Psalms 63 vs 5 - You, (God), satisfy me more than the richest feast

As schools were about to open, I had a basketball and volleyball tournament scheduled. However, instead of looking forward to it I found myself dreading the thought of having to participate. It was a stressful time since I had barely gotten my life in order for school, and now I had to go for sports. On the day of the tournament, I got off the bus and made my way towards the school. I was dressed in my tracksuit and sports attire, carrying my duffel bag filled with food and other essentials. Despite feeling overwhelmed, I put on a brave face and tried to focus on the games ahead.

"Hey girl!"

I vividly remember my dear friend, Michelle Savado - the school tomboy who was also our basketball captain. I had immense admiration and respect for her. Her fierce demeanor was something I loved about her, and her brown curly mane that cascaded slightly below her shoulders was absolutely stunning. I too sported a similar hairstyle, with my curly hair tied up in a ponytail and a bold neon green band accentuating my hairline. Her skin tone was a rich milk chocolate with dark spots, which she proudly wore. Her lips were full and shapely, complemented by her small nose and brown eyes that had an Asian influence.

I have known this amazing girl since fifth grade. Over the years, we have been great friends, but our different friend groups prevented us from being the closest of friends. She used to be a girly girl, a fan of pink, dresses and heels, but by the end of second year of high school, she had transformed into a confident tomboy. She learned to accept her slim body and decided to wear baggy clothes to avoid comparing herself to others. Her experience was truly inspiring and taught me a lot about self-confidence and self-love.

"Hey hun! How you doing," I exclaimed back with the same enthusiasm as I walked closer to her wide open arms.

"I'm just ready to whoop some butt," she said her arms around me and I reciprocated, my arms around her waist giving a tight squeeze. "And even better with my partner in crime and sister along with me."

"Some butt...," I repeated.

"Some butt."

Even though we may not have been the closest of friends, we were still like sisters. Sisters who may have had different parents, but shared a special bond nonetheless.

"Now girl go wear your b-ball kit already. The bus about to leave soon and you busy gallavanting school like some Queen."

"Excuse me but I am a queen. And this queen is going to make us win the tournament."

"I see you. Bet."

"Fifty bucks and caramel ice cream if I get my hands on a trophy."

"Done mother fatherr," she smirked shaking hands with mine.

"Done."

As I prepared myself for a basketball game, I made my way towards my closet to change into my black and white sports kit. I carefully tied my hair into a high ponytail, taking extra care to ensure that every strand was in place. I ran my fingers through my hair, admiring its voluminous and wavy texture - something that I had always been proud of. To complete my look, I put on some lipgloss to add a touch of glamour and added a black band to my hairline to keep stray hairs away from my face.

As I boarded the navy blue and white bus, I was filled with excitement to start our journey to St Ignatius High. I quickly grabbed a seat close to the window and watched as our coach, Coach G, entered the bus. We all joined hands in prayer, seeking safety and guidance on our journey.

The bus ride was filled with laughter, singing, and joyous war cries. We were a group of Africans, and our war cries were a reflection of our heritage, full of energy and excitement. We clapped our hands in unison, stomped our feet on the floor, and sang songs of our homeland, feeling proud of our culture.

As we approached the school, Michelle started singing the popular song "Felicia," and the energy in the bus skyrocketed. We all joined in, singing at the top of our lungs, and the excitement was so contagious that Coach G had to shout to get us to calm down.

Upon arrival, I noticed that we weren't the only school present at the sporting event. Our rivals from Lincoln High and St. Joans Academy were also in attendance. As we disembarked from our bus, I couldn't help but take in the beauty of St. Ignatius, a grand institution with towering buildings and state-of-the-art technology at every turn. The school grounds were adorned with verdant green bushes, and large screens affixed to the buildings displayed important announcements. The campus was a sea of vibrant colors, with flowers of every hue dotting the landscape. The walls of the buildings were painted in a soft cream color, complementing the greenery beautifully. Towering trees cast a serene forest-like atmosphere over the campus, and I found myself enraptured by the tranquility of it all.

As we reached the sports field, Michelle let out a sharp whistle before turning to me with a look of awe on her face.

"I can't believe how handsome these boys are. It's almost unfair," she said with a hint of frustration in her voice. "I'm worried that their looks might just distract me from the game."

As we stood in the middle of a vast field, I couldn't help but laugh at my friend's joke. We were on our way to the basketball court, which was situated at a distance. Despite the presence of boys from Ignatius, who had come to cheer for or rival school, Lincoln High, we continued on our path, determined to play our best. As I stepped onto the court, I felt a sudden surge of energy coursing through my body. My eyes darted across the court, taking in the crowd of girls and boys, and I made a mental note of the players I needed to avoid.

