CECAFA, chaos keeps crowds away
Jan 09, 2009
There was a time when CECAFA was part of most of our local dialects.
By Hilary Bainemigisha
CECAFA, chaos keeps crowds away
There was a time when CECAFA was part of most of our local dialects.
Those good old days when a village would have one or two radios that only came to life during death announcements and the super league football on Saturday.
There was a mzee in my village, a World War II veteran, who moved around bars with his radio. Bar owners gave him a discount because wherever he went, customers followed.
But when it came to CECAFA, he would switch it off prompting us to fundraise for cells. Then every evening, men would gather at a local joint to listen to football commentaries and proceed to narrate to those who missed with the precision of eye witnesses.
Today, only a few know CECAFA is going on. Even in Kampala where many know, few have preferred CECAFA to pork. The first match at Bugembe was a quiet affair. The game ended in a draw for Sudan and Kenya as Zambia beat Djobouti 3-0.
Then came the official opening which I had decided was going to be my highlight of New Year’s Day. The timing was right, the two-matches-per-ticket was fair and it was Uganda vs Rwanda! That was a good bait for my money.
But wait! We had been told kick off would be at 5:00pm, but when I showed up, the first game was in second half!
Secondly, I parked at my usual spot by the gate near Jokas Hotel only to be told that this gate was closed.
Only three gates would be open and if we were clever, said a Policeman at the gate, we would just walk around the Namboole fence to the main entrance gates instead of complaining.
This bored Policeman was one of the many cops deployed at a ratio of one cop to two spectators that day only that he was outside the stadium and his colleagues were inside. His facial expression was repulsive. Like it was advising you to argue only if teargas has been prescribed for you by your skin specialist.
Off we drove to the main parking yard where, after lining up, we were told that the entrance was for pavilion, sh20,000. If we wanted sh10,000 gates, we had to go around the stadium again. So, while Zanzibar was beating Somalia 2-0, we were wandering around Wakiso district looking for stadium gates that are more friendly to sh10,000.
Why this information can’t be availed to us, the consumers, before we have to wander like Israelites in the wilderness, was a question organisers had to answer. So, I approached one and listen to what he said: “Look my friend, a computer has just disappeared from the press room,†he said.
“What you are asking me is nothing compared to what I am doing, looking for it!†Poor official: They reveal what they are supposed to keep and keep what they are supposed to reveal. CECAFA!
Lack of guidance almost caused us a bloody scene once inside.
I was seated in entrance 17 wondering what the officials should do better, when suddenly, a group of about 40 Rwandan supporters, with drums, flags and bugles, entered singing. Fellow Ugandans took this as a declaration of war and promptly reacted appropriately.
They ordered the Rwandan supporters to go elsewhere, but the guests said they had not been allocated any place. They had paid to enter and so, they had a right to be anywhere.
In football, you don’t reason like that. Soon a scuffle ensued where the Rwandan supporters, urged by the females in their company (don’t play with a guy who has a woman in his company), took an upper hand and even captured a Ugandan flag.
Other Ugandans in other sections saw the fracas and ran to reinforce colleagues. They failed to liberate the flag but managed to capture a Rwanda flag. Soon both captured flags were in flames. Our own Policemen, seated within the same section, reacted to it with an unusual level of cool maturity, similar to the way a statue reacts when it is poked in the eyeballs by kids.
I approached one of them to intervene and he said he had already been frustrated by the organisers. That he thought this trouble was necessary to teach them a lesson that fans needed guidance.
The Riot Police was down on the pitch, probably waiting for orders from Above to fire teargas in any direction. But luckily, the Rwandan entourage withdrew to a depopulated segment, leaving Ugandans celebrating victory.
And that was when Police woke up to throw out about 10 reluctant Ugandans who had already settled in that segment.
In an organised stadium, different fans are allocated separate sections and guided to their appropriate places!
Talking of disorganisation, the entertainment as we waited for the Ugandan match was a real confusion.
There was a brass band, cultural troupes and music in the stadium speakers all at a go, producing a package very difficult to consume.
It was absolutely difficult to present a face without a frown. If The Cranes hadn’t beaten Amavubi 4-0, my New Year’s Day would have been a mess.
But even at Nakivubo last Saturday, it was not smiles for everyone. At the gate I used to enter were Ibrahim Sekagya, who plays professional football for Red Bull Salzburg in Austria and Johnson Bagoole, who plays for Attraco, Rwanda. The two national players had been denied entry because they did not have tickets.
They argued that they always enter free but the official preferred to get his orders from Above. We all pleaded for our stars, but to no avail. I wondered how long they had to wait and hoped Above was not busy sniffing around for a computer that had gone missing from the press room.
And the lovable Cranes once again found a way to bring joy to the literally millions of people who do not support them by losing the match 0-0.
We need to return to the basics of consumer is king. Spending money is one of the most painful decisions.
It needs to be made in comfortable circumstances. In the process, people will develop loyalty to the tournament and the team. Spending billions on adverts without good customer care will not fill up the stadia.
