In this country sport has no political value. Only politics has a value as a national sport. But here in the ghetto, that is the hope for us the most forsaken of this country. Without sport or music, there is little hope to move out of ghetto. Some choose crime. But crime is an option quite dangerous.

For those who have eyes to see, many untimely deaths are the proof if not the deterrent.

Sports help us to forget our daily misfortune. Most of the children were school drop-outs or are unschooled. To pay school fees was a feat which, only some few selected could afford. Money was wanting for many. Most men were jobless drunkards and the women were to manage the households with whatever they could afford through whichever means they deemed worthy to use or rather at their reach. We lived in squalid conditions with no proper healthcare services. We were the most abandoned. We were so poor that you could hardly see a crawling insect in our premises talk less of our shack.

The numerous children mostly seen in the dirty streets playing were left on their own. They were virtually their own masters if not the jacks of their peers. Their games ended most often than not with fights, torn clothes and bleeding nose. But who cared? There were other chickens to be roasted (if one could talk of roasting chickens in this area of extreme misery, almost an impossible event). Life has become a trial. Parents had no time for their offspring. To survive was a must.

And to live, a precarious adventure, that, few could afford to fumble through.

At the end only some rags were left hanging on bodies, new clothes were rare .On Christmas, the Missionaries of Charity who visited the ghettos offered us the children what was seen as new clothes in our lowly state .The clothes were second hand if not third hand materials. They gave us what they could afford. We left then our rags the period of the Christmas after which we took back our beloved overly patched rags .The clothes were taken with stern attention by the mothers to keep at the surest place for a hypothetical party in the ghetto .A party worthy of that name, occurred once a month of Sundays.

I grew in that situation at the school of the streets .The streets were good tutors and the schooling was free of charge if not, not as expensive as the other schools. Whoever wished to join the streets was highly welcome; with great costless ceremony.

One stayed the time that one wished to stay .A whole life, why not? It was up to one’s personal inclination.

Most of the children on the streets had already undergone a prison sentence, some months or some years - depending on the crime. Some for a loaf of bread or for a bone of chicken at the baker’s reserved for his big and ferocious watch dog. All the people in the ghetto were criminals according to the acceptation of the bourgeois in this country .All the misdeeds were charged on the ghetto people. They were the scapegoats for all the misery befalling on this country. The question is how did the ghettos come into being? No anybody cared to give an answer. To be poor is a crime. Outrageous! I was not jailed at my age .It was a record in this jungle .I had no formal degree either that was no record in the ghetto anyway .It was the commonplace thing.

The grocers were the veritable shylocks, ruthless and heartless and merciless. They made their fortune on cheating over people. They held books containing the records of all the families. Some families, due to their past records could be no more allowed to buy goods on credit. They were listed on the red list as black sheep. They had monopoly of the market of foodstuffs and anything of vital importance. They grocers agreed on setting down the prices that suited them better. Among them exists the honour code of criminals. Solidarity and loyalty to the group. In that way, they were united in suffering up and cheating over all. They were only respectable rascals.

Dad was a ragged jobless who stayed all day long in the bar where they sold a cheap alcoholic drinks .A veritable poison .He killed him slowly through that drink. But he did not care. According to him one dies of one thing or the other .One dies once .All the rest was nonentity. Death was cruel and awful in the ghetto.

Sport was the only hope for the people of the ghetto to make name in this country and if only they were not frustrated in their enterprise. The government officials never entertained any joy in helping out the youth in the ghetto. They were more at ease in embezzling all the funds allocated in developing the underprivileged areas with no qualms.

The majority of the national team players were from the ghetto. They did not have any adequate supervision and training that notwithstanding they performed well better than their peers outside the ghetto. The hardship of life in ghetto was by itself a serious training. They were poorly paid but they were local magnates over against the mass of those who did not have their fortunes. They could give a helping hand with the little they gained.

The luckiest were those who went abroad they were the idols of the ghetto .The government officials did not like them. They were those who have broken away from the bondage of hopelessness in the ghetto. They were like kings. They were better of than their counterpart in the country. However, they remained very attached to their background.

For the past intercontinental games the players were poorly trained. The money allocated to them vanished in the air. They were less-than-nothing, little rats or small rats according to the style of the speaker. They were expected to bring back trophies to the country. And whatever they got as money they received the hundredth part. What a pity! But it was a real fortune here in the ghetto. Here in the ghetto, one could stay a whole month without getting up to a dollar.

*****

Today Nico has come back from U.K. Nico is a child from the ghetto .He was now the pride of the ghetto .A generous heart indeed .He was playing with Manchester United .He was worth millions now. He brought gifts for everybody in the ghetto. There is a school in building to offer a basic free education in the ghetto. People came all over to submit their problems. Nico could not have time on his own .He was eaten up always by the people.

