The Mombasa branch of the Kenya Revenue Authority occupied a modern six-story building near the city center, its glass facade reflecting the morning sunlight with an almost blinding intensity.
Amani stood before it, the weight of responsibility pressing down on his fifteen-year-old shoulders with far more force than any football match had ever exerted.
In his hand, he clutched a folder containing bank statements, transfer confirmations, and the tax assessment documents Fatuma had helped them prepare.
Today was the day they would clear all tax owed on the Malindi land. A financial sacrifice that represented their most decisive move yet in the battle against Jumaane and his powerful backers.
"Are you ready?" Halima asked, her voice gentle but firm. She had initially protested when Amani insisted on using his Utrecht earnings for this purpose, but had ultimately recognized the necessity of his decision.
"Yes," Amani replied, his [Unshakable Mentality (S)] engaging as it did before crucial matches. The system confirmed his resolve: [Decision Confidence: Maximum - Resource Allocation Aligned with Primary Mission Objective].
Mr. Vermeer had been surprisingly supportive when Amani had explained the situation, omitting the supernatural elements but conveying the essential threat to his family's land.
"Family comes first, Amani," the Utrecht officiant had said. "The club understands that. We're investing in you as a person, not just as a player." He had helped facilitate the substantial wire transfer with minimal bureaucratic complications, a kindness Amani wouldn't forget.
Inside the revenue authority building, they were directed to the property tax division on the fourth floor.
The office was a study in controlled chaos with stacks of files on every surface, harried-looking staff moving between desks, and a steady stream of citizens waiting with varying degrees of patience to address their tax matters.
The system analyzed the environment: [Bureaucratic Efficiency: Low - Patience Requirement: High].
They joined the queue, Amani acutely aware of the curious glances directed his way. His youth made him stand out in this adult environment of financial obligations and government procedures.
After nearly an hour of waiting, they were finally called to a desk where a middle-aged woman with tired eyes and a no-nonsense expression examined their documents.
"Malindi property, fifty acres, tax arrears dating back seven years," she summarized, looking up with a raised eyebrow. "This is a substantial amount. You're prepared to pay it in full today?"
"Yes," Amani confirmed, sliding across the bank transfer confirmation. "The funds have been wired to the KRA account as specified in the assessment notice."
The woman's expression shifted from skepticism to surprise as she verified the transfer details. Her gaze moved from the documents to Amani, taking in his youth with newfound curiosity. "And you are...?"
"Amani Hamadi," he replied simply. "The property belongs to my mother, Halima Hamadi. I'm assisting with the financial aspects."
Recognition flickered in the woman's eyes. "The footballer? With Utrecht in the Netherlands?"
Amani nodded, somewhat uncomfortable with being recognized but understanding its potential value in this context. The system noted: [Social Capital: Increasing - Recognition Factor: Advantageous].
"My son mentioned you," the woman said, her professional demeanor softening slightly. "He follows European football. Said you were making history as the youngest African in the Eredivisie."
She turned to Halima with a more respectful expression. "You must be very proud."
"I am," Halima confirmed with quiet dignity. "And grateful that his success allows us to resolve these tax matters."
The woman nodded, returning to her professional efficiency but with a noticeably more helpful attitude.
She processed their payment, generating official receipts and tax clearance certificates that confirmed the Malindi property was now fully compliant with all tax obligations.
"These certificates are important," she advised, handing them the documents. "Keep copies in multiple secure locations. They prove your tax compliance status through the next fiscal year."
As they completed the process, Amani noticed a man watching them from across the office middle-aged, expensively dressed, with the confident bearing of someone accustomed to influence.
The system immediately flagged him as it searched his memories: [Subject Identified: David Kariuki - Known Associate of Jumaane Hamadi - Probability of Surveillance: 95%].
"We're being watched," Amani murmured to Halima as they gathered their documents. "One of Jumaane's people."
Halima didn't turn to look, maintaining her composure with admirable restraint. "Let them watch. We have nothing to hide."
They left the revenue authority building with a sense of accomplishment tempered by the knowledge that they had just announced their intentions clearly to their opponents.
The tax payment was a major move in this complex game, removing one of Jumaane's primary leverage points but also demonstrating that they were serious about fighting for the land.
The system calculated the strategic implications: [Tax Clearance Achieved - Vulnerability Removed - Opponent Strategy Disruption: Significant]. It was a necessary sacrifice of resources for a critical gain in security.
As they walked toward their next appointment was a meeting with Coach Juma at Bamburi FC's modest headquarters, Amani found himself reflecting on the financial commitment he had just made.
The tax payment had consumed a significant portion of his Utrecht earnings, funds that represented security and opportunity in a career notorious for its uncertainty. Yet he felt no regret, only a deep certainty that this was exactly how the money should be used.
"You're very quiet," Halima observed as they walked. "Having second thoughts?"
Amani shook his head. "No. Just thinking about priorities. In my..." he caught himself, careful not to reference his past life directly, "...in my mind, I always imagined using my first real earnings for something selfish. A car, maybe, or an apartment in Europe. Instead..."
"Instead, you're protecting a village and honoring your father's legacy," Halima finished for him, her eyes warm with pride. "I think that's a better use, don't you?"
The system noted: [Value Alignment: Confirmed - Resource Allocation Reflecting Core Priorities - Character Development: Positive].