I took a seat on the wooden bench, trying to focus on Coach G's words. But my mind wandered elsewhere, and I couldn't help but notice a boy in a green and black basketball uniform. He appeared to be the same boy Eva had mentioned as Nianna's boyfriend. The boy sat nearby, a wide grin on his face as he chatted with his friend. I observed him more closely, noticing that his smile was strikingly beautiful and infectious.

Ohhh myy days-

"Who are you staring at?" Michelle asked, pulling my pony tail.

"No one." I replied

" You know you can tell me if there is an extremely handsome boy out there right? Well admire him together. Let me start. Let's talk about Mr Alejandro Chile over there."

'Who's that?' I asked as I looked back at him from across the court. It took me a moment to realize the familiarity of the name and face. The guy I had been admiring was Alejandro Jacob Chile, son of Maria Chile, a renowned model in the Hispanic community, and Jose Chile, a world-famous actor. I couldn't believe I hadn't recognized him earlier.

"Are you kidding, only the crush of everyone in the city," she replied pointing at him discreetly. "Rumour has it, he's being scouted by NBA. I'm not shocked, he's very good at basketball. Extremely."

As he turned his head towards me, I became acutely aware of my own gaze and quickly shifted my attention to Michelle, who was still talking. I hoped that he didn't notice me staring at him. In that moment, Michelle caught my eye and returned my glance, prompting me to fight the urge to smile. "It's crucial that we emerge victorious in these games,"

"Excuse me English girl," she laughed. "Definitely. I didn't come here to embarrass myself na. Dem go slap dem team well well."

Michelle had a habit of switching to pidgin English whenever I tended to over-exaggerate my words. I found this amusing because I could understand that my mother was of mixed heritage - she had a British and Nigerian background.

The much-awaited sports matches finally kicked off with a thrilling face-off between St Ignatius and St. Joan's Academy, two of the most renowned boy schools in the region. The teams present all in all were the Panthers (my school),  Swish(St Ignatius), fusion(St Jonas), and Slammers(Lincoln High). As usual, the majority of the big games were either held at St. Ignatius school's sprawling sports grounds or at the ATS Catholic Sports Centre, which boasted the largest sports facilities in all of Toronto. The latter was the preferred choice for derbies and high-stakes matches involving many private schools, owing to its wide and well-maintained playing fields.

As the first set of five players was chosen, Alejandro stood up from his seat, running a hand through his curly hair in anticipation. Walking onto the court, I couldn't help but notice the glint of a gold chain hanging around his neck, adding a touch of sophistication to his overall appearance. His black cat Jordan 4s and matching Nike socks only added to his cool and collected vibe, making him stand out from the rest of the players.

As soon as the referee blew the whistle and tossed the ball into the air, a player leaped up to catch it. He then swiftly threw it to his teammate who skillfully dribbled it down the court, passing it on to yet another player. The ball was expertly maneuvered between teammates before one of them made an impressive layup, following through with a smooth finish.

Michelle cheered beside me as I looked around, I could see the faces of the excited crowd and the teammates on the bench erupting with joyous cheers. I noticed Alejandro enthusiastically high-fiving his friend, a grin spreading across his face as he mouthed the words "too easy".

Alejandro's remarkable performance in the game had everyone on the edge of their seats. His incredible dunks and flawless three-pointers were earning his team points in quick succession. Amidst all the exhilaration, I noticed him briefly glance in my direction, almost as if he had acknowledged my presence. However, I couldn't be sure if it was just my imagination playing tricks on me.

As the game progressed, a St. Joan player grew increasingly frustrated with their team's losing streak and decided to defend against Alejandro. In response, Alejandro shoved him away, causing him to fall to the ground. In the process, I couldn't help but notice Alejandro's leg twisting ever so slightly, and I winced internally. The crowd erupted in shouts of 'foul,' and the referee had to stop the game.

Alejandro was asked to do a free throw, but as he got up, I saw him wince, revealing that he was in considerable pain. Despite trying to hide his discomfort, Alejandro powered through, made the free throw, and immediately asked his coach if he could take a break. He sat down, but without him, the team struggled to achieve much. Inevitably, Alejandro ended up back on the court, dribbling with his sore leg but still managing to secure a win for his team. When the game finally ended, everyone was in awe of Alejandro's remarkable performance.

As Coach G started picking girls for the female match, I turned to Michelle."Isn't he Nianna's boyfriend?"

"Who? Alejandro?" I nodded and she shook her head. "He's way out of her league."

As I stepped onto the court, I felt a sense of purpose. I had been chosen to play in this game, and I was determined to give it my all. Making my way to the top of the key, I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. I didn't pray as I used to, not since the day I asked the Lord to keep my beloved grandfather safe and my prayer went unanswered. Instead, I closed my eyes briefly, allowing my mind to wander back to the countless times I played basketball with my cousins and my grandfather. The memory filling my brain...

