The African Cup of Nations has come and gone. I watched almost all games and even if I wasn’t happy that daddy didn’t make it to the finals, who would complain that mummy emerged second?
From the onset before the tournament, I suspected some funny or rather ridiculous moves that may see an unknown country come out proud winners and so did it be. Whoever believed that in a tournament that many sullenly predicted would be ‘boring’ without the powerhouses Egypt, Nigeria or Cameroon, Zambia, who were never even tipped as dark horses, gave fans one of the most exciting AFCON finals ever, catching the imagination and proving that big names do not equate to success, or even positive, charismatic football. At the latter end, I started enjoying myself and trust me that at the end, I came to a conclusion that God may be a Zambian. Why not? Didn’t they convincible thrash Sudanese Jediane Falcons? Didn’t they change the ‘Black Stars’ to ‘White Moon’? Didn’t they make the Elephants crawl back into the bush? Didn’t they get $59, 000 as rewards for their performance in the competition? Didn’t they break into the world’s top 50 and Africa’s 4th position? Who said that God isn’t a Zambian then?
After the AFCON 2012, I am thinking of paying my own tribute to the dead brethren but will rather call my kids with names like Christopher Katongo (the military man who will not leave soccer for people like us and go back to the war front) or Emmanuel Mayuka (the man all Ghanaians will be raining thunder and brimstones upon. His goal against Ghana in the Semi Finals was a mark of great talent. At just 21 years, he not only scores but assists). The Chipolopolo did show that spirits do live and that divine justice after 19 years can and is a reality.