Caged In

By William Dumbili

In England, it is almost every boy's dream of one day playing in the Premier League. Tommy Okafor and his two best friends, Jamal and Kwame, are no different. Other than for the love of the game, like many teenagers, they see football as an escape route from London's dark side. The three teenagers from Croydon all play for professional football clubs and are focused on making it to the very top.

Even though Croydon is in a period of transition, the same issues still lay beneath the surface. Broken homes, drugs and gang violence are rife with many being consumed by their environment. Amid this horizon of hope and aspirations to a brighter future, Tommy's life is quickly thrown upside down after being dropped by his club. His football career is at a crossroads with uncertainties over his next move.

Meanwhile, Jamal and Kwame deal with greedy football directors and unsupportive parents. They too have tough decisions to make and what they choose could shape their future forever. This is a story of three lives on the same path, all pinning for success. But will the challenges of the London streets have anything to do with their getting there?

Only time will tell...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Infomediaworks Ltd
• Release date: Jul 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201039936

William Dumbili

William Dumbili, like many, pursued the dream of becoming a professional footballer but hung up his boots two years prior to writing this fictional narrative. With football no longer a realistic option, he picked up writing and started this novel only a month after quitting the sport. This is the first published work from the 23-year-old from South London. Caged In is inspired by William’s own involvement and the experiences of those around him.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

KIDS FROM THE INNER CITY

The weather in Croydon was average, not hot enough for a T-shirt but appropriate for a hoodie. As the sun was setting, it released a menacing orange glow that made it look like the entire area was about to be hit by a meteoroid. Miserable adults dashed out of the station eager for the day to end, teenagers on their summer holidays stood around for no reason and the rows of traffic seemed to go on forever. No matter the time or occasion, Croydon was always packed. For a place where people rarely spoke to one another, it was noisy. With a new Westfield shopping complex on its way, Croydon was in transition of gentrification, but all the different cultures that remained still filled the air.

Tommy Okafor had lived in Croydon his entire life, and he wouldn’t change that for anything. Tommy had rather remained in the shadows because being popular in Croydon rarely ends well. At five-eleven he was above average height, but his muscular physique made him look much taller than that. He was often asked if he went to the gym, but he didn’t. His body build could be said to be as a result of a combination of factors: genetics, heavy Nigerian food and football. Tommy had just left the barbers and was feeling superb about himself. Even though he was made to wait for two hours to get his haircut, he wasn’t about to let that shake his mood. He had on his favourite slim- fitted grey tracksuit that flattered his wide frame and broad shoulders. To top off the look, he wore white Nike Air Forces that with every step he took he tried his hardest not to crease. You can never go wrong with a tracksuit and white airs was something Tommy used to say.

Tommy had now reached West Croydon station, and as he was walking by, something caught his attention. It was a newsstand for a local newspaper with a smiling young black man on the front page. Tommy stopped to take a closer look because the guy on the newspaper looked familiar. The article read, Aspiring Lawyer, 21, fatally stabbed as he walked home from the library. As the wide- grinned young man stared back at Tommy, he had realised where he had seen him before. The young man named as Femi Adebayo in the article went to his church. Tommy had seen him there just this past Sunday, and even though he never spoke to Femi, a sense of shock washed over him.

Fuck! That’s nuts, the roads are getting out of control, man, Tommy thought.

Still staring at the article, he closed his eyes for a moment in reflection. He was quickly interrupted when he felt a hand stroke the back of his head.

Is that you yeah? Fresh trim and that! About time bro I was getting worried Tommy heard from behind him. He spun sharply to see it was his best friend, Jamal.

Don’t lie. I know you see my waves on swim, Tommy replied twisting his head in different angles so Jamal could get a better view of his haircut.

Tommy quickly threw the newspaper towards where he had picked it up but missed and the newspaper hit the ground. Femi’s once joyful expression was now faced down in the dirty road.

