Online Reporter
Veronica Gwaze
Zimpapers Sports Hub
BATTLE lines are drawn, not with fists or fury, but with colour and memory as Harare braces for another CAPS United-Dynamos showdown at Rufaro this afternoon.
The City End will bloom green, the Vietnam stand will surge blue, and the air is already heavy with chants, vuvuzelas and the smell of roasted maize.
Vendors have stocked up for the occasion. Among them is a man whose story runs deeper than the day’s scoreline.
For more than two decades, Terrence Gurajena has been a fixture at Harare’s biggest football games, his Dairibord ice cream cart as familiar as the goal nets and the singing stands.
This afternoon he works his final shift. He is retiring from Dairibord on Tuesday. And he is going out with a flourish, handing out free ice cream to thank the thousands who turned his trade into a calling.
“This is the end of my journey as an ice cream vendor,” Gurajena said, his voice steady, but eyes betraying the weight of the moment.
“I have survived on this job for 20 years. From now onwards, I will be an ordinary football fan. Today I am thanking the people I regarded as my customers for so long.”
His journey began in 1998 when he left the farming village of Magunje for Harare.
A job with Dairibord Zimbabwe waited, but during the 145-kilometre bus ride to the capital he barely thought of wages or shifts.
His mind was on CAPS United, the team he had followed on a battered Panasonic radio back home.
“I never imagined I would one day watch the team live or even meet the players,” he recalled.
“So, I decided to work from the stadiums. That way I could earn a living and see every match.”
That decision set the course for the next 27 years. Gurajena became the smiling constant at Premier Soccer League matches, his cart a cooling oasis on blistering afternoons.
Week after week, he wheeled his cart to Rufaro, the National Sports Stadium, Gwanzura and even Sakubva when he could.
He has barely missed a home game, serving treats to generations of supporters while watching his beloved Makepekepe rise and stumble through football’s cycles.
Some seasons fed the soul. He remembers the joyous 2004 championship run when CAPS stormed the league under Charles Mhlauri.
He recalls the CAF Champions League adventure that followed, when he sold out every cooler box before halftime.
“Those were the years when the stands were full and everyone wanted ice cream even in the cold,” he said with a laugh.
Other times tested him.
“Whenever CAPS are not performing well, I am affected,” he admitted. “After bringing in new players when the year started, I was reminded of the times when we had Farai Mbidzo, Basil Chisopo, Alois Bunjira and Morgan Nkathazo. Those guys played a phenomenal game and I always looked forward to matchday.”
This season has been one of the hardest.
CAPS United, loaded with promising signings — Kundai Benyu, Kelvin Mangiza, Brighton Manhire, Tanaka Shandirwa, Harmony Nare and later Chinga Chitoshi, Adam Tende, Mutshimba Mugalu and Ishmael Wadi — have been inconsistent.
Under new coach Ian Bakala, they sit 13th on the log, level on 32 points with Triangle and Bikita. The team that once terrified rivals now fights to stay afloat. Still, Gurajena shows up.
“I have been there through the team’s highs and lows in the past 26 years. It has been adventurous,” he said.
Ask for his best memory and his eyes brighten. He travels back to 1996, long before he wore a vendor’s apron, when CAPS were minutes from defeat against Dynamos yet needed a draw to clinch the league title.
“We were already making our way out due to frustration,” he said. “Then I heard celebrations; Mpumelelo Dzowa had equalised with a free-kick. We went to party because we needed a point to win the championship.”
His hardest moments were quieter, but cut deep. The Covid-19 pandemic lockdown starved him of customers and the stadium crisis that followed forced Harare clubs to play outside the city.
“It was a tough time. I struggled financially and emotionally. I had to learn how to sell on the streets, but I was no longer making much,” he said.
Gurajena’s heroes remain vivid.
He lights up at the mention of names of Morgan Nkathazo and Oscar Machapa, men who ruled the derby in their day.
“They had that fight you never forget,” he said.
He has ideas about what CAPS United must do to reclaim their pull.
“Players would graduate from the juniors into the senior team and that DNA gave them a rare drive and strong bond with the fans,” he said.
“They played with pure passion and it was easy to love and support them.”
He believes reviving the junior policy and curtain raiser games will bring back the green-blooded supporters who once packed Rufaro every weekend. Today’s derby brings it all full circle. The City End will throb with green, the Vietnam Stand with blue. Vendors are ready for the rush, but Gurajena will be giving away scoops for free, a final gesture of gratitude to the supporters who built his livelihood and gave his life rhythm.
When the last whistle sounds, he will pack his cart and walk out of Rufaro not as a vendor but as a pure fan.
“Now I just want maximum points for the Green Machine as I say goodbye to my Dairibord cart,” he said.
The man who has sweetened Harare football for a generation leaves with the same quiet purpose that brought him here, to be close to the team he loves. As the stadium empties and night settles over Mbare, Gurajena will taste a rare freedom, no rush to beat traffic, no need to count the day’s takings, only the roar of memories and the knowledge that for nearly three decades he helped make matchday sweeter, one cone at a time.
