Top Zimbabwean cricketers have resorted to black-market hustling to survive
Steven Price07-Jun-2008
Warning note: the Zimbabwean currency introduced by the reserve bank in January is valid for six months only and its value falls daily © AFP
It is mid-afternoon in brute heat. Tafadzwa Gumbo (not his real name) is oneof several people dotted around a popular municipal park in central Harare. He franticallytries to make a call on his mobile. The nightmarish state of the networkmeans the connection rate is about once a day. He could almost give up buthe cannot.Gumbo is one of Zimbabwe’s “professional” cricketers. A bright prospect, heattended the national academy when it was still an institution of repute, andwent on to represent Zimbabwe A. He is still a key player for his provincein domestic first-class games.In Zimbabwe the public still see cricket as a rich sport. Once provincialcricketers were well-remunerated and some even drove sponsored cars. NowZimbabwe Cricket (ZC) pays Gumbo around £6 a month (or Z$600m on the blackmarket).Only the 13 regular national-team players can now be said to be comfortable.For the 20 or so on the fringes, such as Gumbo, whom ZCexpects to survive solely on cricket, it is hard to earn a living. Afterpaying his rent – one of the lowest in a middle-income suburb – Gumbo hasjust enough to buy four pints of lager at current prices.So what does he do to survive? “Hustling, of course,” he says – street lingofor money-changing on the black market, buying and selling almost anything,and other, not always orthodox, ruses.”Tell me, if I didn’t do this, how would I survive?” he asks. “I have abillion dollars on me right now,” and he empties the pockets of hisprovincial side’s tracksuit trousers to reveal a bundle of Z$10m notes.”I’ve just made it today. My employers don’t even pay me this in a month,yet it’s peanuts.”Gumbo says players like him are used only for propaganda by the Zimbabweboard. “They only care about us guys when it’s time for the Logan Cup and Faithwear (the provincial one-day competition), when they need players to fill the first-class sides so that ICC and everyone can see cricket is being played. We are there to makeup numbers. After that they dump us. They don’t care about the standard ofcricket and our welfare. One of the selectors asked me why my form haddipped. I asked him back how he expected me to perform when I was alwaysthinking of how to get the bus fare to commute to practice and even to buy food.”Players like Gumbo are “rewarded” by being given hotel stay and hotel foodfor a month or so during a reluctantly organised Logan Cup. They are notentitled to out-of-pocket allowances, while highly paid board managers flybusiness class, claim hefty allowances and enjoy top executive rooms onfrequent trips. And now the board is considering accommodating first-classteams in school hostels to cut costs.At least, this season a Zimbabwe side were invited to play in South Africa’ssecond-tier provincial competition, where daily allowances in rand werewelcome cash relief.This kind of treatment has led to several young players leaving cricket. Oneformer national Under-19 and senior provincial player, widely seen as asolution to Zimbabwe’s left-arm pace problem, “retired” dejectedly at 21after being suddenly ignored by a new set of out-of-touch selectors. He nowdeals in mobile-phone credit from his parents’ house in Harare’s high-density Highfield suburb. Another 22-year-old with one-day caps is now a currencydealer.For those who still look to cricket the future hinges on the next few monthsand the outcome of Zimbabwe’s disputed election. Gumbo says: “A lot of guyswill retire if things don’t improve. As for me, I am just waiting for theelection outcome to see if there is a future.”