Jamal Jennings, or JJ as Tommy sometimes called him, was a person most people would be if they could. Jamal just oozed confidence and swagger, which drew people to him. He and Tommy had been friends since the age of three, so they were more like brothers. Even though both were eight-teen, Tommy looked up to Jamal in some ways, but he would never tell him that. Jamal was like the polar opposite of Tommy; standing at six-five and slender, he resembled a lamppost. With his flamboyant fashion choices and blonde dip-dyed curly high top, he was hard to miss. He attempted to live up to the ‘light-skin pretty boy’ image, and the girls loved it. His cocky demeanour rubbed many the wrong way, but no-one ever called him out about it. Jamal and Tommy walked through Croydon Town Centre, which felt like forever because Jamal kept stopping every few seconds to greet someone he knew.

You still coming cage? The season starts in a few weeks, and we have to get sharp, Tommy declared.

I think you mean you have to get sharp. I was born ready bro, but its calm, I will come help you out.

"You chat so much shit I swear... Oi look who it is. Yo Kwame!

Kwame!" Tommy shouted as he pointed down the street.

Kwame Appiah came to England from Ghana when he was eight, and after ten years his accent never left him. Tommy first met Kwame at the now closed down youth club, where a few kids tried to pick on him. Ever since then, Tommy made it his personal mission to take Kwame under his wing and look out for him. Kwame was a small guy at around five-six, and his personality matched his height. He was silent and only ever spoke when he was with Jamal and Tommy or playing football. Kwame was torn between being an obedient child to strict African parents and fitting in a western world. His upbringing meant he always treated people with respect, and that made him difficult to dislike. His focus was one of the things that Tommy admired most about him because he never seemed distracted by the world around him.

As Kwame got closer Jamal realised that he was dragging a trolley behind him and asked, Where are you coming from?

I just left Tesco. My mum got me doing the shopping for the house.

You’re a big man now you know, can’t be out here still doing shopping for mummy.

Shut up JJ, allow him. Kwame you on cage later? We need to graft bro, I’m trying to get that pro this season, Tommy exclaimed while rubbing his hands together.

Yeah of course man, I’m always down to kick ball. What time? Kwame asked.

Calm, get there for seven and then after you lot come my bit so I can smash both your heads in at Fifa.

With ten-foot-high metal fencing and ripped nets in the goals, the cage is where an inner-city kid masters his craft. As it was the summer holidays, the cage was ransacked with kids trying to be the next big thing. The uneven surface, overpopulated pitches and opponents of different ages, is how a ‘street baller’ is born. With football, Tommy, Jamal and Kwame garnered respect around Croydon. At the top of their game and all at professional clubs, everyone expected them to be next to put Croydon on the map. Jamal has been at Chelsea since the age of six and signed a pro contract on his seventeenth birthday. The pacey striker was tipped for a big breakout season. Kwame had only been in England two years when he was scouted by Crystal Palace whilst playing in a park with his dad. After months of the club trying to convince his parents, Kwame signed for them at age ten and has been there ever since. An attacking midfielder with technical ability way beyond his years, Palace fans already anointed him as the player to change the club fortunes. Tommy was more of a late bloomer compared to his two friends. He signed for League One side AFC Wimbledon at sixteen. A hardworking winger, Tommy got to where he is now through grinding, and he was determined to not give up until he gets to the top.

They all had the same dream of playing in the Premier League, so they always pushed each other to go that little harder. They bounced off each other’s energy and whenever they trained together; the session gets intense. However, it was a healthy competition which is seeing all of them improve. Whilst doing a passing drill Jamal fired the ball into Tommy’s feet and for the third time, he failed to control the ball.

Tommy, what the fuck are you doing? If you think you’re going to get a pro playing like this, you have lost your mind, Jamal yelled.

Tommy clenched his fist and got in Jamal’s face then replied, Yeah, I know I’m just having an off-day and you don’t need to remind me.

Tommy hated being shown up by Jamal and Kwame because they are already in better positions in football, and he wasn’t about to be left behind.

Alright boys, let’s chill. Jamal is right, I know you’re better than this Tommy. Just focus in sessions like this and in the matches, you will kill it, Kwame said whilst standing in-between them.

Since the heated exchange with Jamal, Tommy used it as motivation to take his game to the next level. He trained like someone who had something to prove. Tommy cut out all the mistakes and ran harder at every opportunity. It meant more to him than just a kick about with friends.

