The heat in Abuja was nothing like Manchester.
Khali stepped off the team bus, Nigeria's green-and-white badge shining on his chest. The air smelled of grass, dust, and expectation.
This wasn't club football.
This was home.
Around him were players he had watched on TV growing up — defenders from Serie A, midfielders from La Liga, forwards from the Bundesliga.
And then…
Bello stepped down from the same bus.
Same roots.Same flag.Same dream again.
But now, no blue.No red.
Only green.
Camp Reality
Training was brutal.
No special treatment.No "academy talent" respect.
The senior players pressed hard, tackled harder, and tested the newcomers.
During a small-sided game, Khali lost the ball once.
A veteran midfielder snapped,"Move faster! This isn't England."
Khali clenched his jaw and kept playing.
Bello, on the other hand, scored twice in the drill.
Whispers started immediately.
"United boy is sharp.""City boy is technical, but can he handle Africa football?"
The comparison returned — quietly, dangerously.
The Divide
At dinner, the younger players gathered together.
Some sat closer to Bello.Some leaned toward Khali.
Not intentionally.Not hatred.
Just competition.
That night in the dorm, Bello broke the silence.
"They're watching everything," he said.
Khali nodded. "They always have."
Bello hesitated, then added, "Only one of us might start."
Khali looked at him.
Not angry.Not surprised.
"That won't change how I play," Khali replied.
Bello smiled slightly. "Good."
But both knew — this was different.
This wasn't a derby.
This was national pride.
Coach's Test
The head coach gathered them before the final training match.
"I don't care about your clubs," he said firmly."I care about who can carry Nigeria when the pressure comes."
He looked directly at Khali and Bello.
"You two — same background, different styles.Tomorrow, you play on opposite teams."
Murmurs spread.
This wasn't coincidence.
This was a test.
The Training Match
The game was intense.
Khali controlled tempo, demanded the ball, organized movement.
Bello attacked space, pressed defenders, took risks.
Neither dominated.
Neither failed.
They canceled each other out.
Until the final minutes.
Khali slipped a pass that should've been an assist.
The striker missed.
Bello received a perfect cross.
He hit the post.
The match ended 0–0.
Silence followed.
Something Interesting Happens
After training, the assistant coach pulled only Khali aside.
Quietly.
"Coach wants to see you tonight. Alone."
Khali felt his chest tighten.
Across the pitch, Bello was laughing with teammates — unaware.
Khali walked away slowly, one question burning in his mind:
Is this my moment… or the beginning of another test?