Nostalgia, ah those days!

Orlando Pirates FC v Kaizer Chiefs at Meadowlands Stadium was abandoned due to supporters disrupting the match. The game had to be replayed in Port Elizabeth. I was eight. Our mother, Sizakele Alice Tshabalala, 51, prepared dumpling and roast chicken. During those days, there were no Ultra Shell filling stations along the freeways connecting different provinces. We travelled in two family cars, a 1965 model Volvo grey in colour, driven by Bhuti Melusi welusa inkomo zaseManyiseni Wesley Tshabalala, and a Chevrolet lmpala 1970 model, silver-grey in colour. The latter was driven by Bhuti MbusowaMaSwati Hamilton Tshabalala. We left Jozi around 06h00 in a convoy with other Pirates players, officials and supporters. Some other officials and supporters were driving American imports the likes of Cadillac, Ford Mustang, Pontiac, Chevrolet Kommando and Valiant (mostly left-hand drives). This was my first long trip with my siblings this gave one an opportunity to bond with them. I dare say, it was an eye-opener venturing into other outlaying provinces and cities. Unbridled was my excitement, that l managed to hop from the Volvo to the lmpala without any hindrance. We listened to music of Brook Benton, tunes such as Lie to Me, Oh Lord, Why Lord, Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On, Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, What’s Going On, Nina Simone’s Young, Gifted and Black. The latter played on full blast! Not least because the song was inspirational and gave us hope that we would be free, we just had to keep on fighting. It was the first time one came to see how politically aware/conscious uNdoda Washington “Gweje obovu” Tshabalala, 18, was. We also listened to the music of Ladysmith Black Mambazo – Nomathemba. Their inaugural show in Jozi was held at Tshabalala's Eyethu Cinema in 1972. Mama Sizakele, Bhuti Mbuso, Sisi Thulisile Cancy “Skhokho” Tshabalala, 18, and uGugu Princess Tshabalala, 11, were in attendance. After the show, they mingled with the members of Black Mambazo and exchanged physical addresses. Remember, during those days, telephone lines were scarce, but we had one at home. We arrived in Port Elizabeth in the wee hours. We slept at a hotel that was reserved for African people since white settlers had five-star hotels at their disposal. Those who couldn’t afford hotels had to squat at the nearest schools. We rushed to the stadium the following morning. The football pitch was a stage and the ball its companion. Pirates produced an unprecedented display of powerful football and they won five titles. Paramountly, this was the first time in the history of African professional football that a team had made such a clean sweep of trophies on offer. Bucs is built on an ethos of continual improvement and growth. Ephraim Jomo Sono scored two brilliant goals. Mr Ewert “The Lip” Nene drove a tractor or caterpillar into the field and the match was abandoned for the second time, but the result stood: Bucs progressed to play against Moroka Swallows, winning 4-2 after coming back from 2-0 down. Travelling to Port Elizabeth gave us an opportunity to look at South Africa in a different way, from a different angle, the freeways, in the hope that that road trip would tell us something intriguing about our sometimes exploited country. l come from a family of travellers. My Dad, uBaba Shadrack Mbhushela Tshabalala, was a happy, carefree cyclist who could ride from Transvaal to Natal, always eager to look at things from a fresh perspective. We passed small towns like Queenstown, Jamestown and Bloemfontein, which today remain idyllic, full of trees with soft shadows and sandstones, garages with old, weathered doors. We left Port Elizabeth late in the afternoon. How I wish my siblings were here! l miss them!