Yesteryear greats with Lovemore Dube
PERCY NGWENYA still remembers the roar of the crowds, the packed fields and the endless stream of talent that poured out of Zimbabwe’s mining towns.
A former Gaths Mine 800m specialist, he says the silence today is deafening.
“The absence of mines athletics in national teams is cause for concern,” Ngwenya says.
“It’s not because the athletes aren’t good enough, but because the activity itself has died in towns that once bustled with talent.”
From the 1960s through the early 2000s, mining towns like Mhangura, Hwange, Cam and Motor, Zisco, Gaths, and Shabanie were the heartbeat of Zimbabwean athletics. They supplied the bulk of the runners who flew the national flag at the Commonwealth Games and the Olympics. Mines identified raw talent from rural areas and cities, nurtured it and gave athletes a platform to excel beyond the country’s borders.
“It was like a death nail on the sport,” Ngwenya says. “Look at the numbers that came to Chamber of Mines, provincial, inter-club or national championships. The majority were from mining communities. We live in nostalgia now, those of us who saw both worlds. When we talk about the collapse of athletics, we are talking about the numbers and the quality they brought to the national scene.”
He concedes there is fresh talent coming from schools and academies, but believes the country’s athletics would be far stronger if it still had the mines to complement the current crop.
“With a functional Chamber of Mines we would have very strong athletes in national teams. That competition pushed everyone to the limit,” he says.
Ngwenya speaks with authority. He wasn’t just a competitor, he was an athlete, a coach, and later a mentor to a generation that included Olympian Crispen Mutakanyi. His own story is a testament to the mines’ sporting culture.
After almost five years away from competitive running, Ngwenya found himself in the Gaths Mine team for the 1986 Chamber of Mines Games. He had last raced at Mpopoma High School before training as a radiographer.
At Gaths, sport was compulsory every Wednesday. One afternoon, he drifted to the fields as a spectator, overheard the coaches complaining about the 800m, and boldly volunteered.
“Coach Boniface Magodo was a worried man. I’d been there barely a week, but I told him I could run. You can imagine the looks I got,” he says with a laugh.
Allowed to line up reluctantly, he stunned everyone by beating Emson Moyo and Kenias Ncube. From the terraces, he had stepped into the spotlight. They bought him his first spikes, and he went on to win bronze in the 800m and another medal in the 4x400m at the Games hosted by Zisco.
“I had shocked even myself,” he says.
“From then, I became an integral part of the team for close to a decade.”
Ngwenya was inspired by the giants of the time: Tapfumaneyi Jonga, Zephania Ncube, Charles Gumbura, Charles Gwanzura, and Partson Muderedzi. The competition was brutal, but he soon became a regular top three finisher in national meets. He recalls the 1990 Chamber Championships with clarity.
“That year I was doing hill runs in the Mashava Hills every morning before work. I was fit and confident,” he says.
“In the 800m final, no one wanted to kick at the bell. I waited, then with 300m to go, I switched gears. I ran all the way home unchallenged. I was so exhausted I couldn’t even collect my medal.”
The mines provided fierce competition, recruiting heavily from schools and companies. Events were electric.
“Athletics locally was no kids’ play. Every event was explosive,” Ngwenya says.
When he retired in the mid-90s, he moved to coaching. He guided athletes like Mutakanyi, Julius and Jeffrey Masvanhise, Emmanuel Matashu, Panganai Mandaza, and Phillip Mukomana. One of his proudest moments came in Bindura when his 4x400m quartet of Mutakanyi, the Masvanhise brothers, and Mukomana swept the top four places in individual races before combining for a crushing relay victory.
“The die was cast that day. We dominated the relay and I knew we had something special,” he recalls.
As a Level Two IAAF trained coach, Ngwenya presided over one of Zimbabwe’s golden eras of sprinting in the late 1990s and early 2000s, when any of the Masvanhises, Mukomana, Gabriel Chikomo, Godwin Tauya, Jeffrey Wilson, Lloyd Zvasita or Temba Ncube could win the 100, 200, or 400m.
“It was exciting to watch fields stacked with quality, and to see your own athletes hold their own,” he says.
Today, that ecosystem is gone. The economic meltdown between 2007 and 2009 stripped mines of non-core activities like athletics. A few have returned, but most focus only on golf for executives, or football and netball at a smaller scale. Tug-of-war and track cycling also vanished with the collapse of mine sponsored sport.
Ngwenya shakes his head.
“We will always celebrate the talent we once had, but without the mines, Zimbabwean athletics lost its lungs.”



