Short Story 45: I Am a Sports Identity Wristband

Short Story 45: I Am a Sports Identity Wristband

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My name is Wristband. I’m a red plastic band, soft and lightweight. Printed on me are the words: “Zaki – Red House – 204.” I was born in a sports accessory printing factory, then sent to a boarding school for their Annual Sports Day.


On my first day, Zaki wore me proudly around his wrist. He was a Form Two student—active and full of spirit. I became a symbol of his sportsmanship and team identity. Every time he ran, jumped, or cheered, I vibrated with the rhythm of his heartbeat.


But Zaki wasn’t just any student. He had once injured his leg in a minor accident back in his village. Many doubted his ability to compete in athletics. Yet, he never gave up. I witnessed his quiet training on the field every evening, even when his knees trembled in pain.


Then came Sports Day. Zaki joined the 200-meter race. I felt his sweat soaking into me. When the whistle blew, he ran with all his might. Midway through the race, he fell. The crowd went silent. But Zaki got up and kept running until he crossed the finish line. He didn’t win, but he received the loudest cheer.


After the race, Zaki sat by the field, looking at me.


“This wristband… it’s my symbol of strength,” he whispered.


He didn’t take me off, even after the event ended. I stayed on his wrist for weeks, even as my colour faded and the writing wore off. I wasn’t just a wristband. I was a symbol of courage, resilience, and determination.


Now, I rest in a small box alongside his participation medal and a photo from Sports Day. Sometimes, Zaki opens the box and smiles. I know, even though I’m just a strip of plastic, I was once part of a powerful moment in his life.


And I’ll remain there, a memory of a student who dared to run when the world doubted his steps.

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By: Siti Isah Ithnin





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