Yo, I'm Ahmid, ya know? Originally from France, but my folks moved to London after some major trouble back home.
I'm an immigrant's kid, a grandson of immigrants, so I know all about the racism we face every damn day. But don't worry, we know how to deal with those idiots. Anyway, I live in Brixton, it's tough, no jobs, just strugglin'. Went to school for a bit till I was 14, then dropped out to hang with my homies in the hood.
We stick together. One day, we had this crazy idea to set up a special little operation at my boy Momo's place.
Momo's a real homie, lives right across from me. We've been kickin' it since we were 8, getting into all sorts of trouble. His parents are gone from London, so his big bro takes care of him, his little bro, and the crib. He's slingin' pizzas for Domino's, so he's hardly ever home, ya dig? We had the whole apartment to ourselves during the day.
So we set up shop with Momo and a few other boys I'll mention later. It was goin' alright, ya know, sellin' to other kids in the hood and hustlin' right outside the equivalent of our middle school.
Things were goin' smooth, makin' money, savin' up to avoid future trouble, Insha'Allah.
I ain't gonna drag this story forever. Time went by till one day, we were chillin', watchin' TV and smokin' joints when Souleymane came huffin' and puffin'.
Souleymane's been around here forever, you know? Part of our crew with Momo, Mehdi, and me. Mehdi wasn't around at that moment, still doin' some shady stuff.
Souleymane was the smartest one in the bunch, but he had the gift of gab, man. He could convince anyone.
"Yo, guys, we got some weird-ass mail."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I dunno, it's some strange stuff, talkin' about a school for wizards, supplies... What the hell, is this some Moroccan sorcery?"
"Don't be paranoid, bro. Let me see the letter."
We read the whole letter with Momo. To my surprise, we couldn't believe it. It's like the cops were messin' with us, or worse, maybe they thought we were crazy. Or maybe it was those guidance counselors still tryin' to mess with us.
Either way, it didn't smell right. We had this feeling that some messed-up stuff was gonna happen this week, maybe even tonight. Or maybe, just maybe, it was all real. We didn't know for sure.
I decided to re-read that devilish letter to understand what the heck it was talkin' about, you know?
"Yo, Soul, it's 'cause of you we got that letter."
"Are you serious, bro? I was just doin' some easy deals by the school, chill out, man. It's probably some kids messin' around."
"Who said I'm freakin' out? I'm gonna smack you, fool. We're gonna end up in jail 'cause of you."
While these two fools were arguing, I heard footsteps behind the door.
"Yo, someone's behind that door!"
And damn, I swear, I saw the doorknob turn and the door open all by itself.
"It's the DEVIL!" I shouted.
(Door opening sound)
"Hey, young ones!"
We were all dumbfounded at that moment.
The new guy didn't waste time talkin': "So, you got the letter, huh? You're lucky. I didn't know you all had some gifts too."
"Who the heck are you?" Souleymane asked.
"I'm your local elf downstairs neighbor, saw you open the letter."
"My mom's life, I'm gonna..." Momo started.
And then this dude went on some crazy sorcery rant, sayin' we were wizards with powers, that we can become knight or some shit, that there are other races (we know that, bro), and that this letter is like a pro school for young folks like us, you get me? But we didn't understand a word he said. We were ready to mess with him till he opened his trap again.
"But I've been to the academy, look."
And then the table, it starts levitatin' in the room all calm and chill.
Man, we were trippin', it was crazy hot, I almost barfed twice 'cause of this madness.
"Alright, young ones, follow me. I'll show you where to get everything you need. Oh, and you'll need some cash, so take some."
So there we were, thinkin' this might be real, that we might be some kinda sorcerers. We dipped with 200 euros each. After 30 minutes of walkin' (spare ya the details), we ended up in some alley in front of a wall.
"Make way, young ones, I'm opening the passage."
This damn hippie hits the wall with some old piece of wood, and the wall calmly opens to this square filled with people with dumbo ears, stilt-legged peeps, and all dressed like bums.
"There you go, guys, good luck, and once you've got everything, meet me at the Airport. Just follow the bums. Peace to ya."
So this dude bounces to God knows where, and we're stuck in this square with losers and bums. There were shops, man, it's like they haven't changed since the revolution, seriously.
We walk fast, everyone starin' at us.
"Yo, they all racists here or somethin'? What's their problem?" Momo says.
"We don't give a damn, bro, let's not linger. They're losers. Let's see what we gotta buy."
And then we see a group of three kids, no older than 13, talkin' among themselves.
"Yeah, I can't wait to be at the academy, gonna see Armandine again."
"Same here, and we can finally learn about the enlargin' potions! Can't wait!"
"Haha, nice one, Hervé!"
...
"Oh, strangers! You goin' to the academy too?" one of the boys says to us.
"Yeah, always nice to make new friends!" his buddy adds.
Me and the homies Momo and Souleymane look at each other, and we know exactly how this is gonna go down.
Five minutes later.
"Yo mamas, you ********, seriously."
"We look like fools in these outfits, man," I remark.
"We don't care, bro, let's not linger. They're losers. Let's see what we gotta buy."