It was afternoon, and the day's reading session had ended at ACK Mwatunge.

The children were, however, waiting for the day's last event. Teacher Grace had said there would be a tug-of-war.

"Alright, children! Time for the tug of war!"

Teacher Grace brought a thick sisal rope with a red cloth tied at the centre. She laid it out and picked two leaders for each team.

Mwambingu was on one side. He was a sturdy boy in grade four known for carrying two buckets of water from the river.

On the other side was Wakesho. She was a short, clever girl in grade three, with big eyes sparkling with determination.

They stood face to face with the rope in their hands, and Mwambingu grinned widely. "I will defeat you, Wakesho," he said proudly.

They then picked their teammates to ensure each side had the same number of children.

Mwambingu's team was a picture of strength.

Wakesho's team was mostly girls. They looked like sparrows fighting against eagles.

Teacher Grace positioned them. The red cloth was over a line she had drawn on the ground.

"Pull with all your strength. The first team to get pulled across the line, loses."

"Moja! Mbili! Tatu! VUTA! One! Two! Three! PULL!"

The rope was tight from the force, they were sliding and their heels carved trenches into the soil.

Mwambingu's team was gaining ground and it was almost a sure win.

But Wakesho shouted! "Let's pull in a rhythm, not individually!"

In synchronised motions, Wakesho's team leaned back while tugging in a rhythm.

The rope stopped moving!

"Strength is not just in the arms, it is in the rhythm," Wakesho said wisely.

The next pull made one boy lose his balance and fall.

With one member down, Mwambingu's team became confused. Their pulling was chaotic, individual efforts.

They were no match for the rhythm and concentration of Wakesho and her team.

The children watching gasped, and some cheered loudly.

With one final tug, Mwambingu's team crossed the line, and they bit the dust.

Mwambingu got up, dusting his face and clothes.

With a big grin on his face, he turned to Wakesho and said, "That rhythm thing was clever. Congratulations!"

Teacher Grace brought juice and biscuits for everyone. The children sat under the tree sharing.

The lesson for the day was that strength does not come from being the biggest or strongest. It comes from being united and from working together.