As their session ended, they all walked to Jamal’s car. Suddenly, a police van drove past with all the officers staring hard in their direction. Tommy and Jamal quickly avoided eye contact, looking everywhere but the police van.

If you look, they will spin it. Just act like you can’t see them, Jamal instructed.

Kwame looked around, What you talking about? Act like you can’t see who? Oh, you mean the feds over there.

I said don’t look, you idiot. What’s wrong with you? The road went silent.

I think they’re gone, Tommy noted.

Jamal wiped his forehead, Phew, that was close man. These feds have been moving mad ever since that kid that went private school died.

All these guys on ends that have died, and we don’t hear a peep, but when a rich kid dies the entire nation goes into uproar.

You know how it is bro, they don’t care about us.

Kwame looked back down the street, Shit, they’re coming back. Fuck! Just follow my lead. I know how to deal with them, Jamal

said.

The bully van stopped right beside them, and four policemen swiftly jumped out. The policemen pouched on them like predators on their prey.

All of you up against the wall now! One policeman yelled. I don’t get it, what have we done? Tommy questioned.

The policeman grabbed Tommy by the neck, I’m the one that asks the questions around here, mate.

Jamal raised his hands, Alright, there’s no need for all of that, is there?

Another policeman pushed Jamal, Up against the wall.

You lads fit the description of suspects that were involved in an armed robbery that took place an hour ago. You saw a vulnerable young lady travelling back from a hard day’s work and decided to take advantage.

What are you talking about? We have nothing to do with that, Tommy said.

So, you’re telling me you lads haven’t been in Croydon town centre today?

Yeah, we have, we were there earlier, Kwame blurted.

Jamal shot Kwame a look, What my friend here really means is that we were in Croydon town centre ages ago. We have just spent the last hour or so playing football in the cage over there.

Isn’t it obvious we’re all in football kit, Tommy sneered.

That means nothing to me mate, it really doesn’t. It seems like unfortunately we’re going to have to carry out a stop and search, the policeman said.

You will not find anything but football boots and dirty socks, Jamal explained.

We’re just going to have to see about that, aren’t we?

They were pinned up against the wall as they were searched roughly. Tommy had the urge to fight back, but he kept composure. After a thorough search, the police came up empty.

They’re clear, one policeman said.

Really? No knifes? No drugs? Not even a weed grinder? another policeman said.

Nope, all clear, unfortunately.

Wow, I guess it’s your lads’ lucky day then.

A policeman reached into Jamal’s pocket and took out his car keys, Wait, what are these?

The keys to my car, obviously, Jamal pointed to his Audi A3. That’s a nice car for such a young lad, isn’t it? What do you for a living? You probably paid for it with one of your county lines, didn’t you?

I play football, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jamal’s patience had run thin.

Yeah, and I’m an open heart surgeon. Let me see your driving licence.

Jamal handed it over and the policeman eyed the licence closely, Jamal Jennings... Jamal Jennings... Why does that sound familiar? Sparky, where have you heard the name Jamal Jennings?

The other policeman rubbed his chin, Hmmm... that does sound familiar, you know. Hmmm... wait, hold on. I think I remember now. I’m sure Jamal Jennings was at Sheffield Wednesday last season and the top goal scorer in the Championship. I’m also pretty sure he was on loan from Chelsea too. Wait a minute, that’s you?

I did say I played football, Jamal rolled his eyes.

The policeman changed his tone and immediately handed Jamal back his licence, Sorry, Mr Jennings, this all was just a total misunderstanding. There’s no need to you know put this on social media or anything like that.

Whatever, I’m just trying to go home if you don’t mind.

No problem, we’ll let you be on your way and you gents have a good evening. Wait before you go would it be possible if I could get your autograph? My son is a huge fan of yours, it would really make his day.

Yeah right, Jamal snorted.

Come on mate, it was a misunderstanding.

Jamal, Tommy and Kwame walked off as they got in Jamal’s car then drove away.

