Online Reporter
Veronica Gwaze
Zimpapers Sports Hub
WHEN Prince Ncube was named 24 years ago, it was never meant as prophecy.
It was just a name, chosen quietly, without ceremony.
Years later, in a packed arena in Lilongwe, that name finally caught up with him.
They call him Mahuku now, a term spoken with warmth and respect by netball followers across Africa.
It fits.
From the stands, from the bench and from the court, his rise has carried the ease and inevitability of someone who belongs where he has landed, even if he never planned to be there.
Ncube walked away from the Netball African Championships as the men’s Player of the Tournament, the standout figure in a Golden Flyers side that finished with silver.
South Africa took gold and Eswatini settled for bronze.
In the women’s competition, South Africa again emerged victorious, Uganda were second and Zimbabwe’s Gems finished third.
The medals and titles mattered.
The moment mattered more.
Walking off the podium, the applause still ringing, Ncube spoke with the calm honesty of someone still slightly surprised by his own journey.
“I became a netballer by coincidence and never thought I would come this far,” he said.
That coincidence began far from the bright lights, back in Zvishavane, where a teenage boy’s first love was handball.
In 2015, at Zvishavane High School, Ncube spent his afternoons honing a different rhythm and a different set of instincts.
He was quick, coordinated and confident with the ball.
Those traits did not go unnoticed.
Mr Hove, the school’s netball coach at the time, watched from a distance.
He liked what he saw. The handling. The movement. The awareness.
Eventually, he made an approach that would change everything.
Ncube was invited not to play, but to help assist with training, especially ball handling skills.
That invitation became a small nudge that opened a door he had never thought to push.
“I barely knew anything about netball, nor did I have any interests in the game, so when Mr Hove approached me, at first I wanted to decline,” he said.
“But then part of me just thought I should take a chance, learn the game and see how it goes.”
Netball, with its strict footwork, positional discipline and emphasis on timing, was a world away from the freedom of handball.
No dribbling. No contact. No improvising your way out of trouble.
Every movement had to be deliberate and every pass had to count.
He started at the bottom — Learning the rules, understanding spacing and figuring out how to move without the ball.
Slowly, something shifted.
“As I began to understand the game better, my love for it started to develop and every day I would look forward to training,” he said.
“Despite netball being a predominantly women’s sport, I was lucky not to come across any backlash in terms of acceptance by the community.
“I had the liberty to put on training gear and play with the girls as we exchanged notes on the game, and everything just went on well.”
That openness mattered.
It allowed him to grow without self-consciousness and to learn without barriers.
From there, he immersed himself further, following the Zvishavane Mberengwa Community Netball League, watching closely, listening, absorbing.
Opportunity came again, this time in the form of responsibility.
Ncube was offered a coaching role with Loss Control Queens, a team made up of security guards from Mimosa Mine.
It was another unexpected turn; another lesson learned in real-time.
By 2016, his name had started doing the rounds in community netball circles around Zvishavane.
He coached multiple teams.
He observed, adjusted and improved.
That same year, Platinum Queens were formed, and Ncube found himself inside a more demanding environment.
“Under the Platinum Holdings-funded side, this is where my skills were sharpened as I worked and played under experienced coaches,” he recalls.
“At Platinum, we could watch, play and discuss with players who were playing in the country’s topflight league; hence I learned more.
“Manager Patience Duri, coaches Sithembile Banda and Simbarashe Mlambo noted the talent and potential and gave me the platform to learn under them.”
He even tried umpiring, officiating matches in the Rainbow Netball Central Region League.
He was good at it, too.
He was also respected, popular and trusted with big games.
Still, the whistle never pulled at him the way the bench and the court did.
Coaching remained his anchor.
In 2019, another leap; this time to Harare.
At 18, Ncube took up his first topflight role as assistant coach at ZDF Queens, working under Joel Sibanda.
It was a bigger stage, sharper scrutiny and higher expectations, but he never flinched.
“I was just 18 at the time and that was my first coaching gig in the topflight, and it was a big stage compared to what I had been accustomed to,” he said.
“However, it was not difficult for me to adjust and fit in because Platinum Queens had already laid the solid foundation in my career.”
Today, his life in netball is layered.
With the Zimbabwe Netball Association now running a men’s league, Mahuku turns out as a player for Harare Giants, one of 10 active teams.
He also coaches P Stars, a women’s side competing in the Premier Netball League.
Those dual roles shape his understanding of the game and sharpen his instincts.
They fed directly into his performances in Lilongwe, where he also claimed two Player of the Match awards on the road to silver.
“I believe that being a coach and player has helped me to understand the game from both ends,” he said.
“As a coach, you learn to read the game, collect notes and know what to do for your side to take advantage of the opponent’s weakness.
“As a player, you should know how to grasp instruction so when you have the two, you will be unstoppable.”
For someone who took up netball by accident, Mahuku now carries himself like a man who has found his rightful place.
The boy from Zvishavane did not set out to become a prince.
He simply said yes, once, then again, and kept going.