And if you want more advice, you have to pay for it.
CECAFA, chaos keeps crowds away
There was a time when CECAFA was part of most of our local dialects.
Those good old days when a village would have one or two radios that only came to life during death announcements and the super league football on Saturday.
There was a mzee in my village, a World War II veteran, who moved around bars with his radio. Bar owners gave him a discount because wherever he went, customers followed.
But when it came to CECAFA, he would switch it off prompting us to fundraise for cells. Then every evening, men would gather at a local joint to listen to football commentaries and proceed to narrate to those who missed with the precision of eye witnesses.
Today, only a few know CECAFA is going on. Even in Kampala where many know, few have preferred CECAFA to pork. The first match at Bugembe was a quiet affair. The game ended in a draw for Sudan and Kenya as Zambia beat Djobouti 3-0.
Then came the official opening which I had decided was going to be my highlight of New Year’s Day. The timing was right, the two-matches-per-ticket was fair and it was Uganda vs Rwanda! That was a good bait for my money.
But wait! We had been told kick off would be at 5:00pm, but when I showed up, the first game was in second half!
Secondly, I parked at my usual spot by the gate near Jokas Hotel only to be told that this gate was closed.
Only three gates would be open and if we were clever, said a Policeman at the gate, we would just walk around the Namboole fence to the main entrance gates instead of complaining.
This bored Policeman was one of the many cops deployed at a ratio of one cop to two spectators that day only that he was outside the stadium and his colleagues were inside. His facial expression was repulsive. Like it was advising you to argue only if teargas has been prescribed for you by your skin specialist.
Off we drove to the main parking yard where, after lining up, we were told that the entrance was for pavilion, sh20,000. If we wanted sh10,000 gates, we had to go around the stadium again. So, while Zanzibar was beating Somalia 2-0, we were wandering around Wakiso district looking for stadium gates that are more friendly to sh10,000.
Why this information can’t be availed to us, the consumers, before we have to wander like Israelites in the wilderness, was a question organisers had to answer. So, I approached one and listen to what he said: “Look my friend, a computer has just disappeared from the press room,†he said.
“What you are asking me is nothing compared to what I am doing, looking for it!†Poor official: They reveal what they are supposed to keep and keep what they are supposed to reveal. CECAFA!
Lack of guidance almost caused us a bloody scene once inside.
I was seated in entrance 17 wondering what the officials should do better, when suddenly, a group of about 40 Rwandan supporters, with drums, flags and bugles, entered singing. Fellow Ugandans took this as a declaration of war and promptly reacted appropriately.
They ordered the Rwandan supporters to go elsewhere, but the guests said they had not been allocated any place. They had paid to enter and so, they had a right to be anywhere.
In football, you don’t reason like that. Soon a scuffle ensued where the Rwandan supporters, urged by the females in their company (don’t play with a guy who has a woman in his company), took an upper hand and even captured a Ugandan flag.
Other Ugandans in other sections saw the fracas and ran to reinforce colleagues. They failed to liberate the flag but managed to capture a Rwanda flag. Soon both captured flags were in flames. Our own Policemen, seated within the same section, reacted to it with an unusual level of cool maturity, similar to the way a statue reacts when it is poked in the eyeballs by kids.
I approached one of them to intervene and he said he had already been frustrated by the organisers. That he thought this trouble was necessary to teach them a lesson that fans needed guidance.
The Riot Police was down on the pitch, probably waiting for orders from Above to fire teargas in any direction. But luckily, the Rwandan entourage withdrew to a depopulated segment, leaving Ugandans celebrating victory.
And that was when Police woke up to throw out about 10 reluctant Ugandans who had already settled in that segment.
In an organised stadium, different fans are allocated separate sections and guided to their appropriate places!
Talking of disorganisation, the entertainment as we waited for the Ugandan match was a real confusion.
There was a brass band, cultural troupes and music in the stadium speakers all at a go, producing a package very difficult to consume.
It was absolutely difficult to present a face without a frown. If The Cranes hadn’t beaten Amavubi 4-0, my New Year’s Day would have been a mess.
But even at Nakivubo last Saturday, it was not smiles for everyone. At the gate I used to enter were Ibrahim Sekagya, who plays professional football for Red Bull Salzburg in Austria and Johnson Bagoole, who plays for Attraco, Rwanda. The two national players had been denied entry because they did not have tickets.
They argued that they always enter free but the official preferred to get his orders from Above. We all pleaded for our stars, but to no avail. I wondered how long they had to wait and hoped Above was not busy sniffing around for a computer that had gone missing from the press room.
And the lovable Cranes once again found a way to bring joy to the literally millions of people who do not support them by losing the match 0-0.
We need to return to the basics of consumer is king. Spending money is one of the most painful decisions.
It needs to be made in comfortable circumstances. In the process, people will develop loyalty to the tournament and the team. Spending billions on adverts without good customer care will not fill up the stadia.
And if you want more advice, you have to pay for it.