*
"Mama I want to play basketball."

I saw my mother wince before looking at 7-year-old me standing before her.

"Why flame, can't you play another sport?" she had asked.

"I want to play basketball. I saw Michelle playing it, though she's not perfect and I want to be like her." I replied.

"Adara no. What about swimming? Or hockey, they are far less harmless-"

"I want to play basketball though!"

*

"Justin pass the ball already, you've been keeping it all to yourself."

"Come get it then."

"If you don't pass it I'm telling Grandpa." 12-year-old me folded my arms while Joey came to side me.

As Justin kept hogging the basketball without any intention of passing it to anyone, I became frustrated and decided to take matters into my own hands. I sprinted all the way to my grandfather and dragged him along to our backyard basketball court to tell on Justin's selfish behavior.

Despite some initial tension and exchanging of angry words between Justin and myself, we eventually decided to put our differences aside and play a friendly match together. The four of us had a blast and enjoyed a great game of basketball.
*

The shrill sound of the whistle jolted me back to reality, and my heart started pounding with adrenaline as I caught the ball and began dribbling it toward the hoop. I had already made a mental note to avoid certain players on the opposing team, so whenever they came near me, I quickly pivoted away, never letting them get a chance at stealing the ball from my grasp. My dunking skills were not great, but I made up for it with follow-throughs and free throws, especially since Lincoln was playing aggressively. As we were nearing the end of the game, I was in the middle of a layup when suddenly I felt myself being pushed down onto the court floor with a forceful impact. My head hit the ground hard, and anger surged through me, but before I could do anything, Michelle stepped in and shoved the girl who had pushed me, Khanya, away while sizing her up. Thankfully, some of my teammates came to my aid and helped me up, and I started to calm down once the referee intervened.

As I stood at the free throw line, I couldn't help but feel dizzy and unfocused. The fall had triggered my poor eyesight, making it even harder for me to focus on the hoop. With one point needed to win against Lincoln high, my team was depending on me. As I bounced the ball for the first time, I could hear the crowd's anticipation. I took a deep breath and prepared to throw, but my first attempt ended in failure. The sighs of sadness from the crowd only added to my already mounting pressure. I bounced the ball once more, trying to clear my head and regain my focus. Finally, I moved up to the line and let my hand follow through after the ball. As it left my hand, my heart was pounding in my chest. The ball landed on the rim and went around it, almost tipping over and away from the net. But then, to my relief, it somehow found its way into the hoop. The crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and boos as the game ended, and I couldn't help but feel grateful that I had managed to pull through for my team.

Michelle jumped on me. "Ehe, madame Adara. That was amazing girl!"

"Thank you,"I smiled as the rest of my teammates came for a group hug and we put our hands together before throwing them in the air, the word 'panthers' escaping our mouths in a loud chorus.

We stood in a line and shook the hands of our rival school as the other schools and the crowd interacted farther off. And my anger rose when I saw Khanya. She had that smug smile and I wanted to wipe it off her face so badly. And a voice inside me told me I could, and I should, and I did. I slapped her face hard, immediately feeling conviction but I ignored it, further pulling her hair when she attempted to reach for mine. The girls rounded us, trying to stop the fight but cheering as well.

Black people.

As Michelle forcefully pulled us apart, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction that she had finally received her punishment for what she had done. However, deep down, my soul was unsettled. It was as if a part of me wanted to go back in time and do it all over again just so that I could remove that feeling of unease.

As the coaches approached us, my teammates immediately came to my defense, placing all the blame on Khanya for starting the altercation. They refused to give her a chance to explain herself, and her coach ended up suspending her from the team.

With her arm around my shoulder, Michelle led me over to the food table where I grabbed an orange and started peeling it aggressively, trying to calm my nerves and quiet my thoughts.

"Girl has some nerve shoving me to the ground."

"Calm down, it's over." she encouraged, "but next time, no fights."

I smiled bitterly, "Exercising your captain duties huh,"

"I'm serious Adara."

I internally rolled my eyes as she came to hug me for comfort. Slapping her should have made me feel better, but why was I so convicted about it?

Coach G gathered us together to monitor our behavior, ensuring that we wouldn't wander around the school and engage in conversations with the boys. It was the standard protocol - never interact with boys while in our school uniforms. I was seated at the top of the bench, idly playing on my phone as people returned for the final matches. Once Coach G departed, Michelle joined me on the bench, and a boy from Ignatius, Khalil, approached from beneath the layered bench and greeted Michelle with a handshake that showed she knew him.

"Wassup Kaley kale,"

"Nothing much, fancy seeing you here Mish," he winked and my focus went back to my phone.

