Weeks passed, and Mkhize spent every free moment at the field observing Thabo. He noticed subtle improvements in the boy's game: sharper passes, quicker decision-making, and more confidence in front of goal. Every detail went into Mkhize's notebook a record not just of talent, but of potential waiting to be unlocked.
One afternoon, Thabo finally glanced at Mkhize with a spark of curiosity. "You know, I never thought someone would watch me like this… and actually take notes," he said, dribbling past a small cone.
Mkhize smiled. "I'm learning. And you… you've got something special. One day, the right coach or team will see it too."
Thabo's eyes brightened. "You really think so?"
"I don't just think it," Mkhize replied. "I know it. You just need the right guidance."
For the first time, Mkhize realized that his efforts were making a difference. This wasn't about a license, or Kaizer Chiefs, or even the notebook. This was about helping someone grow, even before he could officially scout.
But as small victories came, new challenges emerged. A bigger club in the area had noticed Thabo's talent, and their coach began trying to recruit him aggressively. Offers were made, promises of exposure, training, and fast tracks to professional academies.
Mkhize's heart tightened. He didn't have a license, and he wasn't in a position to offer Thabo those things yet. But he knew he couldn't let fear or jealousy control him. He had to stay true to his purpose: guiding, observing, and preparing Thabo for the right opportunities.
One evening, after another training session, Mkhize wrote in his notebook:
"Small successes are steps toward the dream. Thabo's growth proves it. But challenges will always follow. I must stay patient, stay honest, and be ready for the right moment. My time will come."
He closed the notebook and looked out over the city lights. Each glowing window, each quiet street, reminded him of how far he had to go but also how far he had already come.