Zachary beca busy after ending his call with Emily. He spent his morning hours packing his luggage before eting his Congolese lawyer in charge of securing his property. Then, in the afternoon, he drove to town and linked up with Coach Samson Damata at a local hotel in Bukavu.
The Congolese coach had already requested to et him more than a couple of tis over the past two months. So, he figured that he should not disappoint him, especially since he was the person that had helped his grandma settle down in Lubumbashi.
"Welco!" Coach Damata said in Swahili as soon as Zachary stepped before his table in the otherwise silent restaurant. "It's a pleasure to see you again, my young friend." Without waiting for Zachary to reply, the coach pulled him into a bear hug and patted his back repeatedly.
"How are you doing? Coach Damata asked, releasing Zachary.
"I'm doing okay," Zachary replied.
"And how's everything at ho?" The coach asked as he stepped back and settled down on his seat.
Zachary followed suit and sunk down on an opposite seat before replying, "I've already employed people, including a local lawyer and hired guards, to secure my grandma's property. So, everything is moving smoothly."
Coach Damata smiled as he adjusted his plump figure within his seat. "It's great to hear that you're doing okay. During the tis you feel sorrowful, take heart. Try to live your life, and you'll learn to live with the loss of your grandma with ti."
"Thanks for the encouragent," Zachary replied, nodding. He then turned to the waitress who had just approached their table.
The waitress smiled splendidly and said, "Welco to our humble restaurant. We have various drinks and most of the African dishes available. What will you be having?"
"Do you have bottled water?" Zachary inquired.
"Yes," the waitress replied.
"Then, give a bottle of water. The bigger one!"
"Okay, noted." The waitress smiled before turning to Coach Damata. "What about you, sir? What will you be having?"
"Get so African tea and a chapatti," the coach replied. "Make sure the food is hot. Okay?"
"Understood," the waitress said. "I'll bring over your orders shortly. Thanks again for choosing our restaurant." She then whirled around before stepping away to prepare the orders.
"She's really polite and enthusiastic," Coach Damata remarked when the waiter was out of earshot. "Maybe, she recognizes you."
Zachary chuckled. "Enough with the small talk," he said. "We've known each other for a long ti. We aren't strangers. So, go ahead and tell why you were very impatient to et ."
Coach Damata forced a smile. "Actually, I'm eting you to return a favor to an old friend. He tasked with forwarding a proposal to you."
Zachary couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Go ahead. I'm listening."
Coach Damata nodded. "The old friend I'm talking about is Maxans Omari, the president of DRC's football governing body - FECOFA. He tasked with inviting you to join the next training camp for the DRC national football team. He hopes that— No, let rephrase that. We hope that you might join us at the start of September to prepare for the African Cup of Nations qualification matches."
"I see," Zachary said, sighing. "Thanks for inviting . But I don't think I'll join the national team this year. I need ti to refocus and straighten myself out, especially after everything I have gone through. So, can we take a rain check on this? We can consider the notion again next year — when I'm sure my mind is in the right place."
Coach Damata's eyes flickered with a trace of disappointnt, but only for a mont. A soft smile outlined his face as he said, "Okay, then. We'll wait for you. But whatever you do, don't forget that DR Congo is your holand."
"I know," Zachary replied, smiling helplessly. "I'll rember that."
It was at that mont that the waitress brought over their orders. Zachary's mind strayed as he waited for her to finish serving the drinks and dishes.
Half a year ago, he'd already positively considered the prospect of playing for DRC's national team. But after the death of his grandma, he felt like the bond between him and his holand had shattered. He realized that he no longer felt any sense of belonging to the country and didn't want to bother with it. And since he didn't owe anything to the place, he decided against hustling with the various challenges affecting DRC's football community. He would wait and bide his ti before thinking about the notion again.
Even though he was vaguely aware that a supernatural being had given him the system under the condition of helping his holand, he had still resisted the notion of imdiately joining the national team. That was because there were many ways to help his ho country other than playing for the national football team.
For instance, he could build football academies, stadiums, hospitals, schools, and other facilities in his holand. He could also set up a charity organization and start donating money to war victims from war-torn areas.
As long as he kept on earning millions by progressing his career in Europe, he would have the capacity to help his nation in many more ways than any Congolese politician or football player ever has. That was his vision. And that would be his way of completing the task placed upon his shoulders by the creepy ghost that appeared right before he received the system.
"So," Coach Damata said, breaking the silence on the table after the waiter stepped away. "Did you watch the World Cup final?"
