HAM

Steam filled the small bathroom, clinging to the tiles, the mirror, his skin. Ham stood under the showerhead, water beating down on his head and shoulders. His hands pressed against the wall, forehead leaning into the spray.

“I hate myself,” he whispered, his voice breaking against the rush of water. “I hate my life.”

The words kept coming, uninvited but unstoppable.

“All this money… it’s nothing. I don’t have happiness. I don’t feel fulfilled. What’s the point? Why am I even trying to be a good guy? For what? For who?”

Mutale’s face flashed in his mind, distant, guarded, unreachable.

“I’m not doing this because of her. I’m just… trying to be responsible. Trying to act like I’m someone worth coming home to, but she doesn’t care. We don’t match. We don’t flow. She doesn’t fit my world.”

He clenched his fist and slammed it against the tile. The dull thud echoed in the cramped space.

“I’m tired of this. I’m tired of all of this. It’s like life has never liked me.”

Memories began to claw their way in. The last day he saw his mother. The way she turned her back when he was just a boy. And now, years later, now that he had made it, her messages on WhatsApp, filled with apologies and attempts to reconnect.

“How did she even get my number?”

“What does she want now?” His voice grew sharp. “I don’t want her. I can’t even think about her.”

His thoughts shifted again, dark, unsteady.

I need to send Mutale away. Just… send her away. If Zainab were here, she’d understand. She wouldn’t make me work for comfort. She wouldn’t care how I touched her…

He turned off the shower abruptly, wrapping a towel around his waist. His bare feet padded across the room until he reached the bed. From beneath it, he dragged out a black case and snapped it open. Inside, white pills glinted under the light.

“One pill,” he muttered, picking it up. “Just to forget. Just to feel something other than… this.”

He hesitated. “No… I can’t. I’m playing next week. Doping test.”

He laughed bitterly. “What does it even matter? I could sit it out. Tell them I’m sick.” He looked up, as if speaking to the ceiling. “God… am I playing with my career? My future?”

He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, pill still in hand.

“Maybe I need a therapist. Maybe I need to talk to someone. No. I can’t. I can’t tell anyone that I am losing my mind. Maybe I should go to Mutale. Ask her to pray for me.”

Then, just as quickly, the thought turned sour.

“I don’t believe in God. God doesn’t exist.”

He stared at the pill again, his breathing uneven. “I don’t want to throw my future away… but I’m tired. I’m tired of this numb feeling. I’m not happy. I’m not sad. I’m just here.”

The frustration swelled until he slammed the pill down on the bed.

“My life cannot just be about football. Why does everything feel so heavy? Why can’t I just brush it off?”

He picked up the pill again, then flung it across the room. It hit the wall and fell soundlessly to the floor.

His eyes landed on the vase on the nightstand. In one sudden motion, he grabbed it and hurled it against the wall. It exploded into shards, scattering across the carpet.

Breathing hard, he whispered, “I actually need the pill. I’m sick. I need to feel… normal.”

He took another from the case, holding it between trembling fingers.

“I have no family. No one. Japheth and Shem… they have each other. Mutale won’t stay. She can leave whenever she wants. I’m alone in this bloody world, even the child I thought I’d have, is gone.”

He popped the pill into his mouth.

Then he slid down the side of the bed to the floor, back against the wall, and let the sobs come, raw, broken, unrestrained.

LUSAKA, ZAMBIA

Kaweme curled into Japheth’s arms, her head resting against his chest. Japheth’s fingers combed gently through her hair, his other hand drawing small circles along her back.

“Thank God for the gift of our lives,” he whispered, though his mind was already drifting to the meetings waiting for him tomorrow. The hum of corporate responsibilities pressed at the edges of his thoughts, issues he had to anticipate and block before they became fires.

Kaweme’s breathing grew soft and steady as she fell into sleep, pulling him back into the moment. Still, a voice in his heart pressed in. 

Call your brother.

He frowned slightly. “Lord, I’m praying for him, that’s what matters. He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

But the voice came again, firm, clear: 

Japheth, call your brother.

“Okay, Lord,” he murmured. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

Now.

