The Sunday Mail
Garikai Mazara
How time flies! It was in February that we went to Redcliff and Torwood to do a series of stories that touched on how the infrastructure, both sporting and industrial, had gone down in the Midlands town of Kwekwe.
Whereas I was looking at the industrial death of Ziscosteel, Ishemunyoro Chingwere was handling the demise of sport in Kwekwe, particularly the two aforementioned settlements which at the height of the country’s sporting success provided a number of luminaries.
Believe Nyakudjara completed our travelling team, as he did our photography.
Though I was born and partly raised in Torwood – and naturally knew where to go – that I had left Kwekwe around 1984 meant we needed some hand-holding, some assistance and some guidance. A tour guide, if you please.
Prior to our departure from Harare, Ishe had made contact with Paul Gundani who had shown interest in showing us around, in any case sport was a passion close to his heart.
I had known the name Paul Gundani from the days of the Dream Team and since I did not cover football or sport, I had never had the chance to meet him in person. That February 22, a Sunday, meeting at the Zisco Golf Club was to be my first meeting with him.
Truth is, there is a general misconception about soccer players, especially local soccer players – that they are not very intelligent, not well conversant, not eloquent, and to an extent not worldly. Pardon me, but this is a societal prejudice, not just my own making. Soccer players, just like musicians, rather artistes in general, suffer from that stigma – ndezvemarombe, kind of thing. It is a societal construct.
So you will excuse me, dear reader, that when I was expecting to meet Paul Gundani, I had in mind that kind of personality. But I was astounded, Paul’s intellect was well above the societal construct of a soccer player, he knew his onions quite well.
ICONS . . . Paul Gundani (left) and former athlete Partson Muderedzi discuss sporting issues at Muderedzi’s home in Redcliff, Kwekwe, in February
In the afternoon that we spent with him, taking us from one collapsed sport infrastructure to the other, what came out was his commitment to the plight and welfare of sporting personalities. This discussion was heightened when he took us to the house of Partson Muderedzi (how many do remember him?), who shared almost the same passion and has clarity of mind when it comes to what needs to be done when it comes to sport administration.
Fast forward eight months later, Paul was on the phone. He needed some help, a small favour he called it.
There were preparations that were going on for the 50th anniversary of Drake Secondary School, where he had schooled, and he was wondering if he could pass my number to the organising committee as they wanted some publicity as a build-up towards the event.
As he was winding up his conversation, I asked him if he was going to stand in the upcoming ZIFA elections, that Cuthbert Dube had been kicked out. “No, Gari, I am not. I still have unfinished business with our Footballers Union of Zimbabwe and I am still with them.”
My probing him on his intention to stand for ZIFA president had been premised on the persuasiveness, his demeanour, clarity of mind and wisdom when it came to issues to do with sports administration. Particularly, he stressed the need for athletes to settle their long-term future before indulging in anything else.
And he was very forthright: “I bought my house in Fitchlea (a suburb in Kwekwe) some years back and this is something that I always tell the youngsters to do, that before they enjoy their money, they should secure their future. I am now retired, both from active sports as well from my day-time job but I can afford to look after my family because what I need is just daily subsistence. Imagine the situation if I was renting?”
Those who were old enough to have watched the Dream Team of Reinhard Fabisch will testify of Paul Gundani’s commitment to the national cause, his composure and his straight-forwardness, which could easily be gleaned even from the small screen.
But it was the wealth of experience and compassion for sport that he showed that Sunday afternoon in February, as he moaned the death of Ziscosteel, the home of steel-makers, which gave birth to many sporting icons in the country in the ‘80s and early ‘90s, that was touching and infectious.
Though anything can happen to anyone’s health in nine months, but when we interacted with Paul that Sunday he never showed any ill-health nor any weaknesses to suggest nine months later he would be joining other stars in Heaven.
His build was strong, like he was still in the prime of his athletic days, his voice strong, persuasive and commanding, like he was back in those days with the national team.
His death should be a reminder to all of us, that we are mere mortals, than when the time comes, God will, as he wishes, pluck the most beautiful of flowers from among us.
Go well and rest in peace, Paul.
