The Sunday Mail
Marks Shayamano
I DREADED the 129km journey to Shungu Dzevana Children’s Home in rural Mhondoro.
I knew that the Harare-Chivhu Highway detours would be uncomfortable and take most of our travelling time.
At the same time, I was aware that on our return, the traffic jungle at Mbudzi roundabout would take its toll considering this was a Friday. All team members on this assignment insisted that I come along using all kinds of justifications; the major reason being it would be good for me for what reason, I didn’t know and I didn’t ask.
The highway’s detours were exactly as I had anticipated. Thick clouds of dust engulfed the environment raised by all manner of traffic. Some daredevils were overtaking in spite of the limited visibility, endangering all and sundry.
To make matters worse, I was a passenger, with little control over what the driver was doing except to make suggestions.
Two hours later, we arrived at our destination. As soon as we arrived and disembarked from our car, all the children who had been playing various games stopped and made sure that they positioned themselves at vantage points. We found some chairs before a Sister came through to meet us.
I later found out from the Sister that it was out of discipline that all the children sat down and greeted us before resuming their games.
A group of boys moved over to the pastures and started playing soccer on a field with absolutely nothing to show that it was ideal for such a serious game. Then one of the foster mothers called off the game because she reasoned that it was not safe for the ball.
What struck me most was that the players themselves did not have any football boots or even ordinary tennis shoes to play with yet they were playing on a thorn infested pasture (ground). A few minutes later, the boys had found another playing field, this time the road demarcated by a maize field and fence.
Tackles were flying as if it was a money game. This was one of the many games I have watched with high scoring teams.
One team was leading by 15 to 7 goals.
Any ball that went past the keeper was a goal even if the ball was hit well above my own height. Before I knew it, I was involved as the referee.
“Mdara rapinda here?” they would ask.
What struck me was the children’s determination to hone their skills under such difficult conditions, which probably encapsulates the institution’s name: Shungu Dzevana.
One particular player, who seemed to be the leader, was running rings around the opposition at will and really impressed The Sunday Mail Editor, Victoria Ruzvidzo, who promised him a complete football kit.
I noted that these future football stars can do with goal posts, soccer balls, netballs, tennis shoes, and all those football boots which some kids have outgrown in the city.
Please help by dropping them off at Herald House and help to fulfil the dreams of children at Shungu Dzevana.