He exhaled deeply, then carefully lifted Kaweme’s head from his chest, resting her gently on the pillow. He kissed her forehead, lingered for a moment, and then rose.

The living room was still and dim. Japheth stood there for a moment before sinking to his knees. His voice broke into quiet worship, words tumbling out in tongues. “Oh God… he feels so far away, help me reach him. I can’t, I will rather hold a fast.”

From somewhere deep inside, the reply came, soft but unshakable: 

Obedience is better than sacrifice.

HAM

The pill was still in Ham’s mouth. Even as the tears streamed down his face, he pushed himself off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He spat it into the toilet and turned on the tap, rinsing his mouth before brushing his teeth hard.

“What am I doing to myself?” he muttered, rinsing again. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

His phone rang.

Ham glanced at the screen. A strange number. He wasn’t going to pick, especially now, with his mother finding new ways to reach him. He cut the call and headed back toward the bed.

A ping broke the silence.

He wanted to ignore it, but curiosity pried his eyes open to the screen.

Dear Ham,

It’s your brother, Japheth. I’d love to speak to you. Please pick my call.

“Japheth?” Ham muttered. “What else does he have to say to me? No.”

The phone rang again. He cut it.

It rang again. Cut.

Again. Cut.

Another message came through:

I don’t want to bother you, but we must speak. I don’t have peace.

Ham stared at the words for a long moment, then picked up when the phone rang again.

“Brother,” he said flatly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“You’ve been on my mind,” Japheth replied, voice steady.

“Isn’t it a little too late for that?”

“Whenever we wake up, Ham,” Japheth said softly, “that’s our morning.”

“It’s always night for me here. I never wake up.”

“That’s not a good thing to say. God has blessed you—”

“That’s what you think. Is that why you’re calling? To reconcile with your brother the celebrity? The superstar? What do you want? What do you need from me?”

“I’m sure you know I don’t need anything from you. You know I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true. I heard you married the billionaire heiress. Big boy. You’ve always known how to align yourself with the best opportunities since you were a boy. I’ll give you that.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Japheth said. “I was fine even before I married my wife. How much does a man really need to live if he’s alone? I didn’t need her money. I love her. She loves me. We got married.”

“It must be nice to have that,” Ham said bitterly. “The kind of life you want. To fall in love with the right person.”

“The Lord orders my steps. Gives me a good life, gives me happiness. I can only thank Him for what He brings my way.”

“Wow. God’s best child. Lucky you. Some of us aren’t that lucky. Some of us stay sad and heavy-hearted, even with all the wealth in the world.”

“I think that’s why God told me to call you,” Japheth said gently. “To tell you that He loves you. He wants you. If you give your life to Him, He can make it all make sense.”

“Shut up, Japheth. You left me when I was ten, to a father you knew was completely useless. You know you were the one I loved most, and now you’re telling me to accept Jesus? It’s too late for that. Stop preaching to me, I don’t want you.”

“I’m sorry,” Japheth said quietly. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Ham, I am sorry. I love you, and leaving when I left… it was the best thing that could have happened for any of us.”

“Speak for yourself. Don’t make it look like your selfish decision to leave was somehow good for us.”

“Ham… how do you think you got drafted into the national team?”

“I was lucky. My talent got me there.”

“Yes, your talent opened the door, but I was the one who submitted your name to Luyando’s father. Through him, you got the trials.”

There was a pause, dead air on the line.

“…What?” Ham’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

“Yes,” Japheth said. “It was me.”

Ham let out a hollow laugh. “Wow. Thank you, right? Is that what you want to hear? To take the glory again? You’ve always tried to take the credit for sending me and Shem to school, making us feel like leaving us was somehow noble. And now my football success is yours to claim too. So thank you, Japheth, for being a good brother. Mission accomplished.”

“That’s not why I called,” Japheth said, his tone calm but firm. “If I wanted to boast about it, I’d have told you years ago. I kept it quiet because I didn’t want you to see it that way. I’m only telling you now because it matters that you know I love you. I want a relationship with you and I believe God wants us to have one too. Please, Ham.”