They arrived at Bamburi FC's headquarters to find Coach Juma waiting for them, his expression brightening at their approach. "Good news?" he asked, noting their demeanor.
"The taxes are paid in full," Halima confirmed. "We have the clearance certificates."
Coach Juma's smile was genuine. "Excellent! One less weapon for Jumaane to use against you." He gestured them inside. "Come, let's talk over tea. I have some information that might be useful."
The coach's office was small but meticulously organized, walls covered with team photos dating back decades, shelves lined with trophies and memorabilia from his long career in Kenyan football.
As they settled into chairs, Amani noticed a framed photograph he hadn't seen before of a much younger Coach Juma standing beside a teenage boy in a football kit, both smiling broadly after what appeared to be a match.
Following his gaze, Coach Juma's expression softened. "Your father," he said simply. "When we played together at Malindi Secondary School. He was a decent midfielder, not the talent you have, but smart, always thinking two passes ahead."
The system highlighted this connection: [Historical Link Identified: Coach Juma - Father Relationship - Timeline Significance].
"You never mentioned you played with my father," Amani said, surprised by this revelation.
Coach Juma poured tea for them before responding. "There are many things I haven't had the chance to tell you yet, Amani. Your father and I were more than teammates we were friends, brothers almost. When he died..."
The coach's voice faltered slightly. "It was a great loss, not just to your family."
As they sipped their tea, Coach Juma began sharing stories about Amani's father that filled gaps in his understanding how they had played football together throughout their school years, how his father had shown early leadership qualities that later served him well as a teacher and principal, how they had remained close even as their paths diverged professionally.
"He was the one who encouraged me to pursue coaching when my playing days ended," Coach Juma explained. "Said I understood the game in ways others didn't, that I could develop young talent if given the chance."
The conversation shifted to more recent history, and Coach Juma's expression grew more serious. "There's something you should know, Amani. Something about how you came to Utrecht."
Amani felt a flutter of anticipation. In his past life, the path to professional football had been blocked, his talent wasted. In this life, the opportunity had materialized almost miraculously through the Mombasa AFTA trials.
The system flagged the moment: [Critical Information Incoming - Timeline Divergence Context - Attention Level: Maximum].
"The AFTA trials weren't a coincidence," Coach Juma said carefully. "I called in every favor I had accumulated in thirty years of football to get you that opportunity. The scouts particularly the French and English ones they weren't interested initially. 'Too many raw talents in Africa,' they said. 'Not worth the trip for one player' and when they came you were not selected."
He leaned forward, his voice lowering slightly. "I sent them videos of you playing. They dismissed you as 'technically interesting but tactically naive', 'injury prone', and a 'wasted talent' was the exact phrase one used. But I persisted. I contacted an old friend who now works in Utrecht, Mr Stein and the rest is history."
The system processed this revelation: [Career Origin Clarification - Coach Juma's Intervention Critical - Timeline Divergence Factor Identified].
"You did that for me?" Amani asked, genuinely moved by this revelation. "Why?"
Coach Juma's expression became a complex part affection, part determination, part something deeper that Amani couldn't immediately identify. "For many reasons. Because I saw the extraordinary talent that deserved a chance. Because I promised your father I would look out for you if anything happened to him."
The conversation moved to more immediate concerns: the land situation, the tax payment, and the ongoing title transfer process.
As they prepared to leave, Coach Juma mentioned that training was scheduled for the following day. "The players are eager to work with you again, Amani. Your presence has been... inspirational for them."
Walking back to their Mombasa home, Amani's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts the tax payment securing one aspect of their land defense, Coach Juma's unexpected connection to his past life, the growing complexity of the mission he had thought was his alone.
The system attempted to organize these elements: [Strategic Assessment: Multiple Developments - Integration Required - Sleep Priority: High].
That evening, as Amani sat with his mother and grandmother on the veranda, watching the sunset paint the sky in brilliant oranges and purples, his phone buzzed with a message from
Mr. Vermeer: "Tax transfer confirmed. All well?"
"Yes," Amani replied simply. "Making progress on multiple fronts."
The response came quickly: "Good. Utrecht supports you. Take the time you need."
The simple message carried significant weight; the club's continued backing despite his extended absence was another resource in this complex battle, another indication that this timeline differed from the last in crucial ways.
The system noted: [Support Network: Expanded - Utrecht Connection Stable - Resource Access: Maintained].
As night fell and the household prepared for sleep, Amani found himself drawn to the small balcony off his bedroom.
The Mombasa skyline glittered in the distance, a constellation of human lights mirroring the stars above.
He thought of the village on their land with fifty people whose futures were intertwined with his family's ability to protect their ancestral home.
Most of all, he thought about the well his father had built, a simple structure that provided life-giving water to an entire community. A well that he had not achieved, a well that he had to surpass in this life.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, continued work on the title transfer, training with Bamburi FC, and ongoing vigilance against Jumaane and Mwangi's next moves.
But tonight, Amani Hamadi fifteen-year-old football prodigy, system-enhanced strategist, and guardian of a legacy more complex than he had initially understood, allowed himself a moment of cautious optimism.
The tax gambit had succeeded, removing one vulnerability and possibly another.
And somewhere in Malindi, a stone well built by his father stood as tangible proof of what he had to achieve.