CHAPTER ONE : Concrete Dreams
The sun blazed over Ajegunle, Lagos, turning the cracked concrete pitch into a furnace. But that didn't stop Damilare "Dare" Ayoola, 13 years old, bare-footed, sweat soaking his shirt, from dancing with the ball like it was glued to his toes.
"Dare, pass jare!" shouted Wasiu, his hot-headed teammate.
Dare didn't hear him — or pretended not to. A quick feint, a body swerve, then nutmeg. The older boy defending him was left staring at empty space. The crowd of boys around the pitch exploded.
"Ah! Messi of Aje!"
Dare smiled, but deep down he wasn't playing for the cheers. He was playing for something else — escape.
Home was a cramped one-room apartment with his mother, two siblings, and a pile of unpaid bills. His father, once a promising mechanic, had left three years ago chasing jobs in Port Harcourt — and never came back.
THAT EVENING.
Dare lay on the floor mat, legs aching, watching highlights of a Champions League match on a neighbor's cracked TV through the window bars. He didn't care who was playing. It was the turf. The lights. The crowd. He wanted to be there.
Not in a year. Now.
THE UNEXPECTED CHANCE.
The next morning, after skipping school to play in a "winner-stays-on" street tournament near Mile 2, a man in a tracksuit tapped him on the shoulder.
"You're not normal," the man said.
Dare blinked. "Sorry, sir?"
"I mean your feet. They speak another language."
The man handed him a card.
Coach Olayemi – Lagos Stars Football Academy.
"I want you at our open trial next Saturday."
Dare stared at the card like it was a ticket to heaven. But something in him said, This is just the beginning.
CHAPTER TWO : First Touch of Destiny
The gates of Lagos Stars Football Academy loomed ahead like the entrance to another world. Dare stood frozen for a second, gripping the strap of his nylon bag. He had borrowed his friend's knock-off Nike boots — a size too small — and wore his only decent T-shirt.
A long queue of boys in crisp sportswear and polished boots stretched down the compound. Some were joking. Some were stretching. All of them looked like they belonged.
Dare felt like an intruder.
"You there! Last boy at the back!" a bald coach barked. "Get moving!"
He shuffled into line, heart thudding. It wasn't just excitement. It was pressure. If he failed here, there would be no second chance.
THE TRIAL BEGINS
Two hours in, 100 boys had been narrowed down to 40.
Dare hadn't touched the ball yet. He had been stuck in the "observation group" — running sprints, doing push-ups, warming up in silence. Coach Olayemi was watching from the sidelines, eyes like a hawk, jotting notes.
"Group B, in. Let's see who's got real feet."
Dare finally stepped onto the pitch. The turf wasn't real grass, but it was flat. No potholes. No rusty iron poles as goalposts. He felt like he had stepped into a dream.
They played six-a-side, fifteen minutes.
First touch: miscontrolled.
Second touch: intercepted.
Third touch — magic.
A defender charged. Dare stopped the ball mid-dribble, froze, then flicked it behind with a smooth Elastico. The coach's clipboard paused mid-air.
"Number 32," one assistant whispered. "That boy from Ajegunle?"
MAKING HIS MARK
By the second match, Dare was in rhythm. Nutmegs. One-touch passes. A low shot into the corner from outside the box. One assist. One goal. Calm under pressure.
Other players started giving him space — not out of respect, but intimidation.
He had made his mark.
FINAL SELECTION
They called out 15 names. Dare was number fourteen.
He nearly didn't hear it over the roar in his chest. His knees buckled. He didn't jump. He didn't scream. He just looked up at the Lagos sun and whispered:
"Thank You."
Coach Olayemi approached him as the crowd of rejected players slowly dispersed.
"You've got wild fire, boy. But fire can burn a house down or cook a king's meal. Your choice."
Dare nodded silently.
BACK HOME
That night, his mother cried silently while frying puff-puff for sale the next morning.
"You start Monday?" she asked.
Dare nodded again.
She smiled faintly. "Make sure you don't forget where you come from."
He didn't answer. Instead, he gently pulled the card from his pocket again.
Lagos Stars Academy – Full Scholarship.
It was real. It was happening.
He lay on the floor later that night, staring at the zinc ceiling, whispering to himself:
"This is the first step."
CHAPTER THREE : Life at the Academy
The academy smelled like wet grass, sweat, and fresh paint. For Dare Ayoola, it might as well have been heaven.
"Pick your bunk, and no fighting over it," snapped Coach Olayemi as he led the five new recruits into Dormitory B. "You're not superstars yet. Humble yourselves."
Dare dropped his small bag at the bottom bunk near the window. The room buzzed with nervous energy — peeling walls, four double bunks, ceiling fan rattling like it might fall at any moment. A small locker for personal belongings. Bare minimum.
Still better than home.
"Yo," said the boy on the top bunk above him, reaching down a hand. "Wole. Abuja."
"Dare. Aje," he said with a shy smile.
"Ah! Na streetballers dey wreck defenders pass," Wole laughed. "You dey alright. I saw you nutmeg that tall guy at trials."
