LOST is an original Lapatutu fiction following Henry’s life journey. All characters, locations, and events in this work are fictional; any resemblance to real entities is entirely coincidental. [Click here if you missed Part 1]
Henry doubled his efforts to build his knowledge base. He spent countless hours in the school library, reading the newspapers every single day to stay on top of current affairs. He made it a point, especially, to read the “boring” sections—the ones packed with statistics and world affairs.
While the few other students who picked up newspapers went straight for celebrity gossip, Henry knew debate wasn’t about which musician had dropped a new song; it was about global trade, economic policies, and their real-world impact on Africa.
This, he had learned, was the secret, and indeed, it kept elevating him in the debate fraternity.
When his name was read out during the school assembly, announcing his selection for the school debate team heading to the Inter-Continental Debate Championship, a surge of electricity shot through him. He started to sweat immediately and his hands were shaking. He was the youngest student in the school’s history to make the Championship team.
The hall erupted.
His classmates cheered him on for bringing their class such an honor. In that brief moment, his financial status was stripped away, and they celebrated him as a hero. As he took all of it in, something profound shifted within him. He felt a surge of validation, a powerful sense of belonging and achievement he had rarely, if ever, experienced.
For the very first time, the sting of those inadequate visitation Sundays and the quiet shame of his family’s limitations faded into the background. In that moment, Henry felt that he was somebody.
The Inter-Continental Debate Championship was an event of significant prestige, bringing together the brightest young debaters from five continents. The format for the competition was the highly respected and challenging British Parliamentary style, a rigorous test of quick thinking, persuasive argumentation, and strategic rebuttal.
That year, the Championship was hosted at Adinkra, marking only the second time the tournament was held in Africa. Henry was somewhat sad that he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to travel—the previous tournament had been held in Australia—but nonetheless, he was glad that on home soil, more students would get to witness him in action. It was a win regardless.
As the buses started ferrying student debaters from all over the world, alongside news trucks from international media, it quickly became clear that this was not business as usual.
By the time the competition started, Henry had already been interviewed twice. On both occasions, journalists asked how it felt to make history as the youngest debater on the team. Both times, he delivered a line he had once heard the Governor say on the radio: “I believe the true measure of making history will be when we win the Championship!”
He had picked up the phrase when the Governor was commissioning a long-overdue murram road in Miraje. The project had taken ages, and the Governor was right at the center of its grand opening. When an interviewer asked how it felt to make history by finally commissioning a road that had taken so long, he responded with what Henry heard as pure wisdom: “True history will be when the road is completely finished. That is when I will have made true history.”
And, as you might have guessed, he instantly became the star of the moment.
Henry and his teammate fought their way through the intense competition, making it all the way to the finals of the Championship. The grand stage was set for a debate on the compelling theme: “This House Believes that Free University Education is a Detriment to National Economic Development.”
Henry and his teammate were the Closing Opposition. This meant they were the last voices to counter the arguments put forth by the Government side and even their own side’s Opening Opposition. Henry, specifically, held the pivotal role of Opposition Whip, the very last speaker.
As he delivered his closing argument, his voice carried the depth of the unfiltered truth of someone who had lived through the very hardship they were debating:
“They speak of economic detriment, of unsustainable burdens. But I ask you, what is the greater detriment than the silence of a thousand uneducated voices? What is the heavier burden than the weight of discarded dreams? Free university education is not a drain on our national coffers; it is the vital irrigation of our nation’s very soul, ensuring that no brilliance, no matter how humble its origin, ever withers from neglect.”
The audience erupted.
Not just with applause, but with a thunderous standing ovation. Chairs scraped back across the floor as hundreds of spectators rose to their feet, their faces filled with awe and admiration at the power of his words and the conviction in his delivery.
In the front row, the Guest of Honor—the Minister of Education herself—also rose to her feet. Her face showed deep appreciation and visible approval. Her gesture underscored the magnitude of the achievement.
Henry, still standing at the podium, beheld it all.
The sea of standing figures, the roar of the crowd, the beaming faces, and the Minister’s personal acknowledgment. In that overwhelming moment, he was filled by an intoxicating surge of validation and the undeniable thrill of his own, hard-won power. He was truly somebody.
Though his team came in a close second, losing by a mere two points, Henry himself was the undisputed victor of the day. He received the prestigious ‘Most Eloquent Debater’ award. The honor came in the form of a striking glass plaque, intricately engraved with gold lettering that declared: “This is to certify that HENRY ZAMUNDA stood out as the Most Eloquent Debater in the 17th Edition of the Inter-Continental Debate Championship.”
The award also came with a cash prize of 1,000 Shangas (50 USD). It was the very same amount he had desperately pleaded for in Primary Five, the money that would have taken him to the newly renovated Wildlife Center to see the white tiger, but which his family simply couldn’t afford.
Now, it was handed to him as a symbol of his triumph.
It was the Minister of Education who personally handed him the award, shaking his hand firmly before posing for a memorable photo. His team might not have claimed first place, but Henry had undeniably triumphed. His name echoed throughout the hall as people clamored for his attention, offering congratulations.
It was a powerful moment of déjà vu. The nine-year-old boy within him felt a profound satisfaction, receiving almost the same kind of attention and deference that he had once only observed being given to the Governor of Miraje.
In that moment, standing under the bright lights of the championship hall, Henry got a full taste of it. Admiration. Respect. Money. Fame. He wished every single day could be just like this one, bathed in such glory.
Almost all the guest speakers who spoke kept referring back to his speech, quoting his words as if they were gospel. Other debaters, moments ago fierce rivals, now swarmed him, eager to talk and capture a picture with the newfound star.
And the attention from the girls—a thrilling, intoxicating new force—was the sweetest part of it all.
‘Yes! This is what I want.’ The thought blazed through Henry’s mind.
Henry has 1,000 Shanga. It is his own money. He can use it in any way he desires. What does Henry do with his first taste of financial independence? Click here to read Part 3!
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