“See,” Ham said, exhaling slowly, “I don’t have a problem with you. At the end of the day, a man does what he feels is best. You chose to go, and it worked out for you. I can’t begrudge you for that. I’m just… dealing with a lot of demons right now. I’d rather focus on that than a reunion.”

“Fixing things with me won’t stop you from fighting your demons,” Japheth said. “But I know the only real way to win that fight, Jesus Christ. Ham, whatever you’re facing, He can handle it. Give your life to Him. Hide yourself in Him, and you’ll see your life start to make sense.”

Ham gave a short laugh. “I’m not fighting actual demons, Japheth. I mean… demons as a slang.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Japheth replied with a faint chuckle. “And trust me, you are fighting demons. The only difference is whether you fight them alone or with Jesus.”

Ham’s voice softened just enough to sound civil. “Thank you, Japheth. I appreciate the call. Good night.”

“I’m going to be calling you regularly now,” Japheth said.

Ham frowned. “To what end? Why force a relationship?”

“I’m not forcing anything,” Japheth said. “We already have a relationship. It’s just time to activate it.”

Ham was silent for a moment. “Okay, let’s see how this goes.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” Japheth said.

Ham ended the call and stared at the phone in his hand.

A scoff escaped him. “He really thinks he can just waltz back into my life?” He shook his head, tossing the phone onto the bed, scoffing under his breath, but even as he tried to shake it off, something shifted inside him.

He wouldn’t admit it to Japheth, not now, maybe not ever, but a part of him was… glad that Japheth had called. After all these years, they finally had a proper conversation.

The warmth from that thought lingered, uninvited.

He stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t coming. Not tonight. Not after losing today’s match.

We’d better win the next one, he told himself.

In one swift motion, he swung his legs off the bed, grabbed his gym bag and began tossing in his gear. Midnight or not, he needed to move, to sweat, to shake the heaviness off. The gym downstairs, with its wall-to-wall glass, was calling.

On his way, he slowed outside Mutale’s door. Music drifted out from behind it, low but insistent.

So, she’s not sleeping either, he thought.

He knocked. A moment later, the door opened.

Even in Pyjamas, he found her attractive.

HAM & MUTALE

“Hey, beautiful,” Ham said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Mutale looked him in the eye. “Where are you going, Ham? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“You don’t seem to be sleeping either,” he replied. “Your music stopped me. I’m going to the gym.”

“Ham, you need to rest.” She folded her arms. “I’m worried. What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “But I’m better… better than the last time you saw me. Trust me.”

“What changed? What helped you?”

“Japheth called.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? And you actually picked up?”

“I don’t even know why I did,” Ham admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah. And… I don’t know. I feel a bit better, can’t explain it. I still feel terrible, though.”

“Why do you feel terrible? What’s wrong with you? What’s chasing you? What are you chasing?”

“I don’t even sleep well anymore,” Ham said. “My mind just… it’s never settled. That’s the only way I can describe it. And with you here, I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”

“So I’m the problem?”

“No.” He let his gym bag drop to the floor and stepped closer, cupping her cheek in his palm. “The problem could never be you, Mutale. Don’t you get it? I love you. I’ve always loved you. I can’t remember a time in my life I didn’t. You’ve been the only sweet, steady thing in my life. The only thing that makes sense.”

“But now you’re married to me,” she said quietly, “and it feels like I’m your mistake.”

“No,” Ham said, shaking his head. “I am your mistake. The only thing worth anything in my life is football. Take football away and I’m nothing, and that scares me. I wonder if I’m just going to ruin your life. You’re so precious, like glass. I don’t want you to break.”

“I’m not glass, Ham. I’m not going to break. We’ll be okay… if only we commit our lives to Jesus.”

“There you go again. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Japheth just spoke to me about Jesus, and now you’re doing the same thing. I don’t want Jesus. There’s nothing like “God.” A God who allows pain to exist in the world doesn’t exist to me. You know what we went through as children.”

“And do you know what I went through as a child?” she countered softly. “But Jesus rescued me from that.”

“Jesus is just something you cling to for comfort because the world is so broken. You need something to hold on to, so you pick Him.”

“That’s what you think?”