Dare smiled, surprised at the warmth. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he thought.
FIRST TRAINING SESSION
At 5:00 a.m. sharp, a whistle sliced through Dare's dreams.
"Out! In ten minutes. Jerseys on, boots laced. Latecomers run laps!" a voice thundered from outside.
Dare scrambled out of bed, wiped sleep from his eyes, and dressed in record time. The other boys were already stretching in neat rows under the dim light of dawn.
"Discipline is our foundation!" Coach Olayemi barked. "Talent is secondary. If you don't obey, you don't play."
They ran drills for over an hour — sprint tests, cone work, passing under pressure, press-and-cover shape drills. Dare struggled to keep up.
By the time they stopped, his shirt clung to his body, and his lungs burned.
THE FIRST CLASH
Later that afternoon, during an inter-squad match, Dare found himself paired up with Timi Adebayo — the academy's star forward. Tall, muscular, slick-faded hair, and shiny new boots. He was the poster boy for the Lagos Stars Instagram page.
"Watch yourself, local boy," Timi muttered as they lined up. "One viral clip don't mean you're special."
Dare didn't respond. He let his feet do the talking.
In the 8th minute, he dispossessed Timi with a clean tackle and launched a perfect through ball. His team scored. The small group of assistant coaches clapped lightly.
Timi wasn't used to being outshone.
Minutes later, Timi lunged at Dare during a 50-50 — catching his ankle.
"Ah!" Dare dropped, wincing.
"You good?" Wole ran over.
Coach Olayemi blew his whistle and walked over slowly.
"Timi, off. Now."
"What? It was just—"
"Out!"
As Timi stomped off the pitch, he shot Dare a glare that said this isn't over.
THAT NIGHT
In the dorm, Dare opened his locker to find his only boots sliced with a razor. Neatly. Silently. Destroyed.
Wole looked up from his bed. "Who did that?"
Dare just stared at the cut leather.
"Don't worry," Wole said. "Boots no play ball. You do."
That night, Dare taped his boots back together with electrical tape. They looked like trash.
But the next morning, he laced them up, stepped onto the pitch, and trained like he had a point to prove.
Because he did.
The academy was survival.
And Dare Ayoola didn't come this far to be average.
CHAPTER FOUR : The Cost of a Dream
The sun was setting when Coach Olayemi dismissed them from training. Dare walked slowly toward the dorms, dragging his taped boots and damp jersey. His legs ached, but it was a good kind of pain — the kind that told you progress was being made.
Still, something tugged at him. A kind of silence that didn't come from exhaustion — but from home.
He hadn't called Mama in five days.
THE PHONE CALL
He borrowed Wole's phone after lights-out, stepping outside to the academy's concrete walkway. Crickets chirped in the bushes nearby.
The line rang once. Twice. Then a tired voice picked up.
"Hello?" Mama's voice sounded older, stretched thin.
"Mama... it's me. Dare."
Silence.
Then: "Dare. My son."
Something inside him tightened.
"I'm sorry I haven't called."
"It's okay," she said gently. "I've been... managing."
"Work nko?"
There was a pause.
"I lost the salon job," she admitted. "Rent is due next week, but... don't worry. God will make a way."
Dare clenched his jaw. The guilt hit hard. He was chasing this dream, eating three meals a day, while Mama was back in Ajegunle boiling water for garri.
"I'll make it, Mama. I swear. I'll send money. I'll—"
"No, no," she cut in. "Your job is to become something. Don't come back here empty-handed."
Her voice cracked.
"I believe in you."
THE WEIGHT OF IT ALL
That night, Dare lay awake long after Wole started snoring above him.
His body was here — but his mind was back in that single-room apartment. He could see Mama's tired eyes, his little sister Temi's worn sandals, the cracked pot in the kitchen.
What if I fail? he thought.
He had no backup plan. No rich uncle. No plan B. Just football.
ON THE PITCH
The next day, Dare played like a man possessed.
Every drill, he outpaced the rest. Every scrimmage, he moved like he had fire in his blood. Coaches started taking note. Even Timi, still bitter but watching closely, couldn't deny it.
"Whoever lit that boy on fire, I need some," one assistant muttered on the sideline.
Coach Olayemi, arms folded, just nodded.
AT DINNER
In the mess hall, Dare barely touched his food. Wole nudged him.
"You alright?"
Dare nodded.
"You're playing like your life depends on it."
Dare looked up, eyes steady.
"Because it does."
That night, Dare wrote three words on the last page of his old school notebook and taped it inside his locker door:
"No going back."
Then he shut the door, lay down on his bunk, and finally slept.
Because from that moment on, there was only one way left: forward.
CHAPTER FIVE :
Chapter Five: Breakthrough Performance
The announcement came like thunder during breakfast.
"Lagos Stars will host a friendly match this Saturday against the Ajax U15 Youth Squad," Coach Olayemi said. "We'll select a match-day team by Friday."
The cafeteria went silent. Forks stopped mid-air. Eyes widened.
Ajax.
