The sun bled gold through the tinted windows of the black SUV, casting long shadows as it rolled past the chaotic yet vibrant streets of Nigeria's beating heart.
It was a quiet evening in Lagos.
Street vendors shouted over blaring horns, children chased battered footballs across dusty pavements, and murals of Samuel Moses, arms outstretched, eyes to the heavens, adorned walls like holy icons.
Inside, Sam sat quietly, head tilted toward the glass, one hand absently brushing the Golden Ball trophy beside him.
The weight of it felt unreal even now.
A week. Seven days since that fateful night at the MetLife Stadium. Seven days since he collapsed on the pitch, tears mixing with sweat, a hattrick not enough to stop Portugal from stealing the crown.
And yet, the world didn't care that Nigeria lost, because they had seen something transcendent.
The driver turned sharply into a private complex where a swarm of journalists swayed like a restless tide.
Cameras flashed. Shouts erupted. Security parted the chaos as Sam stepped out, dressed in a flowing white agbada that shimmered under the Lagos sun.
The roar that followed was deafening.
'Stay calm… stay calm'. Sam told himself. He smiled at the cameras.
He kept himself composed, typical of the quiet fire that had carried him from a forgotten corner of Nigeria to football's highest altar.
…
Inside the Studio.
The lights hit like spotlights on a grand stage.
Two leather chairs faced each other beneath a massive screen. And there, veteran journalist Tunde Adebayo sat opposite Sam, his pen tapping nervously against a notepad.
A man who had interviewed kings, icons, and presidents… and yet today, he looked reverent.
"Sam Moses," Tunde began, his voice low, deliberate," the boy from Abraka who conquered the world". He smiled.
"At just twenty years old, you've lifted the AFCON, the English Premier League, the Spanish La Liga, the UEFA Champions League, the CAF Champions League, and now you've returned from a World Cup final with the Golden Boot and Golden Ball awards".
"At just 20, you've scored 205 goals and given 124 assists, a combined 329 goal contributions in just 193 games".
"Some say you've already saved African football. Some call you…," he paused, a smile breaking across his face, "…the Football God".
The studio fell silent.
Sam adjusted the microphone on his lapel, a faint, knowing smile curving his lips. "Well, what can I say?" He chuckled. "I'm just a boy who never stopped chasing a ball," he said softly.
"But if we're talking about gods… maybe we should start at the beginning".
…
Flashback 1 – The Dust of Abraka.
The screen behind them flickered to life.
A red-dust pitch, goalposts made from crooked sticks, barefoot kids tearing across the ground as the sun baked everything in gold.
Sam's voice floated over the images.
"I grew up in Abraka. No boots. No academy. Just dreams and deflated balls. My first crowd was my best friend, Ian, laughing at his crazy friend who never stopped playing, my mama, and neighbors".
On the screen, a 10-year-old Sam, stick-thin and fierce-eyed, danced past older boys twice his size, leaving them stumbling in clouds of dust.
The ball, barely holding together, stayed glued to his foot like magic.
A neighbor's voice rang out from the footage.
"That thin-gboko never loses the ball!"
Laughter echoed in the background.
Sam smiled. "My mother once loved football too, till I got injured". He leaned on his chair, reminiscing. "It was a nightmare period for my family. That's when she hated football, and vehemently rejected me playing ever again".
"Honestly, I don't know how I managed to kick a ball again after all that, but here I am".
"I guess fate had something in store for you". The journalist said.
"Maybe you're right". Sam laughed.
He continued. "Football wasn't a game for me. It was freedom. Every nutmeg, every feint, every goal, it was like telling the world I existed".
…
Flashback 2 – Enyimba FC.
Footage shifted to a rain-soaked stadium.
Enyimba FC, Nigeria's local powerhouse club.
A 17-year-old Sam stood on the touchline, nervously adjusting slightly oversized boots as he got set to enter the pitch.
"They said I was too skinny. Too young. But on my debut…"
Crowd noise erupted as young Sam cut through defenders like a blade through silk, blasting a thunderbolt from range into the top corner.
The stadium exploded with roars.
"That goal changed everything," Sam narrated. "From that moment, and some more hard work and consistency, scouts started whispering my name. They said; maybe this boy is different".
…
Flashback 3 – Fulham's Miracle.
Footage shifted to misty London.
Snowflakes floated down as Sam walked into Craven Cottage, an 18-year-old Nigerian kid staring up at the Premier League lights.
He grinned. "They called it a gamble. A relegation battle. No one believed we could do anything".
"Well, they were right in my first season there, but not in the second".
The footage cut to… Fulham fans screaming as Sam scored in the rout against Manchester City on the final match day, inching them past Liverpool on goal difference as Fulham did the impossible.
It showed him running to the corner flag, arms wide, face lit with fearless joy. The joy of champions.
"By the end of that season," Sam's voice echoed, "Fulham, Fulham was the chant, we were Premier League champions for the first time in history".
"I wasn't just a boy from Abraka anymore. I was a storm England couldn't ignore nor stop anymore".
…
Flashback 4 – Barcelona and the Quadruple.
The screen filled with the dazzling lights of the Camp Nou.
FC Barcelona unveiled Sam to a thunderous crowd, banners reading 'Zinedine Sam' and 'El Genio Africano', meaning the African genius.
"They said: one season wonder. But Barcelona…," he smiled. "Barcelona was where I felt alive".
Clips rolled:
Sam weaving past three defenders, smashing home from 30 yards; a looping assist in El Clasico that silenced the Bernabeu, a hattrick in the UEFA Champions League, and then the trophy lifting as fans chanted his name.
"In my first season," Sam said, "we won everything; La Liga, Copa del Rey, Champions League, Super Cup. They said it couldn't be done. We made it look easy".
…
Flashback 5 – AFCON Glory.
Green and white flags filled the screen.
Lagos streets flooded with millions celebrating.
"With Nigeria," Sam said, pride in his voice, "it wasn't about proving doubters wrong. It was about making Africa proud".
A highlight reel showed him tearing through defenses at AFCON, scoring clutch goals at critical moments, celebrating in enigmatic ways, tears streaming as teammates swarmed him.
"That trophy," Sam whispered, "felt like bringing home a piece of our destiny".
…
Flashback 6 – The World Cup Final.
Finally, the screen shifted to the World Cup. MetLife Stadium. Floodlights like suns lit the stage.
"Nobody thought Nigeria would reach the final," Sam said.
Crowds gasped as clips showed his hat trick against Canada in the final group stage game, his crazy run through the knockout stages, then the final.
It showed his opener against Portugal, a venomous shot from range. It showed his solo run for the 2nd, and the stunning curler that followed.
And then the epic free kick in the dying stages that brought Nigeria to the brink of history…
But the screen froze on Portugal's late counter.
"We lost," Sam admitted quietly. "But the world finally saw… Africa can produce the best. And I'll carry that torch until it burns through every ceiling they try to place over us".
…
Back in the studio, Tunde leaned forward, voice trembling.
"Sam, in a single year, you've achieved what legends spend lifetimes chasing. Where does a man go from here?"
Sam's gaze hardened, a quiet storm brewing behind his eyes.
"This," he said, voice dropping to a near whisper that carried like thunder, "is just the first chapter".
"Gods aren't born, they're forged," he grinned. "And I'm not done forging my legacy. Not when that boy, Yamal, is still balling". He laughed.
The studio erupted in applause.
Outside, Lagos roared his name, their voices rolling like a tidal wave. And in that moment, the world understood.
Samuel Moses wasn't a fleeting star. He was destiny in motion.