But occasionally, his nose would detect the foul smell of garbage, or he would see street children begging by the roadside. That reminded him of the sub-par service delivery and poor governance that was the tune in most of his home country's cities.

"We have arrived," Coach Damata said after a few more minutes of driving. He steered the truck off the murram road to a narrower lane.

"Oh," Zachary said, feeling his heartbeat quicken as he gazed out of the window. Along the lane were small but neat houses surrounded by perimeter fences. He could tell right away that his grandma's residence was located in a very cozy neighborhood by Lubumbashi's standards.

"I can see you managed to find a good and neat neighborhood close to the town center," he said after taking in the scenery around. "That's good. Thank you very much for everything."

"No problem," Coach Damata said, steering the vehicle off the lane — towards the gate of one of the small residences encircled by a solid perimeter wall. "This is the place. Welcome to your home, Zachary." He added, smiling and hooting.

Half a minute later, a young boy, who looked about 10 or 12, opened the gate and yelled, "Coach Damata is back," in Swahili. He opened the gate winder with a big grin on his face. Nonetheless, his actions did not stop him from continuing to announce the coach's arrival at the top of his lungs.

"You seem very popular here," Zachary remarked, inclining his head to look at Coach Damata. "Who is he?" He asked since the boy was certainly too young to be a laborer at his grandma's place.

Coach Damata smiled on hearing the question. But just as he was about to answer, five more kids of ages varying from about five to twelve swarmed the gate. They joined the first in yelling the same slogan: 'Coach Damata is here' repeatedly. It seemed seeing Coach Damata's Datsun truck had long turned into a great source of joy for them.

"Okay, now I'm confused," Zachary said, looking at all the commotion ahead of them. "Are you sure we're at my grandma's residence or some daycare? What are all the kids doing here?"

"This is the place," Coach Damata said, slowly steering the vehicle into the gate, past the excited kids. "You should direct those questions at your grandma. She's the owner of the place, and I'm usually just a visitor."

"Oh, okay then," Zachary said, nodding and checking himself.

A few seconds later, Coach Damata pulled up in front of the garage of the neat house. Zachary said his thanks before exiting and lifting his case from the cabin of the pickup truck. But, before he could take a single step towards the front entrance, he heard one of the kids shouting again in the distance.

"Grandma," he yelled in Swahili from somewhere behind the house. "Coach Damata has come with a very tall man with long hair like a Rasta's. He's carrying a massive suitcase with him."

"Grandma!?" Zachary mumbled, raising a brow and giving Coach Damata a 'what's going on?' look. During his previous life, he'd rarely met any of his cousins. That was because there had barely been any guests at his grandma's farm in Bukavu. So, he was startled to find several kids at his grandma's new residence.

Coach Damata shrugged in response to his question, waving to one of the kids in the distance. "It seems they're a bit intimidated by your height. Otherwise, they would have already swarmed me by now." He said before approaching the front entrance.

Zachary followed suit with his suitcase in tow. His heartbeat raced in anticipation of a reunion with the sole parental figure he'd ever known. Thankfully, she was still alive and well in his current life, unlike in his past one.

An aged woman stepped out of the door onto the front shade before they could make it there. She looked exactly like Zachary remembered — with the same warm smile that could warm his soul from the inside whenever he was before her.

"Coach," she said, smiling as she stepped further out of the door. "Welcome! The kids are telling me that you brought along a tall giant..." She stopped midsentence and did a double-take as her gaze landed on Zachary.

"Grandma, I'm back," Zachary said, smiling but standing still in place. "How have you been?"

"Is that you, Zachary?" She asked in Swahili, moving closer to him and observing him.

"Of course, it's me," Zachary said, feeling a bit awkward. All the thrill of meeting his grandma evaporated after that question. "Who else could it be?"

"Then, how come I don't recognize you?" She said, moving around him, seemingly to observe him more closely. "Are you sure you're Zachary? Or, as the kids say, you are some giant that Coach Damata picked up from somewhere."

Coach Damata couldn't help but laugh from beside him at the aged woman's reaction.

"Stop with the teasing and jokes, grandma," Zachary said, sighing with frustration. He'd almost forgotten that even in her old age, she enjoyed playing pranks on people.

"I got you with that," she said, finally smiling and pulling him into a hug. "Welcome back home, Zachary. How have you been doing?"

"I'm fine," Zachary said, bending slightly and allowing himself to soak into his grandma's embrace. "How have you been, grandma?"

"I'm doing well, but I miss my farm and animals," she said, stepping back. "You have grown, Zachary. With that height of yours, you're starting to look more and more like your..." She trailed off midsentence, looking away.

Zachary raised a brow at that. But he still chose to move the conversation in another direction since he knew that they weren't in the right place to discuss more personal issues.

"So, how are you finding the new place, grandma?" He asked, smiling at her.

"Although it can't compare to my farm back in Bukavu, it's still fine," she replied, smiling back at him. "Please, come inside. We shouldn't continue talking in front of the door as if we're strangers."

"Coach Damata!" She continued, turning towards the plump, aged man. "How's your morning? Sorry for keeping you waiting outside."

"My morning is fine, Mrs. Bemba," Coach Damata replied, grinning. "I don't mind standing outside. Welcoming your grandson after more than two years should take priority."

"Well, thank you for bringing him home," Zachary's grandma said, smiling. "But, let's enter the house first."

"Thank you," Coach Damata replied. "But I need to return to town to handle some urgent business. So, I won't be entering the house. But I'll return to visit after a while."

"Won't you eat something before you leave?" Zachary's grandma asked, raising a brow. "How can I let you leave on an empty stomach after visiting me?"

"No, Mrs. Bemba," Coach Damata replied, shaking his head. "I'm needed at the stadium in around fifteen minutes. So, I've got to run."

"Grandma," Zachary chimed in on seeing her insistence. "The coach has important duties to perform for our national team. So, we can't delay him."

"Then I guess it's a goodbye, for now, coach," she said. "And thanks again for giving Zachary a ride here."

"He's one of the greatest football talents that I've ever come across." Coach Damata said, smiling. "So, it's always my pleasure to help him."

"Is that so?" Zachary's grandma questioned, turning towards him. "Are you as good as the coach says? How come I haven't seen you on TV?"

Zachary could only smile wryly at that since he knew that she was back into her teasing mode. He chose to ignore her and turned towards Coach Damata. "Thank you for everything. But I think you should make a move on it, or you'll be late."

"Okay then, Zachary," the coach replied. "Don't forget to call if you need anything. I'll also call you if there are any new developments with the national team."

"Okay, great."

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