A few hours before my beloved Flames faced Chad in a 2013 Africa Cup of Nations qualifier on Saturday, I recalled the events that led Malawiâ€™s failure to qualify for the 2012 Africa Cup of Nations.
I thought about the time when the sexy motorcycle taxi lady called Olisa took me to the stadium as I held on firmly to her waistâ€”so tightâ€”as I fondly touched her beads (mikanda).
I recalled that there were just seconds left before the referee could blow the final whistle marking the Flamesâ€™ back-to-back qualification to the continental showcase, but sadly, it was not to be.
The hosts equalised in the last minute of added time and suddenly the dream was up in smoke. I could not even gather the energy to fulfil the promise I made for a night out with Olisa.
So, no-one could blame me if I felt like flying when my emotions betrayed me last Saturday after the Flames victory as they qualified for the second round, and before I knew it, I had hoisted my frame into the air, punching imaginary objects with both arms in full flow, as I joined the bandwagon celebrating a special moment.
I abandoned all caution and joined the delirious group saluting that super moment when success swings its doors wide open and welcomes your team, and your heart, on board its glory train.
I became a willing player in the drama, a big character in the play, a big part of the madness, a big part of that date with destiny when all that matters is a celebration of greatness as we danced and hugged each other.
Of course, it is not over yet as the Flames have one more hurdle to clear, but all the same, for a national game that was badly in need of hopeâ€”reeling from a string of drawsâ€”the win on Saturday was refreshing. As the boys turned on the magic, I could see the First Gentleman, retired chief justice Richard Banda, moving in his seat. He surely must have been reminded of his good â€˜ole days in the â€˜swinging 60sâ€™, when he starred for the Flames and were paid a banana each for a win.
So painful was the loss for the visiting Chad. No wonder they poured out their frustration by drinking expensive Vodka and JB at a posh hotel down town Blantyre and were briefly detained for failing to settle the bills. It was a case of taziwoneranji; otherwise, the stuff that suits them is Rum sachets, also known as â€˜abale samalani!â€™Â Â
If they were sociable enough, minibus touts would have been of better help on where they would get the hard stuff. Otherwise, tough luck to them! And good morning Nâ€™djamena!