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I could pretty well recall a day at Gbɔŋɔfil when Yellow Man challenged Tumbu to a one-on-one duel.
That was the morning I would never forget. Yellow Man or Oyala was the first to dribble, dazzle and score against Tumbu and we all celebrated.
By design, Tumbu pinched the ball from the feet of Yellow Man, started running circles around him, passing the ball over Yellow Man’s head (lokus), between his legs, his sides and pretending to give the ball to Yellow Man and then withdrawing (pɔldrɔ) it. Gbɔŋɔ Field went wild. It was at that moment that the mother of Yellow Man happened to pass by on her way to the market and she saw what Tumbu was doing to her son.
She like every loving mother rushed to the rescue with the words, ‘Tumbu nɔ kil mi pikin o. Yɛloman kam lɛ wi go na makit,’ but Yellow Man reluctantly refused and decided to let Tumbu overhwelm him with superior ball dribbling, control and finishing.
By the time, the mother of Yellow Man returned from the market, Yellow Man was in serious trouble because he was exhausted, drenched in sweat and wide-eyed longing for a rescue. This time when his mother asked him to come home with her, he hurriedly agreed. The field erupted in applause for Tumbu and in sympathy for Yellow Man.