One of the biggest youth academies in the world. The kind that plucks African diamonds and polishes them into world-class stars. Every boy in the room knew what that meant: opportunity.
---
💬 The Buzz
"Bro, if I ball on Saturday, it's over," Timi bragged as they walked out. "I'm getting signed. I'm due for Europe."
Dare stayed quiet, focused. He wasn't the loudest, but deep inside, he wanted it more than anyone.
That afternoon, during training, he ran with purpose. Every pass was crisp. Every touch clean. He tackled like his life was on the line.
Coach Olayemi noticed. So did the assistants.
---
📋 The Team Sheet
On Friday evening, the team list was pinned to the dormitory wall.
Starting XI – Lagos Stars vs Ajax U15
GK: Joshua Akinsanya
CB: Nnamdi Chukwuemeka
CB:Lateef Haasan
LB: Andrew Wellington
RB:Ademidun Praise
DM:Samuel Emmanuel
CM: Wole
AM:Bala Muhammad
LW: Dare Ayoola
RW:William Adewole
ST: Timi Adebayo
Dare stared at his name, frozen.
He was starting.
MATCH DAY
The academy pitch had never been this packed. Scouts, parents, agents, even a few journalists from Lagos sports radio had gathered.
The Ajax players warmed up in matching kits, moving like clockwork.
"They're organized," Wole whispered. "This is serious."
"Good," Dare replied. "Let's give them a reason to remember us."
FIRST HALF
The game kicked off fast. Ajax controlled the midfield with short passes, pressing high. Dare barely touched the ball for the first ten minutes.
Then — a loose ball on the wing.
He sprinted to it, cut inside, and drew two defenders. Quick flick to Wole, who returned it. Dare exploded down the flank and delivered a low cross.
Goal.
Timi tapped it in. 1–0.
The crowd erupted.
Dare didn't celebrate. He pointed to Wole. Then turned to defend.
SECOND HALF – THE MOMENT
In the 70th minute, it was 1–1.
Wole got fouled outside the box. Dare stepped up. The ref blew the whistle.
He took two deep breaths.
One step. Two. Curl.
The ball sailed over the wall and dipped — smashing off the underside of the bar and into the net.
2–1.
The stadium lost it.
SOMEONE WAS WATCHING
A tall man in a grey suit turned to Coach Olayemi after the match.
"That boy on the left wing," he said with a light Dutch accent. "Ayoola, right?"
Olayemi nodded.
"Very... interesting. I'll be in touch."
VIRAL
That evening, a fan's TikTok of Dare's freekick went viral across Nigerian sports Twitter. The caption read:
"Na from here Messi start oh #DareAyoola"
Dare didn't know about the video.
He was sitting outside the dorms, alone, ball at his feet, staring up at the stars.
He whispered to himself:
"They saw me. Finally."
But this time, it wasn't just Ajegunle watching.
It was the world.
CHAPTER SIX : ---
📘 Against the Odds
Chapter Six: Trouble at the Top
The week after the Ajax match felt like a dream.
Everywhere Dare walked, eyes followed.
Boys whispered. Coaches nodded.
Even Coach Olayemi, usually reserved, clapped him on the back during drills.
But not everyone was clapping.
---
😠 Changing Tides
Timi Adebayo sat alone on his bunk, scrolling through Instagram.
Another post.
Another highlight of Dare's freekick.
Dare Ayoola: Lagos's Next Big Thing.
He threw his phone onto the mattress and muttered, "Freekick merchant."
For Timi, it wasn't jealousy — it was fear.
He had always been the golden boy of Lagos Stars.
Now, the spotlight was shifting.
---
🏋️ Intensity at Training
That week's sessions became intense.
Every drill turned into a silent duel.
Timi would shove Dare off the ball.
Dare would respond with a clean nutmeg.
Wole noticed it. So did the coaches.
One morning, during a scrimmage, Timi came in late with a tackle.
Too late.
Dare hit the ground, clutching his ankle.
The field fell silent.
Coach Olayemi stormed in.
"Timi, out!"
"It was a clean tackle!" he snapped.
"Don't argue with me!"
Timi walked off, but not before glaring at Dare, who was being helped up.
---
💬 Words After Dark
That night, Wole pulled Dare aside outside the dorm.
"You have to watch him."
"I'm not scared of Timi," Dare replied.
"You should be. Envy is dangerous, bro."
Dare sighed. "I didn't come here to fight boys. I came here to fight poverty."
They sat in silence under the pale moonlight.
Then Wole said something Dare would never forget:
> "The higher you go, the more snakes hide in the grass."
---
📨 The Invitation
Three days later, Coach Olayemi handed Dare a sealed envelope.
It was an invitation — to a youth showcase tournament in Abuja.
Scouts from European clubs would attend.
Only two Lagos Stars players were selected.
Dare
Timi
---
✈️ Departure
At the airport, they didn't speak.
Dare stared out the plane window, headphones in.
Timi scrolled his phone, jaw clenched.
This wasn't just a trip.
It was a silent war.
And the world was about to watch.