Sweet, nostalgic memories die hard. Old as they may be, they are often a precious souvenir for ages. The memories of the village setting, with its relaxed, serene and refreshing atmosphere signify a world of their own.
One of the most popular past times for the young men in the village was playing football. While the girls went to the river to draw water, the boys invited their counterparts from a neighbouring village for a soccer match in a swiftly marked crooked terrain.
The most exciting of matches would come into play in the face of two rival camps. Each camp would boast of its skilled commanders, who in the name of chance or good fortune, stood out as the best ball dribblers and top scorers. They lacked a contemporary as far as taking control of their teams from the start of the game up to the end until they either won or lost a match. Losing in a match was intolerable. If this happened, the commander would change the line-up as soon as possible.
The commanders had the prerogative of carrying the balls neatly knit from nylon papers. The balls were often referred to as lifundo in western province. The commanders also had the privilege of choosing the first eleven players for their sides. Their decisions were rarely disputed.
They were better players, save goal-keeping. They feared being scored since that would portray their Achilles heel. Nevertheless, as the game would progress, they would swap positions until the game would come to an end. In the process, they would point out the weaknesses of the holders of different positions but show how they could play better in such positions.
When they caused a penalty either accidentally or at will, they would dispute it strongly in order to have it cancelled.
“Haramu hailipi,” the opponents would shout.
Many a time, when the penalty would be declared valid, the field commander would take the risk of substituting his goal keeper for the moment. Fortunately in case they could save the penalty, they would boast of their incomparable proficiency in not only goal keeping but also defending, middle-playing, striking, lines-manning, refereeing, marking the field and coaching.
Lumonya was one such commander. Though, tiny as he appeared, he had the stamina that would shake even the hugest of defenders both in his own team and in the rival team. For his Ronaldinho skills on the field, his fame surpassed the whole village. He would literally dribble the ball from morning to noon, without erring. He would play any game at any time, anywhere without tiring, until the cows would come home. It required a commander of similar pedigree from a far away village to give him a run for more skill.
Lumonya had a football squad of his own. The members of the squad ranged from the very mature and tough muscled youths to the skinny ones still in their elementary classes. He coached them separately, ushered them in the field to play and monitored their progress. Every game would present a good opportunity for Lumonya to choose fine players to face their perennial hardcore rivals from the next village. Whoever displayed a good albeit rough game would often be absorbed in the line-up.
The top scorers enjoyed some privileges too. They were automatically assured to play in successive games, until they could get injured or fall sick. Moreover, they would be involved in making some key decisions, like which rival teams to play against.
Whenever Lumonya would feign sickness, there would be no game on that occasion. Most members of his squad would simply call on him to wish him a get well tribute. A game would only take place if they managed to convince him to accompany them to the field. They would do all they could to convince Lumonya watch them play. His mere presence morale boosted them a great deal.
For his all round soccer proficiency, Lumonya was a darling of the girls as well. Most of them admired him clandestinely. They wished he would give them a look of admiration whenever they flirted in his presence.
Till now, Lumonya, who had hoped to play for AFC Leopards, Gor Mahia FC or Tusker FC, has not since attained his dream. He is now old enough with a family to take care of. But, the memories of his heydays as a soccer hero still linger in his mind with nostalgia.
Joshua Masinde.
The most exciting of matches would come into play in the face of two rival camps. Each camp would boast of its skilled commanders, who in the name of chance or good fortune, stood out as the best ball dribblers and top scorers. They lacked a contemporary as far as taking control of their teams from the start of the game up to the end until they either won or lost a match. Losing in a match was intolerable. If this happened, the commander would change the line-up as soon as possible.
The commanders had the prerogative of carrying the balls neatly knit from nylon papers. The balls were often referred to as lifundo in western province. The commanders also had the privilege of choosing the first eleven players for their sides. Their decisions were rarely disputed.
They were better players, save goal-keeping. They feared being scored since that would portray their Achilles heel. Nevertheless, as the game would progress, they would swap positions until the game would come to an end. In the process, they would point out the weaknesses of the holders of different positions but show how they could play better in such positions.
When they caused a penalty either accidentally or at will, they would dispute it strongly in order to have it cancelled.
“Haramu hailipi,” the opponents would shout.
Many a time, when the penalty would be declared valid, the field commander would take the risk of substituting his goal keeper for the moment. Fortunately in case they could save the penalty, they would boast of their incomparable proficiency in not only goal keeping but also defending, middle-playing, striking, lines-manning, refereeing, marking the field and coaching.
Lumonya was one such commander. Though, tiny as he appeared, he had the stamina that would shake even the hugest of defenders both in his own team and in the rival team. For his Ronaldinho skills on the field, his fame surpassed the whole village. He would literally dribble the ball from morning to noon, without erring. He would play any game at any time, anywhere without tiring, until the cows would come home. It required a commander of similar pedigree from a far away village to give him a run for more skill.
Lumonya had a football squad of his own. The members of the squad ranged from the very mature and tough muscled youths to the skinny ones still in their elementary classes. He coached them separately, ushered them in the field to play and monitored their progress. Every game would present a good opportunity for Lumonya to choose fine players to face their perennial hardcore rivals from the next village. Whoever displayed a good albeit rough game would often be absorbed in the line-up.
The top scorers enjoyed some privileges too. They were automatically assured to play in successive games, until they could get injured or fall sick. Moreover, they would be involved in making some key decisions, like which rival teams to play against.
Whenever Lumonya would feign sickness, there would be no game on that occasion. Most members of his squad would simply call on him to wish him a get well tribute. A game would only take place if they managed to convince him to accompany them to the field. They would do all they could to convince Lumonya watch them play. His mere presence morale boosted them a great deal.
For his all round soccer proficiency, Lumonya was a darling of the girls as well. Most of them admired him clandestinely. They wished he would give them a look of admiration whenever they flirted in his presence.
Till now, Lumonya, who had hoped to play for AFC Leopards, Gor Mahia FC or Tusker FC, has not since attained his dream. He is now old enough with a family to take care of. But, the memories of his heydays as a soccer hero still linger in his mind with nostalgia.
Joshua Masinde.
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2 comments:
Man yo blog is very interesting.gudday msee
justus.
Thanks, man. Keep up the reading culture.
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