Online Reporter
MANJESO with Mai Juju
THERE is a time to lead, a time to delegate and a time to sit in the executive box with a glass of something cold, nodding wisely while lesser mortals do the dirty work.
Unfortunately for Mr Kudzanai Hove, the now-suspended CEO of Hardrock, no one gave him that memo.
Instead, our gallant C-suite warrior chose to descend from the ivory tower and into the trenches of the Chahwanda pitch to involve himself in crowd trouble like a man who forgot he has a job title longer than his common sense.
Let Mai Juju pause for effect.
A whole chief executive officer suspended for getting into the middle of a violent situation.
If you are laughing, stop.
This actually happened.
And now the man has been summoned by the police and suspended by his own club, proving once and for all that the shortest distance between the boardroom and the holding cell is a moment of poor judgement.
The horror we witnessed
Let us rewind to the scene that shall haunt us for years to come.
There, on the pitch at Chahwanda, amid flying fists and confused marshals who looked like they had been recruited minutes earlier, emerged a burly man.
Zimbabweans watched in collective horror — some from the stands, others through shaky phone videos — as this gentleman, who is supposed to be in charge of strategy, stakeholder relations and quarterly reports, instead took over the duties of poorly paid football marshals.
He was in the thick of it — chest out, hands waving and face contorted like a pepped-up UFC fighter.
We watched, mouths open, as a man who probably has a company car, a secretary and a sign on his door reading “chief executive officer” decided that his core competency for the afternoon was pitch-side riot control.
Mai Juju has never — never — seen a CEO physically insert himself into a football brawl.
But seriously, there is something that needs to be done to make our football matches civil, decent family affairs, where fathers bring their sons to enjoy a carnival, and not learn new obscene songs that even make the devil blush.
We do not need football matches where mothers refuse to bring their daughters because the man next to them might decide the toilet is too far.
Public urination has become a halftime ritual as predictable as the league standings.
We now sing songs about rival players’ mothers and shower the referee with insults that question his ancestry.
We also now treat away fans like invading armies.
And now, apparently, our CEOs are joining the pitch-side militia.
Bring back the carnival
Here is what we need: civility, decorum and a return to sanity.
Football matches in Zimbabwe should feel like a carnival, not a battlefield.
There should be families. Children with painted faces.
Vendors selling snacks without fear of a stampede. Music. Laughter.
The kind of atmosphere where the biggest controversy is whether the hotdog was overpriced, not whether the CEO will be arraigned before the court on Monday.
We need marshals who actually marshal. Security that secures. And executives who execute — from the boardroom, not from the centre circle.
As for Mr Hove, let this be a lesson to all C-suite dreamers: If you see a fight at a football match, do not — I repeat — do not become the story.
Because nothing says leadership failure quite like a suspended CEO explaining to the police that he was just trying to restore order.
Order, Sir, is what you pay other people to restore.
Ndikoko!
