Flamingo - Sport & Adventure - A bag of air that unites people
Text by Cecil Mahlangu Artwork by Norman Begley
The closer we get to the 2010 FIFA World Cup finals in South Africa, the more I experience blindfolded passion for soccer. Sadly though, my heart sinks into my feet each time it crosses my mind that our own Brave Warriors are not part of the band of 32 nations that will battle it out for the world's most prestigious trophy.
This afternoon Don, an American historian, has joined me on the terraces at the Katima Mulilo Sports Complex to witness Caprivian football, which has many ingredients beyond entertainment value.
“Hey Cecil, did you say it's the Black Hawks against the Roccano Rangers?” asks Don.
“Yeah.”
“Wait a minute,” the grey-haired historian pulls out a notebook from his jacket pocket. “Oh, no, no! The Black Hawks represent the Fwe tribe, and Roccano Rangers the Masubia people, not so?”
“You're right. But there's...”
“This is a tribal clash we should have avoided at all costs.” Don flips to the next page. “Fwe and Masubia are very hostile to each other. In 1983 the territorial disputes almost resulted in bloodshed. Had it not been...”
“But Don, this is football. It has nothing to do with...”
“In that same year, 1983, the Masubia people hotly disputed the legality of the Fwe chieftainship. Their chief Moraliswani filed a petition with the High Court in Windhoek to have himself recognised as the paramount chief of all ethnic groups in the region,” recounts Don. “He even requested that Caprivi be renamed Itenge. Remember?”
“Look here Don, the match is...”
“All these years schools had to be closed down because Fwe protested against the appointment of Masubia teachers in their territory,” the historian pauses for effect. “In 1999, the Fwe had to...”
“Hey Don, the match has kicked off!” I shout. He gets back to his seat, closes the notebook and massages his temples, psyching himself up for the game.
On the field, Roccano's John weighs in a defence-splitting pass to Mutabani. Mutabani controls it superbly and uses silky skills to take advantage of Hawks's lapse of concentration to lob an inviting through ball to Nyambe. The lanky striker hits a lawnmower, which eludes the goalkeeper and nestles in the far right post.
“Goal!” Don jumps to lick the sky in jubilation. “That was incredible!”
Don settles back and pulls out his notebook. “On record, the Fwe people are known to be aggressive and that means Black Hawks will not take defeat lightly. I'm sure they'll now resort to robust tackles and have the match abandoned like the 2007 match against...”
“Please, Don! Let's have this discussion later,” - I plead.
The teams continue with their brand of fast and entertaining football coupled with confidence and accurate passes until the referee blows for half time.
Don climbs down to witness the customary pep talk, and interviews the coaches and players from both sides. He returns showing off a new notebook.
“So, what’s in this new book, Mr Historian?” I tease him.
“We'll discuss the contents later,” he smiles slyly.
The Black Hawks begin the second half with a whirlwind. Kwenda's work rate is outstanding as he moves up and down the line, passing the ball around with gusto. He exchanges neat passes with Muwana and the latter curls an in-swinger for Benny, who's lurking by the penalty spot. Benny volleys the dropping ball into the far left corner of the net, leaving the goalkeeper a startled man.
“It's a goal!” Don rises to join the long wild scream of joy bursting from the fans.
Play resumes with both sides playing out of their skins, looking for the decisive goal. With glory an arm’s-length away for either side, the referee blows to end the match. The scoreboard reads one all.
Don rejoins the rival teams as they exchange sweaty but friendly hugs and handshakes.
The historian catches me at the exit gate. He's in a cheerful mood. “The thought of a soccer ball, such a bag of air being kicked around to unite these all-time tribal rivals, has never found space in the back of my mind. It's quite amazing! Roccano has Kufuna, a Fwe midfielder in their team, and there's speculation that some players from Roccano might join Hawks...”
“Sure?”
“True!”
“That would be marvellous for Caprivians! Things would be more lovely for Namibia had the Brave Warriors been part of next year's tournament where this bag of air will be uniting the whole world. What are you doing?”
Don is tearing his old notebook into minute shreds. He digs for his matches to burn the pieces. “Fire is the surest way to destroy hearsay evidence. Now it's time for the Fwe and Masubia to unite and let petty fights dissipate so that everyone can focus on nation building!”
I shake my head without a word. My mind roams back to next year's huge tournament. Since South Africa is within easy reach, I hope the foreign visitors will throng into Namibia in large numbers en route to the stadiums. I'm sure they'll fall in love with our tourist jewel and won’t be disappointed when they opt to come back after the football jamboree.
