Veronica Gwaze
Zimpapers Sports Hub
THE bright Saturday morning sun beats down on Mbare. Cars crawl in a slow line towards Rufaro Stadium. Harare is wide awake, gripped by derby fever.
Touts yell and jostle as commuter omnibuses drop off and pick up passengers along Remembrance Drive.
Roadside vendors thrive in the organised chaos, selling everything from fruits to football merchandise.
In the stadium parking lot, spaces disappear fast as vehicles enter in large numbers.
Young boys, some barely five years old, dart between the cars, whistling and signalling drivers into parking bays.
They are self-appointed parking marshals who offer to “guard” the vehicles during the match in exchange for a small payment.
To most motorists, they are a nuisance. To the boys, it is a hustle that brings in money for snacks and airtime.
For 16-year-old Tafadzwa Gombera, it is about survival and keeping his dreams alive.
Unlike some of the loud and mischievous boys who have mastered the art of forcing drivers to dig into their pockets, Gombera never demands payment.
He is quiet and reserved. Strike up a conversation with him and a painful story begins to unfold.
Every cent Gombera makes from the stadium hustle goes towards his examination fees and getting his younger brother back into school.
The eldest in a family of three, Gombera is a Form Four learner at a private college in Mbare. He had given up hope of sitting his Ordinary Level examinations this year after his family failed to raise the registration fees.
His troubles began six years ago when his father died.
With the family breadwinner gone, his mother had to find a way to provide for her children. Without formal skills or enough money to start a business, she became a mobile vendor, selling onions, tomatoes and okra.
On a good day, she makes about US$5. On a bad day, she returns home without making a sale.
What she earns is barely enough to put food on the table and pay rent for the family’s tiny one-room home.
On some nights, the family goes to bed hungry.
Gombera finds those days difficult to talk about.
“I can’t fail to write my examinations again next year,” he said. “I want to be an engineer and I can’t allow my dream to fade away. That is why I decided to work and help my mother save money.”
His mother could not raise the nearly US$100 needed for the nine O-Level subjects he wants to sit.
His younger brother has since dropped out of school while in Form Two, placing another burden on Gombera.
“The Harare Derby means a huge pay cheque for us, especially for me,” he said. “I want to re-enrol my brother, so I save every cent I get.
“On any other match day, I make between US$3 and US$5, but during big games involving Dynamos, CAPS United and Highlanders, I can make double figures.”
The work is not easy. Some motorists refuse to pay the boys after already paying the official US$2 parking fee to City Parking.
At times, the police chase them away. They also spend hours working under the scorching sun.
But the cars coming into the parking lot feed Gombera’s dream of becoming an engineer.
“I see different types of cars in the parking bays and I’m always fascinated,” he said.
“I want to understand how they work. I dream of building cars and other machines one day.
“For me, football day is about making enough money to keep that dream alive. I wish a well-wisher could pay my examination fees or help my brother return to school.
“I cry myself to sleep on many nights. I watch my mother struggling and wish I could take the burden off her shoulders one day. I can’t let my dream die.”
As Dynamos face FC Hunters in this afternoon’s Chibuku Super Cup quarter-final at Rufaro Stadium, Gombera will be stationed in the parking lot, fighting a personal cup final for his own future.




