Smart Sindara and the Riding Competition

Smart Sindara and the Riding Competition

Sindara loved challenges. The 12-year-old Nigerian girl, known as "Smart Sindara" among her friends, had a knack for solving puzzles, acing quizzes, and uncovering solutions to the toughest of problems. But this time, the challenge was different. It didn’t involve books or brainpower. It involved a horse—a real one.

It all began when Sindara and her mother traveled from Lagos to Accra, Ghana, for a cousin’s wedding. They stayed with her Aunt Efua, whose house sat on a sprawling estate with a stable full of beautiful horses.

“Sindara, have you ever ridden a horse?” Aunt Efua asked over dinner one evening.

Sindara shook her head. “No, Auntie, I haven’t. I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”

“Well, you’ll have to try. There’s a riding competition this weekend at the Accra Polo Club, and I’ve entered you.”

Sindara almost choked on her fufu. “Me? Entered in a competition? But I don’t even know how to ride!”

Aunt Efua smiled. “There’s a first time for everything, my dear. You’re smart and brave—you’ll figure it out.”

Sindara wasn’t so sure. The idea of getting on a horse, let alone riding one in a competition, made her stomach twist. But her mom’s encouraging look and Aunt Efua’s confident words gave her pause.

The next morning, Sindara met Nutmeg, a gentle brown mare with a white streak down her nose. “She’s calm and listens well,” said Kwame, the stable hand. “Perfect for a beginner.”

Climbing onto Nutmeg’s back for the first time was awkward. Her heart raced as Nutmeg took a few tentative steps. “Relax,” Kwame coached. “Feel her rhythm. She’ll respond to your confidence.”

The first few tries were bumpy, and Sindara nearly slid off once. But by the third day, she was trotting confidently around the paddock. The other competitors, mostly older kids with years of riding experience, watched her with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” asked Yaa, a tall, poised girl who seemed to be the star of the group.

Sindara hesitated but then straightened her back. “I may be new, but I’m ready to try.”

The day of the competition arrived, and Sindara’s nerves returned. The Accra Polo Club buzzed with activity—spectators filled the stands, horses neighed, and the announcer’s voice boomed through the microphone. Sindara’s name was called for her event: an obstacle course where riders guided their horses through cones, over small jumps, and around a figure-eight.

As Sindara mounted Nutmeg, she whispered, “Let’s do our best.”

The whistle blew, and they were off. Nutmeg started slowly, sensing Sindara’s hesitation, but Kwame’s advice echoed in her mind: “Feel her rhythm. She’ll respond to your confidence.”

Together, they wove through the cones and jumped over the hurdles. But as they approached the final obstacle, a sudden commotion erupted in the stands. A young boy had slipped from his seat and fallen onto the edge of the course, startling one of the other horses, which began to rear.

Sindara froze, but Nutmeg stayed calm. Without thinking, Sindara guided Nutmeg toward the boy. “Easy, girl,” she whispered, steering Nutmeg to shield him from the panicked horse

The crowd gasped as Sindara leaned down, reaching out to the boy. “Grab my hand!” she called. He hesitated, wide-eyed, but then grasped her outstretched hand. With a small but determined tug, she pulled him onto the saddle in front of her, just as the other horse was calmed by its rider.

The announcer’s voice broke the stunned silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give a round of applause for Sindara and Nutmeg, showing true bravery and quick thinking!”

Sindara’s heart raced, but she managed a shaky smile. The boy’s parents rushed over, thanking her profusely.

When the competition resumed, Sindara and Nutmeg finished their course. They didn’t win first place, but they were awarded a special medal for courage and leadership.

Afterward, Yaa approached her, no longer aloof but smiling warmly. “You were incredible out there. I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

Sindara realized she had discovered something far more important than winning. She had stepped up in an unexpected moment, proving to herself that bravery wasn’t just about riding a horse—it was about seizing the opportunity to make a difference.

On the flight back to Lagos, Sindara couldn’t help but smile. Life was full of surprises, and she was ready for them all.

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