"Yes, I did."
"It was really a surprise for Germany to win against Argentina," Coach Damata remarked. "I expected ssi to win the World Cup. But he failed again."
"Argentina tried," Zachary said after taking a sip of his water. "But the German team played better as a whole. Their teamwork was incredible, and they bested Argentina in all the crucial areas. They deserved to win."
"That's true," Coach Damata admitted. "So, when are you returning to Europe?"
"Within a couple of days, at most," Zachary said. "I'll be leaving Bukavu today evening. First, I'll fly to Kinshasa and settle a few things there. Then, I'll catch another flight from there and imdiately head to Europe."
Coach Damata nodded. "The transfer rumors on the internet hint at you joining Tottenham, Juventus, Manchester United, or Chelsea. They insist that all four clubs have already made offers to Rosenborg as the first step to acquiring your services. Is that true?"
"Yes," Zachary confird.
"So, which team will you choose? Can you give a hint?"
"I can't answer that," Zachary said, smiling mysteriously. "I don't want to hinder my agent's work due to my big mouth. But when I do—make a decision, you'll be among the first people to know. I'll call to give you the news."
"Then, I'll be waiting for your call," Coach Damata said. "And I wish you all the best of luck when choosing a new team."
"Thanks," Zachary said. "I also have a favor to ask you."
"Go ahead."
"If you can, please take so ti to check on my grandma's property every once in a while. That'll help keep my employees in line when I'm away."
"Don't worry," the coach said. "I'll do that. You can travel to Europe and play your football at ease. I'll help supervise your employees here in DRC."
"Excellent," Zachary said, smiling. "You're a lifesaver. To thank you, I would like to gift you my Audi."
"Are you talking about the one I delivered to your late grandma's place in Lubumbashi a few years ago?"
"Yes, that's the one."
Coach Damata's eyes widened. "That's quite an expensive vehicle. Is it really okay to gift it to ?"
"Don't sweat the small stuff," Zachary said, waving his hand about him in a dismissive way. "We've known each other for years. You've even helped my grandma on several occasions. So, gifting you a car is the least I can do. Moreover, don't forget that I have a contract with Audi. They deliver free cars almost every year. The car I'm offering you is just one of them."
Coach Damata laughed. "That's true. How could I forget that the seemingly helpless boy from less than five years ago has already turned into a world-class footballer? Zachary! I accept the car. Thank you very much. Driving such a vehicle is like a dream to . I'll be able to stand out from among my colleagues in Lubumbashi."
"You're welco," Zachary said, smiling. "The car is here in Bukavu. So, you can drop off at the airport at five in the evening and then drive off in your vehicle afterward. Is that okay with you?"
"That's very okay," Coach Damata replied. "Let's just do that."
"Excellent."
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As planned, Zachary returned to his grandma's farm with Coach Damata after leaving the restaurant. He entered the house and instructed the maid to settle the coach in the living room. As for him, he hurried to the bedroom to comnce his preparations for his journey that evening.
Thirty minutes later, he marched out of the house with his suitcase and dropped it in the vehicle's boot. He then called his employees over and gave them detailed instructions on how he expected them to conduct themselves while he was away. After that, he turned to Coach Damata, the plump and aged man standing a few ters away.
"The gentleman over there is Coach Samson Damata," he said to his employees. "He'll represent when I'm away. Rember to respect him and to take his instructions seriously. Okay?"
"Okay." All the employees responded, more or less in unison.
"Good." Zachary smiled, nodding. "I'm going. So, let's et again when I return. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," they replied.
"Coach Damata, let's go," he said, glancing at his watch. "It's almost four. I'm about to be late for my flight."
"Have you finished organizing everything? Do you have your passport and IDs with you?"
"Yes to all questions," Zachary replied. "Let's just go."
"Okay," Coach Damata replied before jumping into the driver's seat. "Let's go."
Zachary nodded and settled into the front passenger seat. He fastened his seatbelt, and off they went, driving out of his late grandma's farm before joining the murram road, heading towards the city. They had comnced their short journey to Kavumu Airport, the only airline transit hub in Bukavu.
At a distance, Zachary couldn't help but turn his head around to glance back at his grandma's farm through the vehicle's rear windshield. At that mont, he had a feeling that it would be a long ti before he would return to the place.
"Are you okay?" Coach Damata asked, glancing briefly at him from the driver's seat.
"I'm okay," Zachary replied, sighing and turning his gaze away as his grandma's farm faded in the distance. "Let's just move on."
"Okay."
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