COSAFA Champions!

After recent attending the Zambia vs South Africa football match I was hooked. I knew that I needed to see all the Chipolopolo boys matches that were in town. It was just my luck that this weekend again there was another match - this time the COSAFA Cup final between Zambia and Angola. The COSAFA Cup is an annual competition between nations like Angola, South Africa, Namibia, Lesotho, Swaziland, Madagascar, Seychelles, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Zambia, Botswana, Malawi, and maybe a couple of more.

There had been a lot of fear among the folks here – Angola after all was at the World Cup this past year. I think I was the only person I know to actually predict a Zambian victory. The pessimistic attitude was mirrored by the attendance which was quite low compared to the last game I was at – although it filled up over the course of the game. The police presence was very high and they were heavily armed with tear gas and beating sticks – I think last time they played Angola there was a riot.

Contrary to the predictions of most, Zambia played incredible football – wonderful runs, great setups, excellent midfield play. After peppering the net with shots for the first half it was still 0-0, but their luck would change in about the 60^th minute or so. Luckily, Zambia was shooting at the net on our end in the second half so we got a very good look at both goals, one in the 60^th minute or so and the other right near the end. When Zambia scored the first time the crowd erupted in ecstatics. It was a moving sea of human joy swelling with the emotions of a long awaited goal against a fearsome opponent. I have not seen the sheer joy of the crowd ever mirrored in any of the North American sporting events I have attended. When Zambia scored a second time everyone knew the match was done. Joyous pandemonium ensued but remained peaceful throughout the stadium. The crowd roar continued as Zambia’s captain hoisted the COSAFA Cup and the team paraded it around the pitch (which was, at this time, surrounded by riot police to prevent the chance of a pitch invasion.

The walk home was an experience in itself. Of the hour long walk home, probably forty minutes were spent walking by kids waving branches, singing songs, and chanting “Go, Zambia, Go.” Everyone, it seemed, was out on the street to celebrate. All the vehicles passing by honked, yelled, and/or gave signals of victory. Apparently I had been shown on the TV broadcast not only once, but twice, so many people recognized me on the way home and were excited to see me. Not only was I the muzungu, I was a muzungu wearing a Zambia football scarf, and had been on TV – a triple threat. It will be a party tonight in the compound! Also cool was that we saw the Angolan national team drive right past us in their team bus, heavily guarded by a police motorcade.

One interesting element of the football match and the party afterwards was the political overtones associated with the celebrations. The raised fist – which I had assumed was related to black power – is actually the symbol for the Patriotic Front political party. The street celebrations included rowing motions (to go along with their motto “get on the boat”) and people shouting Pabwato – Bemba for we are on the boat now. The symbols used to celebrate this victory for the nation are the same as they use to campaign for a political party that is, while incredibly popular in the city, a minority nationwide.

Unfortunately this is the last of the Chipolopolo boys till March or May. I will eagerly be awaiting their return!