The Sunday Mail
Garikai Mazara in Kariba
ZPC Kariba…………………………. (1)1
Bulawayo City………………………(0)0
The above is a scoreline that any serious football fan should be aware of by now, for the first round of the Chibuku Super Cup games were played last weekend, with ZPC progressing through the solitary strike by Tawanda Nyamandwe in the 28th minute. The game, one of eight similar knock-out ties around the country, was played before an almost empty Nyamhunga Stadium.
The number of spectators in the stadium could have been matched by the number of players on the pitch (to include, of course, the two technical benches). That is putting it across sarcastically, though.
As a first-time visitor to the “live” stadium, my previous visit was when it was undergoing final touches as it was readying for Premier League matches and thus empty, something easily caught my eye.
I could not help but notice that the “crowd” outside the stadium was possibly bigger than the one inside it, watching the same match!
Then I remembered, I have heard similar stories about Dulibadzimu Stadium in Beitbridge, that it is generally regarded as being foolish with one’s money by Beitbridge residents, to buy a ticket to watch a soccer match, as one can easily watch that match whilst standing outside.
For this reason, musicians don’t even bother having shows at the stadium.
Back to the 28th minute winner, many of the fans who witnessed the score could not celebrate. And it was not out of their volition, but because their immediate environment did not allow them to. The most they could do was ululate or blow the vuvuzela, but not jump or dance to the score.
Because they were perched in a tree.
At Nyamhunga, just behind the VIP section is a tree, which ZPC fans have infamously turned into their own version of Rufaro’s Vietnam Stand or Barbourfields’ Soweto Stand.
There is a slight difference, though.
For in-between the tree and the stadium runs the main road that leads to the bus rank, and if there is little action on the field of play, and anything in motion along the main road competes for attention, the crowd up the tree can get a little bit distracted.
Which happened more often, on this particular Saturday afternoon.
It was, by Kariba’s standards, ordinarily hot but for a visitor excessively so, and a woman passed by the tree, along the main road leading to the bus rank.
She was not visible to us who were in the stadium, but going by the comments that were being shouted at her, she must have been scantily dressed.
That had to be enough distraction.
And one wouldn’t really blame the soccer fans for getting such constant distractions from the main road, after all the action on the field of play was something else – there wasn’t much to attract them.
And never mind that it was a hot day, the fans would scream, yell and shout instructions to players on the field, perched right on top of their tree.
Never mind, also, that they were shouting a good 50 metres away. Which left one wondering, how do they refresh their voice boxes during the match? Or what happens to them when they want to relieve themselves?
And in typical fashion of soccer fans anywhere and elsewhere, some of them had the cheekiness of wearing helmets, giving an impression that their “stand” was a hard-hat area. Probably that is what makes it the beautiful game.
But the “tree crowd” was not the only section to enjoy the free match.
At Rufaro Stadium, there is the “Mbare End”, or the “Soweto End” at Barbourfields, and for Nyamhunga there is the “Bus Rank End”. The major difference being that this “end” at Nyamhunga has a number of houses, a good guess would put the figure at anything up to 20. It should be by mutual consent, or that they should be dwellers at the said houses, but as the game kicked off, it was easy to notice people climbing on top of the roofs, or trees on the house yards, trees that would be tall enough to give the spectators a vantage point of the game. A complete free view of the whole stadium.
But there has to be a downside.
Besides not being able to dance or jump to celebrate any score, the fans have to stand throughout the whole match. Or sit on a red hot roof.
And just like their counterparts within the stadium, at half-time, that is for the 15-minute break, they climbed down, presumably to discuss tactics, formations and substitutions. Or to have some water. Or to relieve themselves.
The same formation on the “Bus Rank End” replicates itself on the eastern side of the stadium, where houses line the length of the stadium.
The roof of each and every one of the houses on the eastern side serves as a vantage point for the soccer-loving, cash-strapped fans.
But could be the cash shortage that forces the fans onto the roof tops? Or are they just cheeky? Just as quickly and effortlessly as they climbed up the tree and roof tops at the beginning of the match, as soon as the referee blew to end the match, the fans climbed down in no time and within an instant, were mere pedestrians in the Nyamhunga streets.
