The swells, one after another, lapped at the dinghy as daylight ebbed. A clear blue sky cracked into hues of lilac, amber and gold that had only a day before filled her heart with joy. When she had felt so alive and free.

Now, scorched and salt crusted, Sanji whimpered. The thought of drifting well into the night without food or water or light or any human company was unthinkable. The red plastic whistle dangled useless from her life jacket. No one is around to hear the shrill note that had pierced the silence just hours before.

I got to hang on. I am a survivor. I can overcome.

As if the sea dissented, a not so gentle swell raised her dinghy higher than usual. Sanji drew in breath. She fumbled as she lunged forward towards the sliding backpack with her bandaged left wrist.

She looked around—what had caused that? It was not from within the sea. The breeze that earlier toyed with her hair was now smacking it and turning her dinghy around. The formless floating rope tied to the back now curled snake-like just beneath the surface of the sea.

Looking behind her, dark clouds loomed.

                                                                                                                       *

Five forty-five. The game was nearly over at Serrekunda East Mini Stadium but none of the teams had gone past equalising. The Scottish girls proved to be a tough bunch notwithstanding the baking field in early September; the sixteen and seventeen year-olds from the Glasgow Girls Football Club were tall and had the natural advantage of lengthy strides over their African opponents.

The Red Scorpions from Gambia seemed to be fatigued with the constant running although they were used to the hot climate. It was 32 degrees Celsius with no cloud in the sky. But the Gambians showed mastery in dribbling the ball, noted Albert, the sports reporter from All Africa News. Only ten minutes were left in the Scotland-Gambia football friendly. The Gambian forwards seemed to have forgotten their lethargy earlier and were charged up with newfound energy. They attempted a strike, but the ball bounced off the post.

Then they struck again. Binta Isaka lopped the ball over to her fellow Scorpion striker who then rammed the ball just past the Scottish goalie’s head.

“Goal!” Cheering Gambians leapt to their feet, waving the national flag. Sanji jumped up and down at her own goalpost, calling out her mates to go full steam.

Not giving in to defeat easily, the Scottish lasses moved quickly, passing the ball from one to another, tricking their opponents with clever footwork. About 30 metres away from the goalie, striker Lea McArthur attempted to double her score. She kicked the ball, aiming low. Sanji dived, landing hard on her wrist, but caught the ball in time.

Whooooaaaa! The crowd was ecstatic. The goal keeper got up, rubbed her left wrist, then did her Saturday Night Fever jig, her trademark dance that everyone knew and loved as The Lion Dance. The mop of her hair bounced along with her. The crowd laughed. Albert too laughed. What a funny girl.

Three more minutes. The Scottish team had increased momentum and was bent on upsetting the Scorpion’s potential victory. They were on the attack.

Seeing the Scottish strikers advance towards her, Sanji’s heart knocked hard in her ribcage. She couldn’t let her country down by letting another goal through plus she might lose her scholarship if she did. But most of all, she wanted to carry the trophy in Gambia’s name….