They all lived a short walking distance from each other, so everyone being at Tommy’s house was a regular occurrence. Jamal moved back in with his Mum instead of the property Chelsea provided for him in the Surrey suburbs. With Tommy’s mum out working, he came back to an empty house and quickly switched on the living room TV. England had just finished playing and lost 2-0 in a World Cup qualifier against Serbia. One of the football pundits was ripping into one of England’s younger players by saying, Why is does he still get into the team? He clearly can never perform for England. I don’t care how old he is, it’s time for the manager to reconsider putting him in the starting line-up.

Between being still irritated by his interaction with the police and the comments by the pundits Tommy snapped, I didn’t watch the game and I know they are throwing the kid under the bus. That’s why I’m playing for Nigeria man; he is supposed to be ‘one of our own’ but is always made the scapegoat!

Kwame put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, looked him dead in the eye and said, Have you seen St. George’s? Wembley? I don’t think you’re thinking clearly, bro.

With a fucking name like Kwame, you rather play for England than Ghana?

I wouldn’t think twice my friend.

All I know I rather play in the Euros than the African Cup of Nations where they average a foul every two minutes, Jamal chimed in.

Whilst laughing hysterically, Kwame and Jamal walked up the stairs to Tommy’s room. After not being taken seriously, Tommy dropped the subject and followed them as they played Fifa late into the night.

CHAPTER 2

CATCHING FEELINGS

The season had started and all the hard work over the summer seemed to be paying off for Tommy. He was assisting and scoring goals at every other match and if they hadn’t already; it was only a matter of time before coaches at AFC Wimbledon started to take notice. With the annual review meeting a few weeks away, Tommy was feeling confident he was about to be offered a professional contract. So confident, he bought the outfit he would wear to the meeting weeks in advance. It was going to be the best day of his life, and it was only right for him to look his best. He called it, Speaking it into existence and if he saw it as already done then chances are the universe would agree with him too. Tommy took a trip to Shepherd’s Bush Westfield as he loved shopping alone. Not only did it give him the opportunity to enjoy his own company, but also no one could protest what he wanted to purchase.

With no success so far in the pursuit of the perfect outfit, Tommy was about to leave and try elsewhere another day. Only a few yards from the exit and replying to a text, Tommy looked up to see a girl walking towards him. The girl was so brown that she looked golden with dimples so deep you could fall in them. As they made eye contact, Tommy felt like she stared directly through his soul with her piercing dark eyes. Her long silky hair that reached past her lower back, moved in sync with her perfectly sculpted curves. The scent of her perfume mixed with her hair products penetrated Tommy’s nostrils, just adding more to her attractiveness. He was so in awe that he had to shake his head to snap out of it. Tommy was used to just sliding in DM’s and as he had the verified tick, he received a response ninety percent of the time. This was a whole different ball game to social media, and Tommy was more than out of his comfort zone.

Tommy was second guessing himself whilst trying to decide whether or not he should approach her.

The girl had walked past him now and he thought, Fuck it, the worst thing she can say is no.

As if out of nowhere, he found the courage to say something. Excuse me... Excuse me. Excuse me! Tommy yelled.

The girl didn’t reply, nor did she even look back to see who was shouting. People were looking at Tommy strangely now, but he had to finish what he started. So he did that awkward jog you do when someone has been holding the door open for you for too long and then tapped her on the shoulder. Her first reaction was to look at the hand of the person who had the audacity to bother her, then to Tommy’s face; he nearly melted, but somehow kept it together. She took out one of her Air pods that was hidden behind her hair and that would explain why she wasn’t responding to Tommy’s screams.

Excuse me, you look crazy familiar, and I don’t know where I have seen you before. Where you from?

Of course Tommy had never seen her before; he was just trying to get her talking.

Newham, East London. She replied with a straight face.

Ok, cool; must have seen you on Insta or something. How old are you?

But that’s the thing. I don’t have Instagram, so it probably wasn’t me that you saw. I just turned eighteen, why do you want to know?

It was feeling more like an interview than a conversation, so Tommy cut straight to the point. He whipped his phone out of his pocket whilst handing it to her. He said, well I’m Tommy and I think you’re beautiful. We’re in Westfield so the chances of me seeing you ever again are very slim, so I had to approach you. Can I get your number so we can get to know each other better?

