I receive emails from various journalists, asking for a quote about the upcoming match. And despite my threat about the police, I spot a couple of them hanging about outside our house.
The kicker comes, though, when Amma approaches me with a newspaper in her hands while I’m having break-fast.
‘Is this you, Maya?’ she asks, eyebrows creased. She lays out the broadsheet on the table in front of us, to a picture that is – decidedly – of me, though it’s old. It’s a mid-game shot from a match that I played years ago. In it, I’m about to pass the ball to another player, my head ducked down low and my eyes slightly narrowed in concentration. The picture saw a lot of use when I was being called aggressive and a bitch. Somehow, the candid image of me where I’mnot smiling meant that I’m some kind of bully. As if brown women should look approachable in every second of their lives.
This time, though, the picture is not accompanied by a headline about my supposed transgressions as a player.
Local Football Player Maya Alam’s Compassion Shows In Upcoming Football Match!
Maya Alam may not be an A-lister, but that doesn’t make her celebrity appeal any less, especially among our locals. You may know her because she attended Westbrook Secondary, where her stint on the football team led Westbrook to its first championship victory in decades. After joining the Dustreet Abbey Under-18s football league, she earned herself a spot in the US state team known as the Vikings, whom she helped lead to victory after victory. And even if you haven’t followed her stellar career, she made headlines more recently when she declared an early retirement from the game.
But Maya certainly hasn’t let her early retirement go to waste – instead, she has recently taken up a coaching position for the Westbrook football team – giving back at the place where she first found her success.
The principal of Westbrook only has praises to sing of the former student turned coach.
‘We always knew Maya was going to be a star. She was one of the brightest students in the school, and now she’s turned her talents to inspiring our current students!’
But that’s not the end of the story. Recently, viral clips from social media influencer Jade Thornton have shown her football team – the Divas – preparing to play a match against the Westbrook team, with the Divas being led by none other than Maya’s former school teammate, Dina Chowdhury. And rumour has it that the two have a terse history.
Will our local football hero manage to lead her team to a historic victory? Come and watch the match of the decade on Wednesday, 30 August!
I can only blink at the newspaper once I’ve finished reading the article. I guess the reporters got tired of asking me for a quote and decided to do whatever they could with what they had. Jade’s videos definitely haven’t helped, and I can’t believe Ms Jacobs would succumb to these journalists.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about this match?’ Amma asks.
‘It’s not a big deal,’ I say. ‘They shouldn’t have published it in the newspaper.’
‘It seems like a big deal,’ Amma says, the frown still in place. She sits down on one of the empty chairs beside me and eyes me closely.
‘This is Dina Chowdhury? From school? She’s a football coach too?’
‘Yes, and yes,’ I say. I definitely don’t want to talk about Dina to my mother, but seeing as she was my longest relationship, I have confided in Amma about her. Especially after Dina and I broke up. If anyone knew what kind of heartbreak I went through because of Dina, it was my mum. Now, she looks at me with concern etched all over her face.
‘I didn’t know you got in contact with her again,’ she says.
‘I didn’t. It’s … complicated,’ I reply. I wonder what Amma would have said if she’d run into Dina the other day. If she knew that Dina had spent the night in my bedroom. I doubt she would have been jumping for joy, even though her life’s objective lately has been seeing me in a romantic relationship. Or wanting to see me happy, as she likes to put it. It’s just sometimes she equates those two things.
‘You almost didn’t go to America because of her,’ Amma says.
I sigh. I don’t need her to remind me of what I almostgave up because of Dina, because she really made me believe that I was in the wrong for taking the opportunity that she believed was all hers.
Half my nerves during my first few games were about Dina. It was me wondering if I really belonged there or if Dina had been right that I had taken her rightful spot. It’s not like South Asian women get a lot of opportunities in football.
‘I remember. Dina and I aren’t … Our teams are just playing a match against each other. And it isn’t a big deal, Amma.’ I speak slowly in the hope that it will hammer home my words. Then, I quickly get up from the table, taking my finished breakfast plate with me to the sink. I turn on the tap and start scrubbing, though I’m still thinking about the article, thinking about the match, thinking about Dina and everything that has happened in our past. The last words she said to me before I left still echo in my head sometimes, the vitriol with which she said them to me all the more. That was the reason why I almost cancelled taking the position for the Vikings – the hurt and anger in Dina’s voice, in her eyes, before she turned and left. I had to live with the fact that I had caused that hurt and anger, I had to deal with it. I wasn’t sure if it had been fair to me back then, and I wasn’t sure if I had really reckoned with it now.
‘Dina is bad news,’ Amma says firmly, suddenly appearing behind me.
I’m so surprised that I nearly drop the plate in my hands, only managing to grab hold of it at the last minute.
‘Amma,’ I groan.
‘And you haven’t had any serious relationships since Dina. I told you I can set you up with someone if you want.Then, when you see Dina for the match, you can tell her that you’re already in a relationship,’ Amma says.
I turn off the tap and wipe my hands on a kitchen towel with a sigh. ‘Amma, I don’t want to be set up. And nothing is going to happen between me and Dina. I remember everything that happened, and you have nothing to worry about.’
Amma studies me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m lying. I don’t even know if I am. She nods firmly a moment later. ‘Your abba and I will come to the match to support you.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ I say quickly. I definitely don’t want to have her glaring daggers at Dina across the football field.
