The missing ball

"I can’t take the ball home; my mom would scold me." I told Kola after the day’s football match. It was common for us in our final year of elementary school to stay back to play games after school, most especially football. Kola was among the few friends I had in school and lived in the same neighborhood. Although Kola and I were agemates at 11 years old, he was a little taller and had a bigger body build, making him look as though he were my older brother.

Playing football after school hours had become a routine, and students whose parents were not willing to pick up their children mostly stayed back to have fun. We had taxed ourselves and bought a ball, and that very day was one that we needed to enjoy the feel of the ball and play a little longer. We usually played without our school uniforms so that our parents would not scold us, and sometimes we had spare clothes in our schoolbags.

Unfortunately for us, we did not consider who would keep the new football we procured, and keeping it in the school compound was not an option.

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"Fine, but just for today!" I said it reluctantly after a series of arguments and evaluations on who the custodian of the football should be.

At this age, I was already washing my clothes and uniform by myself; nonetheless, I had to keep my uniform clean without letting out any suspicion of playing ball after school. I sneaked into the house with careful steps, ensuring my entry was unannounced and quiet.

The following morning, while I was preparing for work, I noticed the football was not in the place I had kept it. I had retrieved it from the schoolbag and kept it under my wooden bed. I knew my mother searched my schoolbag occasionally, and I was not ready to undergo a series of interrogations.

"Are you looking for something?" My mother asked when she noticed I was searching for something. "You’ll be late for school; hurry up." She continued, walking towards the kitchen to prepare my lunchbox. I stood in my room, dumbfounded and perplexed, wondering how the ball disappeared from my bag. My dad had traveled, and I was home alone with my mom and younger sister. My younger sister had denied seeing any ball or object, as I was careful not to disclose details, knowing fully well that she was her mother’s supplier of information.

"What do you mean our ball is missing?" Kola asked in similar perplexity.

"I kept it safe under my bed last night only to find it missing this morning." I tried to explain almost stammeringly, knowing full well that Kola and my other colleagues were disappointed. The implication was that there would be no football matches after school hours. My mood throughout school hours was unfriendly, and I tried as much as I could to apologize to my classmates for the disappointments.

My search resumed when I got home that very day. I returned early and practically turned the house upside down without any success. I checked places I had checked before, and my mind kept replaying the steps I took to keep the ball where I hid it.

Three days after my continuous search for the missing object, I concluded it was not in the house. I had become a shadow of myself. My younger sister had totally ignored me, and I was not hesitant to flare up at any slight provocation.

"Are you going to tell me what you are looking for? You have been acting awkward these past days." My mother asked me after school. "And I’m glad you have been coming home early too." She concluded with a touch of sarcasm.

"Nothing mom." I lied.

"Okay, then, continue with your nothing; make sure you wash your uniforms early and wash the dishes after." Mom stood up to walk into her room.

It's the ball I’ve been looking for." I confessed solemnly, though my heart beat was wild and erratic, scared of the rebuke I would receive from her. She turned and laughed loudly. At that moment, I had many questions, and eventually, one answer came: Mother took the ball.

"Have I not warned you not to bring home things I do not buy for you? If you asked me to buy you a ball, I could have, or maybe not. At least you should have asked me. I’ve dropped the ball back where you kept it." She replied and walked out of the sitting room. I ran to my room and checked under the bed, and relief flooded my mind to find the ball underneath. I picked up the ball and went to meet my mom. I apologized for my action. I expected her to scold me, but I was surprised she laughed over it instead, and I was glad for that.