“That’s what I think,” Ham replied firmly. “Anyway, I’m going to the gym.”

“No,” Mutale said, blocking the way. “You’re going to sleep.”

“But I can’t sleep. I walk around that room and it feels like—”

“You can sleep here,” she interrupted. “In my room. You don’t have to be there.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she said, tugging him gently inside.

He started to pull off his vest, but she shook her head. “Leave it on.”

“I’m not going to jump you,” he teased.

“Yeah, but still, keep it on.”

She climbed into her side of the bed. Ham went to the other, resting his head on the pillow. She turned off the music, switched off the light, and said softly, “Now, Ham… sleep. May the grace of the Lord be with you and give you peace that passes all understanding. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

She turned onto her side. Ham stared at the ceiling for a long moment, then smiled faintly. He shifted till he got to her side, then he folded himself into her, curling around her warmth.

“Ham, what are you doing?” she murmured.

“I’m sleeping in the arms of my lover. Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” she whispered. “Not a bad thing.”

And they slept.

HAM

Ham, a notoriously light sleeper, was the first to wake, four hours later.

He had slept like a baby in Mutale’s arms. God… this girl carries peace, he thought. It was as if lying next to her had given him a dose of it himself.

But the moment was interrupted by a phone that kept beeping.

He reached for it, thinking it was his, because when he’d changed phone last month, he’d bought Mutale, the exact model… same case too. He’d wanted to “twin” with her.

The name ‘Evan’ kept flashing across the notifications.

I miss you.

Are we seeing today?

I need to show you the rest of London. Do you think you’ve seen all of London?

You didn’t respond to my last message and I was worried.

Did I offend you on Sunday? Please put this man out of his misery.

Ham stared, jaw tightening. “What?”

He tossed the phone onto the bed. “Mutale.”

She stirred lazily. “I’m still sleeping… Why are you ruining my morning schedule? I’m not a morning person.”

“This can’t wait,” Ham said sharply. “Who is this Evan guy? Why is he sending my wife messages like this?”

Mutale yawned. “Calm down. It’s that guy, the one I told you I met on the airplane. Do you remember him? He took me around on Sunday. He’s probably just wondering why he hasn’t heard from me. I haven’t even replied to him.”

“This is not good,” Ham muttered. “He can’t be chatting with another man’s wife like that—”

“This is the second time you’ve called me ‘wife’ in this short conversation,” she interrupted. “So I’m your wife now when you want to stake your claim, but not when you want to forget me and go to the club,”

“You can’t even say that,” Ham shot back. “I came to you last night, didn’t I? Even though you turned me away, I still didn’t go out. I’m your husband. I don’t want anyone telling you they’ll show you London. I will show you London.”

Mutale’s lips curved into a smile. She cupped his cheek. “Ham… are you being jealous?”

“See, forget that,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t share you with anyone. I can’t have you falling in love with another man who’s more attentive, more present. I know I’m not perfect, but…”

“Calm down, Ham,” she said gently. “One minute you think you’re my mistake for marrying you, the next you’re acting insecure.”

“Even if I wasn’t married to you, I’d still be insecure,” he admitted. “I don’t want any man around you. It’s a good thing I married you, actually.”

He pulled her closer. “Please delete that guy’s number and block him.”

“That wouldn’t be a good thing to do,” she said.

“I can’t have you keeping another man as your alternative for whenever I fail,” Ham pressed.

“That’s not what this is,” she replied. “Trust me, Evan is just this funny guy who…”

“Eh! So you think he’s funny?” Ham groaned. “I’m finished.”

Mutale laughed. “If it puts you out of your misery, I can block him.”

“That’s perfect. Do it now.”

“I will,” she said, “but I have to greet him first. Thank him for his friendship. I can’t just ghost him.”

“There’s no big deal in ghosting him,” Ham insisted.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Fine. Do it your way. But get rid of him.”

Mutale smiled.

“Can I kiss you?” Ham asked suddenly.

“Try it and see,” she teased.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be deep.”

“Is there anything you do that is not deep?” she smirked.

He blushed. “Give me a win.”

“Okay,” she said.

Ham grinned and pulled her into him.