“You sit, you pedal, you try not to fall…”

An Extract for
World Bicycle Day

Can you ride a bicycle? Imagine what it would be like to ride a bike for the very first time now – is it fun? Exciting? Perhaps a little scary? 

Thirteen-year-old Samim is a loyal friend, a gifted chess player – and a refugee. After his family is killed in a bombing, Samim makes a long, dangerous journey from Afghanistan to the UK. With his past never forgotten, Samim begins to build a new life in the UK: starting school, making new friends, and learning to ride a bike!

To celebrate World Bicycle Day on 3rd June, enjoy this extract from Fidan Meikle’s stunning debut, My Name is Samim, where Samim rides a bicycle for the very first time.

After dinner, Rita asks me if I’d like to go for a bike ride with her and Ayan. I stare at her and my heart flutters with excitement, but my mouth is silent and dry with nerves.
How do I tell her that I’ve never ridden a bike before?
“So, would you?” she asks again, her eyebrows raised.
“Yes. Yes, thank you. I’d like to go for a bike ride.” I’m telling the truth, but somehow feel like I’m lying.
“Nice! Come on then, we have a spare one in the garage.” She waves me after her, and we run outside. My heart drums in my chest.
“Don’t worry!” Zayn puts his arm over my shoulders. “Remember Hassan from our village? The guy thought the moon was the eye of a giant cyclops who watches over naughty kids at night.”
I chuckle, thinking of Hassan. He was the largest boy in the neighbourhood but seemed to have a brain the size of a button.
“But remember how he raced his bike, doing all those tricks on the back wheel?”
I nod. Hassan was also the only kid in the village who had a bike, and we were all so jealous of him.
“Well, if a button-brain like Hassan can ride a bike, I think you’ll manage, too.”
Zayn makes an excellent point.
Ayan and Rita take three bikes out of the garage. The biggest one is green, and the other two are pink, with white baskets and silver tassels hanging off the handles.
Ayan grabs the green one. “I big, so I drive big.”
Makes sense, I guess.
Rita hops on the other one, and I stand next to mine and watch it nervously.
“You drive bike before?” Ayan asks.
I shake my head and feel very stupid.
“Just hop on it and go! I bet it’s so much fun!” Zayn beams next to me, but I stand frozen, too worried I’ll make a fool of myself.
“Okay.” Rita gets off her bike. “How about we wheel the bikes to the field, and then Ayan and I can teach you how to cycle there? Trust me, it’s not that tricky.”
I nod gratefully, and Rita and I start pushing the bikes across the road to the field striped with trails.
Ayan just rides next to us. “You two push, and I ride. I ride because I don’t want to push.”
Rita rolls her eyes, and we chuckle, steering the bikes over the frosty grassland. Orange sun splatters all over the horizon, like a squashed tangerine.
We stop in the middle of the field, and Rita sighs, watching the sunset. “So pretty!” The icy wind ruffles her hair, freeing a bunch of chocolate-brown curls from her braid.
I look at her and agree – it is.
Ayan stops his bike in front of us, dragging his feet against the grass.
“Ready?” he asks me, clutching the handles.
Rita shakes her head. “We haven’t taught him anything yet!”

“Oh, sorry. It’s okay. I teach you now: you sit, you pedal and you try not fall. Here, now you know. Let’s go!” he says, whizzing ahead of us along the narrow path. “Come, Samim! Pedal!”
I stare at him owl-eyed, my hands shaking.
Rita grins, watching Ayan. “I know Ayan is not the best teacher in the world, but it really is quite simple. Just try to keep your balance.”
I nod, determined to impress her. Taking a deep breath, I swing my leg over the bike and slowly push the pedals.
“Nice! You’re doing it!” Rita cheers after me.
Zayn sits behind me, holding my shoulders. “Go, Samim, go!”
The bike wobbles under me, and my forehead prickles with nervous sweat.
“You hear that, Samim?” Zayn shouts. “This sound is snails falling out of their shells, laughing at us. Push those pedals, Samim! Push them faster!”
I chortle at Zayn, gripping the handles so tightly my knuckles are white.
Ayan cycles in a straight line ahead of me, but I sway from side to side.
“Nice, Samim! You’re doing great!” Rita yells, riding behind me.
“Great?! He drives like a drunk one-eyed monkey!” Ayan shouts, looking back at me.
I chuckle, and the bike swerves to the left, making my heart hop to my throat.
“Oh, come on! Look at him, he’s doing it!” Rita cries, and I draw a deep breath.

I’m doing it. And it feels incredible!
“Go faster!” Zayn yells, his arms spread as if trying to hug the world.
I pedal faster, and the bike speeds ahead.
“Woo!” Zayn shrieks with excitement.
Cycling must be the closest feeling to flying a person can have.
“Go, Samim!” Rita rings her bell behind me.
“Faster, you drunk one-eyed monkey! Go faster!” Zayn yells, and I laugh.
Icy air fills my chest, and my hands and face are freezing, but there’s so much joy inside me that I must be glowing like I swallowed a lightbulb.
“Now you do great!” Ayan hollers as all three of us race towards the last blobs of orange on the horizon.
I’m doing great. And I feel great. Life finally feels great!
My eyes tear up, but for once I don’t worry about it and let the wind dry them instead.
“Woo!”

My Name is Samim by Fidan Meikle

‘An emotional but ultimately hopeful portrayal of a young refugee’s life in the UK; shining a light on the challenges that face so many.’
– Amnesty International UK

My Name is Samim is a story of courage, resilience and friendship that highlights the experiences of young refugees and asylum-seekers. Readers will empathise with Samim as he strives for a safe home and a better future. Fidan Meikle is a stunning new voice in middle-grade fiction. Her wry, heartfelt and immersive writing will draw readers into Samim’s world.