"I wouldn't miss basketball for the world," she laughed, "Also wanted to see you."

They fell into silence, and I began to think that he had left. Just as I was about to say something to Michelle, she got up took a foil from her bag, and mentioned that she was heading to the restroom. I gave her a skeptical look, but she reassured me with a gentle squeeze of my hand. I knew what she was going to do.

Michelle, being older than me, always seemed to know exactly how to act around me. She had a knack for balancing maturity with wildness, though she tended to lean towards the wild side. Whenever I tried to join in on her fun, she effortlessly put me in my place, reminding me of my youth and inexperience. It's almost as if she was scared to let me be a part of her fun, like it was not a life she wanted for me. While my mother had been a role model to me in my younger years, she gradually let go of my grandfather's memory, moving forward with her life. I, on the other hand, struggled to move on and put on a facade of happiness while feeling like I was falling into a deep, dark hole. In contrast, Michelle exuded a carefree vibe, spending late nights partying and effortlessly attracting admirers, making her life seem effortlessly smooth.

I wanted that, maybe it would satisfy me. But Michelle would never allow me to, and I respected her. So I watched as she excused herself to Coach G and made her way to the school buildings and surely enough, Khalil followed after.

*

That evening, my mother went to the hospital with Benji and I was left alone. But I didn't feel alone.

I was in my room, carefully folding my clothes and organizing my school supplies for the upcoming week. I wanted to make sure I was fully prepared and in the right mindset before the school gates opened on Tuesday.

There have been numerous occasions when my mom had to leave me alone because I refused to have a babysitter, and I usually managed just fine. However, today was different. I had an eerie feeling that someone was watching me. The house was so quiet that my breathing felt deafening, as if every exhale would shatter the silence and reveal my fear.

Until I had a voice, "Adara"

I was the only person in the house, and I could feel my heart rate increasing. As I glanced around my room, I began to question whether I had properly secured the doors and windows. I hurried through the house, meticulously checking for any possible entry points and closing them. But the voice, so small as a whisper, floating around the air kept calling my name.

"Adara."

I started to feel worried and quickly grabbed my phone, house keys, and car keys, getting ready to leave the house. Suddenly, the voice seemed to enter my mind and fill my ears.

"Adara, why have you forsaken me?"

As my hand hesitated on the handle of the front door, I felt a shiver of confusion. What was that sound I just heard? Could it be ghosts? Or was it the voice of my late grandfather? Despite the eerie feeling, I left the house, securing it with a lock before getting into my car and driving out of the compound. My destination was Michelle's house, as I knew she might have something to assist me in this mysterious situation.

When I reached the quaint little house that her father had purchased for her, I rapped on the door. It took her a while to open it, and when she did, her eyes were red and she seemed half-awake. However, upon seeing me, a frown creased her brow.

"Adara? What are you doing here?" she asked closing her door as she stepped outside.

"Look, I'm not young. I'm turning 17, and I want to be in what you do."

She rolled her eyes, "Adara go home-"

"No! Please, Mish. I- I really want to. If you teach me then I won't be reliant on you afterwards."

"Why do you want to do what I do? You're miss perfect Adara-"

"-I'm not."

"Rich, wealthy, living luxuriously. And your mother would kill me if she found out"

"-She won't."

Michelle stood in front of me, her piercing gaze locking with mine. Slowly, she turned away and made her way to the door, pushing it open. My heart raced as I half-expected her to slam it shut in my face, just like she always did ever since after my 14th birthday, when I caught her inhaling a white powder she claimed was sherbet. I knew better.

But she didn't, instead, she opened it wider and allowed me into her home.

Immediately the stench of vomit and alcohol filled my lungs and I coughed. She patted my back! "If you're serious about this, you have to be strong. You can't be weak."

The lights in her house were neon pink and blue and there were two boys passed out on her couch, their noses white. She led me to her kitchen where a few other people were there. I almost panicked, if they recognized me they'd report to the media. My mom would find out, and worse my grandmother.

But they looked drunk out of their minds so I calmed down. Michelle led me to the table and lent me a straw. "I'll show you how to use it."

The same voice I ran away from came back, ringing in my ears. "Adara."

A sign that I was at the wrong place.

"Adara, go home."

A warning that I was endangering myself.

"Adara, why have you forsaken me."

The persistent feeling of conviction had been occurring frequently lately. My intuition told me it was a message from God, as he often spoke in a gentle, quiet voice. However, my human desires reminded me that I felt abandoned by God initially, so I ended up following Michelle's guidance instead.

I coughed so violently that my chest ached, my nose itching and my vision blurring. At that moment, Michele's expression turned smug, a wicked glint in her eye. But I ignored it, feeling myself floating and satisfied.

But with the desires of the flesh, I would never be satisfied enough.