I was dreaming to become like Nico one-day .I myself was called Nico .I will be Nico II by then, by the power and will of God, so was I praying. People were pretty religious in the ghetto as they suffered too much .So they relied on God for help. Will God come one day for me?

I could run faster than the hare but the national Olympic committee will have nothing to do with me .I remain but a local champion. For the international competition they selected their kin. I was none of theirs. That was the truth. What a hopeless country maimed and crippled by corruption. Hitherto that was the situation, my situation and many others in this country.

In two months times the Olympic games of Calcutta will start. There was no chance of appearing on the premiership .The kin were numerous. They will do the staging as usual; there will be no medal for the country. I was deeply angered. That was too unjust.

Dad was agonising in the squalid cubicle were used to live twelve people.

I left them to live with a friend in another shabby shack .The local carpenter did not allow us to borrow his tools we build it with the help of stones as hammers and rusted nails. The shylocks were united over against the rest and our relationships were extremely diplomatic. I am just wondering how can a cat have diplomatic relationship with a mouse.

Today there was a visit in the ghetto a posh black limousine car all air conditioned came into the ghetto looking for me .It was unheard of that a mighty car like that should come close to the ghetto. Rumours about life in the ghetto were awful, beyond imagination a sound mind. People were scared .I was summoned upon. I was confident. I was poor but an honourable poor man .It was a delegation of the Olympic committee, there was a problem. The nephew of the chairman of the committee originally on the runners list had had a car crash and could no more be able to represent the country. I was asked whether I could replace him .Of course I could. Even if the competition was to start up right now .In the ghetto one has to be always ready. Life was tough and one could not afford to be careless. Every opportunity was a golden one .In the ghetto that was twice true. The survival of the fitters was so true especially over against all odds. It was three days to the date of the competition.

*****

We were ten athletes supervised by thirty people .All at the expenses of the country’s budget .A minority is getting away with the country’s resources.

The delegation was composed of the minister of sports his wife, his children and his entourage, the president of the national Olympic committee and his entourage, the president of the athletes committee and his mistress, one general practitioner and his assistant and a coach and a supporter of the team. There was no journalist .It was cheaper getting second-hand news from others.

We had ten euros per day and per person while the rest of the delegation had hundred euros per day and per person and an additional budget for the miscellany of the minister and his entourage .The national athletes needed a strong group to support them. Who is stupid? That can be the question not to ask.

The first day of the competition went away without any major happenings and with no medal for the country without surprise, as usual. The second day knew a day of obscurity with a case of doping in one African team. Most of our athletes were already worn out. Worthless! Some were sent back right away.

I was the only one still competing with one guy from the ghetto.

We were now about to run for the finals of the hundred meters steeple, two hundred meters hurdles and four hundred meters hurdles. I enrolled myself already. With the little money I got, I could save something to enjoy myself and my people back home.

There have been days, when I stayed empty stomach but now that I could afford tree square meals per day .I have no cause to complain. Other athletes never suffered in their lives, so the competition was tough for them. In the ghetto every day was a competition to survive.

After the third day I have won the hundred meters steeple and got the third place on the two hundreds meters hurdles and failed at the ear difference the third place in the four hundred meters hurdles. But now I will give two medals to our country.

Now we were resting and many people were congratulating me I was the new discovery from the continent and already the fans were pampering me. Throughout our country my name was being pronounced like a new idol. It was great now my dream was becoming true. The rest of the athletes have been lost desperately in the nameless crowd of learning athletes .My name was being shown on the screen of the Olympic stadium over and over again.

Towards the evening a rumour ran through the Olympic village the first three in the four hundred meters hurdles were doped. They were disqualified and stripped of their titles and banned for three years from competition. Miracle I am the new champion .I was overjoyed .I won three medals for our country. Unheard of! The scandal too was unheard of. Decidedly my star was rising higher than expected and the sky will be my limit. Could the sky really be limit? That maybe an interesting question. Wait and see.

The honour resided in the ghetto .I was seeing the daughter of the minister looking at me with a favourable eye now .I snubbed her .Who is stupid? That might be the question to ask now. I had no time to waste with that stupid mummy girl.

I received my medals with the Olympian calm as Zeus at the pantheon.

I was summoned up by the international Olympic committee chairman who wanted to talk to me directly, knowing the corruption in the system, to tell me about the proposition to go for further training abroad .I did not need any further training I was good already but I needed further ascension to break away with the bondage of suffering.

I was proposed Germany, France or UK .I chose UK to have the opportunity to talk with my fellow citizen .Two Nico will not be too many for the ghetto.

Henceforth the ghetto will know no more dark night .I will fight for my people and turn the ghetto of vile peoples into the gate to life.

I have just landed at our international airport .No sooner have the people seen me than a big sheering rose up to heavens. Nico…. Nico……