After weeks of sickening events about anamapopa (blood suckers), it was refreshing last week to see the focus switch to the famous Blantyre Derby which features domestic football powerhouses-Be Forward Wanderers and Nyasa Big Bullets.
It felt so good to be in capital city at the weekend to get the feel of the Bingu National Stadium (BNS) for the first time to witness what promised to be an epic confrontation between the two giants.
The atmosphere, as expected, was captivating—the sights and sounds from the terraces, the rhythm of the drumbeat and the hype in the streets—scenes so beautiful angels would have saluted in their flight.
Sadly though, the actual action failed to live to its billing.
Except for rare interludes of beautiful movement and passing by the Nomads, what was served up here was a big yawn not befitting such a big clash.
Probably had I stayed put in Blantyre, watching a four-aside match involving kids from my neighbourhood as young as five years-old, would have provided far much better entertainment than the crap that was on offer here.
Oh yes, probably listening to comical stories about anamapopa from my house-help Lobeni, would have been better than a trip to L-City for this drab contest which failed to stir the passions.
Stealing glances at my neighbour’s maid, Patuma, when she sways her hips this and that way as she windows, would have provided more satisfaction than what was on offer at BNS. Ndabetsa!
In the good ‘ole days, the Blantyre derby was a contest for talented artists whose magical skills used to create lasting memories. Then, fans would be assured of an appetising dish, end-to-end stuff, cheeky body swerves and boy, those classic goals. Sadly, not anymore and all that is left, are just memories.. Uloliwe, uloliwe wayidudula, neng’siza hah! (Oh yes, the train is pushing). Glory be to God. n
