Encounters with Alele, a tribute

ISACK HAMATAFOOTBALL has given me the opportunity to meet many wonderful people, players and fans from all walks of life, all over the country. One of those is Nathanael Alweendo Kapule. They nicknamed him ‘Gullit’, ‘Dumisa’ and a couple others, but he preferred ‘Zico’.

It was a pleasure to know some of the country’s top footballers, and as fate would have it, I was properly positioned as a visiting Donkerhoek (Shandumbala) resident to meet many players who first played for African Blizzards and later Tigers.

Alele was one of those whose football careers I would passionately follow.

Our first encounter was in the March school holiday of 1986. My friend Colin Namene and I were visiting disco houses in the Ondjambo settlement. We spent some time at a particular house in Katutura and danced to the music blurting from the speakers.

Alele was dancing next to us. He seemed to know all the latest dancing styles, and in the process we bumped into each other. He said to me: “Hei, dans mooi, jong.”

I responded: “Hei, voertsek. Wie is jy om vir my te sê hoe ek moet dans?”

This is an incident we would laugh about much later.

We would have another encounter two years later during yet another school holiday.

It seemed I rubbed him and his friend Teenage Iyambo up the wrong way and they decided to show me who was boss.

I had heard that besides being an excellent footballer, Teenage was also a boxer, and he had a short fuse. The thought of being pummelled kept me in the house for hours on end.

One day I decided enough is enough. Alele was sent to watch me. I spotted him through a curtain as he passed the house. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and went to sharpen it outside, in full view of the passers-by. That act alone must have sent shivers down his spine.

He went back and reported what he had seen. The mission to discipline me was aborted there and then.

Gradually we would become well acquainted with each other, and over time he became one of my many older brothers, on top of being someone whose football skills I admired.

Despite our improved relationship, we would be on opposite ends once again when Tigers lost their lucrative United Africa sponsorship.

Many of us became directly involved in the day-to-day administration of the team. The players were used to be driven to and from training and official matches, slept in hotels during camping, had a sponsored haircut every other week and received their salaries on time.

However, without a sponsor, things were getting tougher and results on the field were also not providing any comfort.

Tigers kept sliding down the league table after every weekend’s matches and we started flirting with relegation.

That did not sit well with supporters who visited the training field.

Alele refused to be a diplomat. In no uncertain terms he issued the following instruction: “Sit net onse span terug waar julle dit gekry het, dan loop julle weg.”

Thankfully, the team survived relegation and acquired a new sponsor for the next season.

In the intervening years our relationship would grow.

During his time as a game warden, Alele would take me on afternoon game drives atop the Waterberg mountain.

I was amazed at how quickly he adapted to the bush environment.

From a football perspective, Alele was one of the greatest Namibian midfielders of his generation.

The number of matches he played stretches into the hundreds, but out of all of those, the one that stands out is a mid-1990 semi-final clash against Black Africa at Windhoek’s Independence Stadium.

As fate would have it, Alele was injured and was not eligible for selection that day.

Things were not looking up for Tigers, and clearly they were in need of someone to stir up things in the middle of the park.

The Tigers coach decided to take a gamble and ordered Alele to the cloak room to get dressed. As soon as he settled in, Alele started conducting the orchestra and in no time, Tigers were level at 2-all.

Unfortunately, Tigers lost on penalties and were dumped from the Cup, but Alele etched his name on the hearts of the die-hard Ingwe fans, and those from opposing teams learned to respect him more.