Rayyan opened his eyes. Everything hurt. The world was a hue of twisting colours pricking his eyelids. He squeezed them shut.

“Rayyan beta.”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of the warm voice of his mother. Trying to rise up on one elbow, and saw his mother sitting on a chair next to his bed.

“Bed… what kind of bed it was?” he thought as he blinked and his surroundings drifted into focus. He was in a small brightly lit room. A cannula inserted in his hand led to a drip stand surrounded with numerous beeping machines. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

The events of the past few days came rushing back: a football match … his friends carrying him on their shoulders …, a shining trophy …, then slipping on the road and hearing the blaring of a horn ... and then nothing — only darkness.

Rayyan opened his eyes again slowly. He had remembered something else. Something he needed to not be true. His mother watched him in pain as he raised a shaking hand to the white sheet that covered his legs. With a shriek he collapsed back on the pillow for where just two days ago, there had been a leg, now only existed a little stump.

When the doctor came in he only asked one question, “How will I play football?”

Football was his life. He was the best player in his school team and had scored innumerable winning goals. He spent every free minute kicking a ball around. In a few days, Rayyan was discharged from the hospital and he went home, but that was not all. The rehab started then. It was slow and painful, but over the next few months as his prosthetic was fixed and he diligently worked with the doctors, following their instructions and exercising.

It took months and after a year, as he entered the ground for the first time, after the accident, adrenaline rushed through his veins sending him on cloud nine. The game commenced. But now he was no longer the best player on the team. The others were so much faster, smoother and more skilful with the ball. It took just one match for all to realise that Rayyan was a nuisance on the team. He ran slowly and was clumsy with the shots, often falling over.

Upon reaching home he sobbed into his pillow and refused to be comforted. The next day his grandfather forced Rayyan to go somewhere with him. They ended up at the same park where Rayyan had stormed out of the previous day. It was empty except for a group of small children trying to play football. Tears welled up in Rayyan’s eyes as he muttered, “Why are we here, grandpa?”

His grandpa smiled.

“I have a good reason. Rayyan, look at those kids there. Now don’t you think that with all your experience you could coach them to become good footballers like yourself?”

Rayyan turned his face to the other direction.

“The way I see it, if life gives you lemons, there are all sorts of ways to make lemonade. You can still have a great life even if it’s different from what you expected.

He didn’t answer, but there was a spark in his heart. Suddenly, the weight of sadness that had befallen him was lifted, as if by magic. He found hope, and there he built a desire to teach others the best tricks and moves. He envisioned himself becoming the best coach ... and that was enough.

There and then, Rayyan vowed to never let his disability define him. His skills and experience would make him shine, and he would become the best football coach the world would ever see!

Published in Dawn, Young World, June 29th, 2024