Victory from the choral competition had barely faded when whispers began to rise.
Some boys clapped for Kingstar's solo. Others gave sideways glances.
"He dey do too much now."
"Small solo, he dey feel big."
"Choir boy turned celebrity."
At the center of it was the Prep Prefect the same senior who had clashed with Kingstar more than once.
To him, Kingstar's rising influence was a threat. Quiet. Steady. Dangerous.
One Friday evening, after prep, Kingstar returned to the dorm to find his locker wide open.
Not just open scattered.
Books torn. Choir sheet music soaked in water. His toothpaste squeezed across his Bible.
His heart dropped.
What is this?
The room was too quiet. A few boys stared at him from their beds, pretending not to know.
He cleaned up, silently. That night, he didn't sleep. He lay still, his eyes on the ceiling, questions burning.
The next day, during roll call, the Housemaster called him aside.
"Kingstar... some of your mates are claiming you left prep early. Others say you keep skipping morning devotion. What's going on?"
He was shocked.
"Sir, I I haven't. I always report early..."
But the rumors didn't stop.
And soon, the worst came his name was removed from the list for Sunday's Mass solo.
Mr. Owusu met him after rehearsal.
"It's not about your voice, Kingstar. It's... politics. I'm sorry."
He walked away, defeated.
But that night, an unlikely thing happened.
One of the juniors a Form 1 boy Kingstar had always looked out for came to his bunk.
"Senior, I saw who did it... the locker thing. It was... the Prep Prefect. He paid some of us to act like we didn't know."
Kingstar's chest tightened.
He didn't cry. Didn't shout.
The next morning, he went to Mr. Owusu and quietly reported it not to get revenge, but just to clear his name.
It took a week, but the truth came out. Witnesses spoke. Stories aligned.
The Prep Prefect was summoned by the disciplinary committee and later relieved of his duties.
And Kingstar?
He didn't celebrate. He didn't laugh.
He just picked up his hymnbook, stood in front of the choir, and led warm-up that evening.
Because real strength isn't loud it's knowing who you are, even when others try to destroy it.