The girl snatched Tommy’s phone and started typing, then handed it back before walking away.

Whilst walking away she explained, I added myself on your snapchat, you’re not getting my number.

Feeling confused, Tommy shouted, But I didn’t even get your name. Without turning back, she said, Chantelle.

TOMMY, JAMAL AND KWAME were at their favourite chicken shop, Morley’s. Their football clubs wouldn’t be happy about it, but going there felt like a tradition. They’ve been going to this same chicken shop since they could barely see over the counter and ‘bossman’ on the till was like a distant uncle to them. After working hard to get the attention of Chantelle, Tommy was finally getting somewhere with her. Usually if a girl isn’t showing interest from the first few conservations he would just move on, but with Chantelle he wasn’t about to let her get away so easily. It went from getting no replies to prolonged replies, to the pair texting each other every day. When he was talking to Chantelle, nothing around him mattered and Tommy couldn’t identify the feeling.

I’m in the first team squad against Southampton on the weekend, you know. Yo Tommy. Tommy?... Tommy did you hear what I just said? Jamal asked.

Huh? What? Yeah man of course, Tommy replied smiling at his phone.

I’m better than you at Fifa, init Tommy? Jamal questioned trying to bait him.

With fingers still flashing across his phone screen, Tommy’s grin expanded even larger. He would probably cringe if he could look at his himself right now.

Huh? Yeah man whatever you say.

I knew it! Who has you smiling like this? Let me see right now.

Jamal hooked Tommy’s phone out of his hands before he even had a chance to protest. As Tommy tried to fight for his phone back, Jamal raised the phone above his head and with his six foot five frame Tommy gave up before he made a fool out of his himself. Kwame and Jamal were enjoying themselves as they scowled through Tommy’s phone trying to find out who the mystery girl was.

Chantelle yeah? She’s a sweet one, I’m proud of you, my son. So you were trying to keep this one on a low, I see. Aren’t we supposed to be your boys? Kwame mocked.

I’m not a little boy anymore, I don’t go running around telling you lot about every girl I’m talking too.

I’m not a little boy anymore... My friend go ask her father for her hand in marriage then.

Wait... No way... Is this Newham Chantelle? Jamal quizzed whilst rubbing his chin.

Erm... yeah. Do you know her or something? Tommy answered, feeling increasingly uneasy.

No way that is so mad I was chatting to that a couple months ago, you know, Jamal giggled.

Tommy felt a drip a of sweat roll down the back of his neck and his hands felt clammy. Knowing Jamal’s history of being a serial womaniser, Tommy couldn’t start to imagine what happened if he and Chantelle were talking to one another. Dating a girl any of his friends has previously dated was forbidden to him, so his hopes of building something with Chantelle was shattering.

He tried to remain nonchalant to the bomb Jamal has just dropped on him and said, oh yeah? What happened?

She’s a good girl if I’m being honest, we was getting on then I told her she should come see me at my house, but she insisted I take her on a date first. Me and you both know I don’t do that so I couldn’t be bothered anymore and stopped chatting to her.

Ahhh yeah, I see. It gets like that sometimes, I guess.

Tommy kept his poker face strong, but inside he wanted to do backflips. Many girls are weak to Jamal’s advances, but Chantelle wasn’t and at that very moment he knew that she had to be the one.

CHAPTER 3

DATE NIGHT

Between Tommy’s being at football and Chantelle working full time, it has been difficult for them to see each other. Tommy promised to take her on a date when they were both free and at last the day had arrived. The butterflies had him fidgeting all day and he couldn’t keep his mind off it. This would be the first time they see each other since the time at Westfield, and Tommy was having doubts.

What if she’s not feeling me when she sees me again? Tommy thought while pacing up and down his bedroom.

Just the pure excitement of seeing Chantelle helped to calm him down and repress those insecure thoughts, so he started to get ready for his date. He wore a crisp white shirt with dark distressed jeans and trainers that his mum would probably disown him if she found out how much they cost. Cologne sprayed, hair brushed and feeling all so fresh he was ready to go. Tommy drives a black Volkswagen Golf, it wasn’t really his first choice, but he was still proud of it. Jumping in his car en route to Chantelle’s place to pick her up, Tommy encountered heavy traffic on the way.

