Online Reporter
THE roar of a football crowd first called to Nokuthula Tshabangu. In 1979, the boy from Dema, Gwanda District, trekked daily to Barbourfields Stadium, chasing his dream of becoming a Highlanders winger.
He trained under Ali “Baba” Dube the famous Bosso juniors coach, sharing the pitch with juniors like Madinda Ndlovu and Nhamo Shambira. But raw desire couldn’t match the fierce competition.
“I had been driven by the fact that I was a Highlanders supporter,” he recalls. Reality bit. Football’s door was closing.
Another path quietly opened in Iminyela. Inside a modest hall, leather gloves popped against heavy bags, a different rhythm for ambition. Zenzo Moyo drew Tshabangu in, while brothers Joyful and Mandla Mahlangu inspired him.
“For almost two years, I would at times fool around, spar and hit the bag and sometime in 1981, I would make my debut in the ring,” he says. Coach Mutasa, a Bulawayo City Council security guard and his assistant Machokoto drilled the young hopefuls, turning Iminyela Hall into a nursery of champions.
Tshabangu’s first bout ended in victory over a Mzilikazi Boxing Club rival. Harare soon beckoned for inter-provincial championships. A win and a loss later, celebrated trainer Tom Ferreira swooped, bringing him to North End Club in Bulawayo’s city centre.
“He was a different manager and trainer. He cared about what we ate as boxers unlike others. He discouraged us from eating isitshwala/sadza our staple food, which was not easy,” Tshabangu says with a laugh.
North End sharpened him alongside big names like the late Eddie Ndlovu, Morris Chiwawula and Lameck Zulu. The quick footed Joseph Mangena became his measuring stick, sometimes elusive, sometimes conquered. One standout triumph came in a national selection tournament, he beat Willard Nkomo, then outboxed the stylish Trust “Rose of Iminyela” Ndlovu to secure a place in a Botswana tournament.
“Trust was a clean boxer, who gave as much as he took,” he remembers.
By 1988, after well over a hundred amateur fights, Tshabangu was seasoned enough for the Seoul Olympics, reaching the quarter-finals. Two years later, he scaled higher, winning silver at the Auckland Commonwealth Games.
“I had a very good tournament going all the way to the final to lose to a Northern Ireland boxer. He was very good and fast in his attacks, using his long reach to good effect,” he says. The following year’s All-
Africa Games brought disappointment with a first-fight exit, a reminder of boxing’s swings.
Professional boxing in Bulawayo was sparse until promoter Jeff Dube lit up the scene in the mid-1990s.
“Jeff Dube was the best promoter I worked with. He gave boxing value and treated contracted boxers with dignity,” says Tshabangu.
Under Dube’s Rampage Ring Promotions banner, he claimed the national flyweight title at Maphisa Growth Point in 1997, beating Misheck Kondwane after losing to the skilful, taller Zvenyika “Mosquito” Dzivanya. He fought South Africa’s Simon “The Hawk” Makepula on short notice and later challenged Britain’s Jason Bootes for the Commonwealth title in 1999, again without ideal preparation.
“Imagine travelling to the UK for the Commonwealth without adequate training and having to cut weight at the last minute,” he says. “It meant that I went into the ring weak, having drained myself of energy.”
Those setbacks shaped his advice to today’s fighters, to never accept a bout when not ready. “From experience, I would say when not ready, don’t soil your record and take fights, wait for the right time and make the best out of the opportunity.”
Among his many mentors, Ambrose Mlilo stands tallest. “If he had been by my corner in the Commonwealth fight against Bootes or Makepula, I could have done better. At times a boxer fights to the corner’s telepathic understanding and delivers,” Tshabangu says.
He laments the chronic lack of sponsorship that still strangles Zimbabwean boxing.
Boxing nevertheless gave him a livelihood. He joined the Six Brigade in 1987 and served 20 years before retiring in 2007. He built a family with his wife Ivy (née Matiwaza), raised two sons, Resistance and Karl Max, and is now a grandfather.
He runs a detergents business, grateful for the sport that shaped his life.
Even his name carries a story. “My birth name is Thula. At the registrar’s office they erred and wrote a lady’s name. Since childhood, I have had that problem. Even now, when I produce my identity card, they demand that they see the rightful owner of the card, thinking it’s a lady,” he says, smiling at a lifetime of double takes.
From an abandoned football dream to a silver medal in Auckland, Tshabangu turned setbacks into stepping stones. His journey is more than a boxer’s record. It is the tale of a boy who listened to a different kind of roar and found a ring big enough for his spirit.
