Bafana have scored, Africa is alive

Five o’clock and a moment to set the silent dreams of a nation free and once again unite it in a moment of euphoria. Making our way down the street and out of Masiphumelele en route to Green Point Stadium, the township erupted with a people ready to believe that this was their World Cup, and that they did indeed belong. Joy on a level I have never once seen.

We had just left Kolobe St, in the northern confines of the township of Masiphumelele, en route to Green Point Stadium courtesy of Sony who had donated us 45 tickets. We’d
watched a stronger looking Mexico team run Bafana around the park in the first half, and the 60 or so packed into the tiny wooden shack had watched through narrowed, squinted eyes as every attack was repelled by a thread bare looking defence. In stark contrast, every Bafana attack was cheered wildly, to fever pitch. 

We’d timed our departure for town at half time. That Bafana were still clinging on was reason for cheer and the streets were full with the rich noise of trumpeting vuvuzelas. Everyone was dancing, pleased to still be in the game, in the tournament, avoiding the day one humiliation everyone feared here. The kids piled into the two mini-buses, their watching mothers’ ululating filling the air, proud to see their young children witness South Africa’s finest hour in the flesh. The kids jostled for space and chatted eagerly about Henry, Anelka, Evra; the names from the Premiership that plays late on free view here, filling the screens into the township nights. 

Then something happens. The taxi driver screams, unable to enunciate his words clearly, fumbling with the handle of the minibus he’s just jammed to a halt in the middle of the street, pulling the radio cables out in his scramble to leave the cab. People come falling out of the shacks, pulling at their shirts, crying, screaming, and wailing in disbelief. The bus doors fly open, the kids run into the street where they are picked up by mothers, fathers, brothers, anyone, and everything stops. Bafana have scored the first goal of the World Cup. A host nation, the lowest to partake in a World Cup, that has tiptoed round the dream of glory and been happy just to partake now believes. The World Cup is theirs. South Africa comes alive. It is beautiful.