Something like this would only happen to me! Tommy yelled while whacking the steering wheel in frustration.

Speeding at every opportunity he could, the drive was stressful, and he looked under his arm to see a slight sweat patch. His navigator finally informed him that he had reached his destination and he was hoping it was a mistake. Tommy turned down his music whilst looking to his right where he saw a large sign for Chantelle’s estate. He didn’t know his way round Newham, but he was sure he saw this estate on Crimewatch the other day. An hour late, he pulled over to call Chantelle to let her know he had arrived.

You really took the piss, how can you have me waiting this long Tommy? Chantelle told him off.

Babe, I’m sorry the traffic had me on the ropes. Come down please I’m in the black Golf, Tommy explained.

Give me five minutes.

The entire estate had a sense of deafening stillness which made Tommy uncomfortable. The place felt claustrophobic as the tall tower blocks swallowed up its surroundings. It appeared

people thought better of it than to stick around here as soon as the sun went down. There was no sign of life anywhere. A faulty street light flickered, revealing how dark it could get if it lost the battle with power. Tommy scanned the area thoroughly, hoping to see Chantelle. These five minutes felt like five hours, and he just wanted to get out of there now. Tommy peeked through his rear-view mirror to see five shadows in hoods walking up behind his car out of nowhere. He quickly slouched in his seat hoping not to be seen then realised his engine and headlights were on. Before he could compose himself, a large hand knocked on his window.

Yo, you lot good? Tommy stuttered as he rolled down his window. The real question is are you good? You must be lost because I haven’t seen you around here before. Where you from, bro? Croydon. I’m only here to pick someone up,

Croydon? Yeah, I don’t believe you bro. No one would come here all the way from Croydon to pick someone up. I hope for your mum’s sake you’re not one of them man from the other side, you know. Who you coming to see? You know what shut up I don’t give a fuck, get out of the car now.

Relax. Relax. Relax. We don’t need to do this. Tommy pleaded, holding his hands up.

I’m not going to tell you again. Get out of the car now or I will yank you out myself.

Tommy scanned his surroundings once again, hoping his brain will somehow invent an escape route out of this estate. He was at a dead end and the path was too narrow for him to perform a U-turn without destroying his car. Tommy decided the best course of action was to step out the car and try to reason with them. In an instant, he was circled by the gang of five like a pack of hyenas. It was so dark that he couldn’t make out any facial features. Tommy was surprised when he realised how short the main aggressor of the group was. He had to look down to give eye contact, but that didn’t make Tommy any more confident about the situation he found himself in. The main aggressor must have been the leader of sorts because he was the only one that said anything.

Money man, yeah? Maybe this guy is telling the truth. Them man from the other side are way too broke to own a pair of what you got on your feet.

That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all this time bro. Let me just pick up who I came here to pick up then I will be gone trust me, Tommy trembled.

The leader of the gang proceeded to pat down Tommy’s pockets, Nah fuck that, they should’ve warned you about where you were coming. What you got for me?

Tommy’s male pride took over now, and he wasn’t about to be made to be a victim. If being from Croydon had taught him anything, it was not to take to violations lightly.

Nah, this is not happening. I’m not a prick, don’t touch me. Don’t touch me, Tommy fought back.

A scuffle suddenly broke out and all five men sent punches and kicks in Tommy’s direction. With nowhere to run, he knew he had to go into survival mode. He made sure to stay on his feet because he knew if he were to hit the ground, it would be inevitable that he would leave this estate in an ambulance. Tommy’ vision was fuzzy, but in the corner on his eye he saw the leader reach down into his tracksuit bottoms to retrieve something. The streetlights shone off a sliver object that was the length of a forearm.

Poke him up. Poke him up, one of them urged.

Tommy tried with all his strength to escape the tight grips of his attackers, but to no avail. He was too outnumbered. They held him in place, making sure he had no clear path to run into. Tommy could see a devilish smirk under the hoodie of the leader as he slowly stalked his prey; ready to inflict fatal blows. Tommy’s life flashed before his eyes and all he could think of