It is always a pleasure to watch athletics on TV. It provides a fresh break from the football dominated world of sports. Do not get me wrong, I am as passionate about football as the next fan. But as the Chichewa proverb wisely puts it, “Nyimbo imodzi sachezera gule” (You cannot dance just to one song all night), sometimes you need to switch it up.
This year’s Olympics delivered a spectacular showcase of athletics. The medal winners, beaming with pride, knew they had etched their names into history, bringing honour to their nations. Among the standout moments was Botswana’s golden triumph, thanks to the incredible performance of Letsile Tebogo in the 200 meters. His record-breaking run, the fastest ever by an African in that event, sent waves of jubilation through his country. So much so that the authorities there declared a national holiday to celebrate their son’s remarkable achievement.
Athletics, likely the world’s oldest sport, has given rise to countless legends over the millennia. One of the most iconic in recent years is Jamaica’s Usain Bolt, famously known as the fastest man on Earth. His blistering world records in sprint races remain untouched since his retirement in 2017. With a staggering eight Olympic gold medals to his name, Bolt’s dominance on the track cemented his status as a global phenomenon. His influence extended beyond athletics, earning him a place among Time Magazine’s 100 most influential people in 2016.
One of the athletes who truly captivated me at this year’s Olympics was Uganda’s Joshua Cheptegei, a long-distance runner competing in the 10,000-meter race. For much of the race, he lingered near the back of the pack, trailing the frontrunners. Yet, the commentator’s unwavering praise painted him in a glowing light as the laps unfolded. I could not help but wonder if the commentator was falling victim to the psychological “halo effect,” perhaps recalling Cheptegei’s past triumphs. But with two laps to go, the real Cheptegei began to reveal himself. Like a quail suddenly set free, he surged forward with remarkable grace, steadily overtaking one athlete after another. In a breathtaking finish, he claimed the gold medal.
Another athlete who shared the same surname as Joshua Cheptegei and left a lasting mark on the world of athletics was Rabecca Cheptegei. A contemporary of Joshua, she was a long-distance runner who held the Ugandan national record in the marathon and even set a world record in mountain running. Sadly, her story is now told in the past tense due to her tragic and untimely death on 5th September, 2024. In a horrific turn of events, her former partner, Dickson Ndiema Maragach, doused her with petrol and set her ablaze after an argument over property she had purchased. Like the furnace attendants in the Biblical tale of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who perished in the same flames they kindled, Dickson too succumbed to the fire he ignited to kill his ex-partner, dying few days later.
The limelight of athletics seems to elude Malawi, as we have yet to secure a gold medal at the Olympics. I believe this can be attributed largely to a lack of proper preparation. Take, for example, the late Rabecca Cheptegei, who was born in Uganda but moved to Kenya as an adult to gain access to better athletics training facilities. This move highlights a fundamental truth: the importance of training in athletics, as in any other field of human achievement, cannot be overstated.
Our athletes’ lack of early exposure to the discipline exacerbates the situation. Many of our schools no longer offer athletic disciplines, a stark contrast to the 1960s and 1970s. I remember attending William Murray Demonstration School at Nkhoma Mission in the 1970s, where we had annual inter-school athletics competitions. We competed in a wide range of events, including the 100 meters, relay races, high jump, long jump, pole vault, shotput and discus. Such regular exposure nurtured athletic talent early on.
Back then, our athletes did not have trainers, relying on their instincts in the heat of competition. Most of the high jumpers, for example, would clear the bar in an upright position, landing on their feet, a common sight during our school events. But then there was Alex Mdziwabwako—a true standout. He defied the norm, launching himself headfirst, gliding over the bar in a horizontal orientation, and landing on his chest. Watching Alex was pure delight. His jumping antics never failed to mesmerize the crowd, turning what was a simple event into a spectacle of athletic flair.
We need to search within our school system to rediscover the magic of yesteryears so that we can produce modern day Mdziwabwakos.