The salty tang of the Indian Ocean, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore, and the joyful shouts of children as these were the sounds that had accompanied Amani's morning. The day after his emotional arrival and the unsettling echoes of his past life, he had sought solace and a semblance of normalcy in the familiar embrace of the beach.
He'd joined a spirited game of beach football with some local youths, their bare feet kicking up sprays of fine white sand as they chased a worn leather ball. For a few blissful hours, under the warm caress of the Kenyan sun, Amani had felt a lightness he hadn't realized he'd been missing.
The intricate politics of European club football, the weight of expectation, even the haunting whispers of his squandered past life, had momentarily receded. Here, he was just Amani, a young man reveling in the simple, pure joy of the game, the sand between his toes, the laughter of new friends echoing in the sea breeze.
