Why we can't win Olympic medals - Part I

The 2012 Summer Olympic Games is in the books, our athletes are back home and safe, as our barren spell stretches to 32 years. Yes, Nyerere was still the president, we were still under ujamaa policies and my mother was still a teenager when Filbert Bayi and Suleiman Nyambui won silver medals in the 5000m and 3000m steeplechase at the Moscow Olympics in 1980.

The inevitable media inquest has already taken place, and now that the English Premier League is in full swing, we’ve all moved on from that debacle. For another 4 years. So long as we sweep this issue under the rug, it will be the same story come 2016 and 2020.

Only when there is a radical change on how we run sport in this country, is when things will start looking up. It’s very, very easy to point fingers at the Government for the dire state of sports in this country. The Government doesn’t fund this, the government could not be bothered, the government cancelled primary and secondary school sports…In my opinion, the problems with sport in this country are much, much deeper than that. We tend to ignore the elephant in the room.

Not only should we change how sport is run in this country, but also our mentalities and ways of thinking need to undergo a massive update as well. Like it or not, we are a nation of whiners, bigots, inflexibility and misplaced priorities to no end. I can go on and on.

In my opinion, there are four parts of the problem that need to be dealt with from ground level. I will discuss the first part in this post. The other three will be discussed separately in future posts.

Firstly, you and I. The wananchi are doing sports a great disservice. This most granular level of development is usually understated. We have to love sports. We need to become wholehearted fans. We need to participate in a variety of sports. We can’t like every single sport, but at least appreciate the effort and what it takes to become an elite sportsman in whatever sport. Most of all, we need to be patriotic towards our sportsmen and support their endeavours. We don’t know their whereabouts for four years, do not follow up their performances, yet expect them to sweep the medals come the Olympics. It’s like expecting Coastal Union to coast to Premier League title (pardon the pun) while they don’t have the players or money to compete with Simba and Yanga.

We’re considered a football-mad country, and this undermines the development of other sports, since sponsorship and time are directed towards football, its tournaments and development schemes. Not that the football is to blame, but fans have to learn that there is a huge world beyond Simba, Yanga and Man U. I was watching a cricket match one day, a match in which the national team was playing, and this guy passed by and said, “Look at this sport. What kind of enjoyment do they gain by playing it? It’s an Indian sport anyway.” He let out a laugh to make himself sound funny, I wasn’t impressed.

1980 Olympics silver medallist Suleiman Nyambui. Last athletes of a generation.

A recurring them when I talk to people, some promising sportsmen, or those with perfectly-chiseled bodies for sports excellence, is, ‘michezo ina nini Tanzania? Hata kama ukicheza hutoki.’ We are already resigned to the fact that there is nothing to gain from practicing sport in Tanzania, so you’re better off going to school and gaining some qualifications. Sure enough, I’m not advocating dropping out of school to do sports in this very uncertain environment, but so should you know, most of 11,000 athletes who went to the Olympics are amateurs, they aren’t paid a penny for playing their sport, but they put in many hours to get to London while holding down a job or two, or studying in university. Just like you and me, they have 24 hours in a day. Plan accordingly, log in the hours, and if you’re good enough, it will pay off.

Then take the case of a Tanzanian parent and compare him with a British parent, for instance. The British parent wants his son to become a footballer, play in the premier league and win titles. So he teaches him how to kick and run with the ball at a young age. He actively supports all his school matches, buys him all sports equipment and makes sure he doesn’t miss a training session.

The Tanzanian parent doesn’t want to hear a sport called football. In a street kickabout, the boy comes back with a huge graze from a fall. The father adds some double-digit number of strokes of the cane the pain of the wound. The kid saves up and buys himself some second –hand boots. The father finds out and mutilates them with a knife. When the boy says he is needed for a football tournament, he forbids him to go. Or else he’ll suffer his curse.

Now, my intention is not to stereotype British or Tanzanian parents, but those are two sets of stories that are common from developed countries in the former case and developing countries in the latter. I know our parents want the best for us, so they want us to concentrate on our education instead of sports where you have a very slim chance of making it big.  But parents should try to encourage their children to strike a balance between sports and education, not suppress a child’s sporting ability. Funny enough, next time the father goes to the bar, he’ll scream loudly about Simba and Yanga’s exploits, as if those players grew from trees!

One thing that baffles me greatly is the low numbers of women’s participation in sports. Even more, the few ladies who actively play such as the national women’s football and netball teams do not receive constant support from their fellow ladies in terms of attendance and moral support, despite the football team having qualified for the African Cup of Nations in 2010 and having hosted several international netball meets in the preceding years. The only ladies who went to London, Zakia Mrisho and Magdalena Moshi are the SAME ladies who went to Beijing in 2008, and that is absolutely unacceptable. And don’t tell me it’s a cultural issue.

There is no input from students from higher learning institutions in sports in Tanzania. This, to me is an intolerable anomaly.  These are girls who you’d expect that are learned enough to understand the importance of sports. I’ve lived in a university nearly all my life, never mind study in one, and the number of girls doing sports is very, very small. The University of Dar-es-Salaam, our biggest university has two football grounds, a cricket ground, four tennis courts, a handball ground, two basketball courts, a netball court, a volleyball courts, a running track round one of the football grounds, a swimming pool and lots of open space. Yet the grounds are always dominated by boys, and it’s very rare to see girls actively playing sport, even the so-called female sport, netball!

Girls actively participating in sports are at a premium nowadays.

Countries that actively supply female Olympians have sufficient input from universities, since they provide all training facilities a girl in the street would never have. Thus, it’s no surprise women’s participation is absolutely pitiful. The local saying ‘penye miti mingi hamna wajenzi’ tells the whole story. Once again, male and female students in higher learning institutions have the same amount of hours, so if boys can find time to practice for an hour, then why not girls? The issue of women and sports in Tanzania warrants its own post, in which I’ll discuss in detail some days to come

It’s time we take the lead, and not wait for the government or whichever organization to give us the kick up the arse. Lots of us do it in football. Why can’t we show the same dedication to other sports? I’ve belonged to several local football teams; we trained every evening, and played friendlies with teams from different places in Dar. We’ve contributed funds to aid our team, maintained our pitches and erected goalposts and so on. Yet we didn’t gain any penny. This is how you perfect your skills, leading to district, regional, and finally professional football.

For instance, lots of us complained that we ‘can’t even win medals in running while Kenya wins loads’. Well, I’ve never seen a running/jogging club before in Dar. Running is even cheaper than football! Why can’t someone take the lead, and post an ad on facebook, or on a bus stop, or at your school or university notice board and say, “If you think you’re a good runner, then come to a certain place at a certain time, or call this number”. Start with 4/5 runners, and train accordingly, with short and long term goals, with the main goal of improving times. Eventually, participation will grow, thus you’ll get an ample sample space, from which eventually you’ll get a national representative.

So, to recap, issues I’ve discussed pertaining how we as individuals undermine sports in Tanzania were: the lack of patriotism and love for sports in the first place, heaping unrealistic expectations on our athletes, too much concentration on football and neglecting, if not rubbishing other sports, the belief that sport will get you nowhere in Tanzania, the lack of parents’ undying support towards their children doing sports, and the very low numbers of women playing and supporting sports in the country, especially pinpointing those in higher learning institutions.

One sentence that would highlight this blog in a nutshell is, CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME.

So that is part 1 out of 4. For opinions, please drop a comment, or find me on my twitter handle, @alistairtms. Part 2 will be up on Saturday, so please keep tabs!