OPINION

On Senzo Miyewa's horrible death

Rhoda Kadalie writes that the cult of celebrity threatens to destroy our young sports heroes

Bafana Bafana Captain, Senzo Miyewa, died a horrible death in more ways than one. It is one thing to be brutally gunned down; it is another, to meet your maker in your mistress' house. This is every joller's fear. If Senzo could have chosen, he would not have wanted to die this way, given his star status.

I would hazard a guess that this much revered soccer captain, hardly anticipating such a vicious end to his life, was clearly deft at playing the field. And as has become customary in South Africa, sports heroes actually begin to believe that as "celebrities," they can have it all - wine, women, and song - regardless of the consequences of their adulterous liaisons. Attracted to actor, singer and mover of men, Kelly Khumalo, he knew he could have her, in his position as captain, and pursued her until he hit the jackpot.

Khumalo clearly has a penchant for famous men, having been had by a few, prior to hitching her wagon to bad boy hip-hop singer Molemo "Jub Jub" Maarohanye, who now languishes in jail, with all his money. Jub Jub, like Senzo, knew, given his success, that he could "have her".

Today, Kelly, who allegedly assaulted Miyewa's wife in a confrontation, has to care for her and the drag racer's child, as well as her and Senzo's, as a single parent who will find the memory of her lovers painfully etched into the faces of both these children every day. Although Meyiwa apologised for two-timing, he continued the relationship causing his wife and mother of his other children untold stress.

The consequences of his adultery seemed disastrous for both families who now fight over his belongings. What a sordid end to a magnificent soccer legacy. His parents clearly did not approve of their son's behaviour given his father's utterances in the media after his death. Reminiscent of that vile television series, Footballers' Wives, our soccer stars are giving substance to this soap opera by confirming every stereotype in the book.

Described on the internet as the "new rock ‘n roll", the Footballer's Wives set the precedent for our impressionable rising stars: "They've got the designer gear, the palatial homes, the flash cars, the platinum credit cards, and the handsome superstar husbands. But underneath it all they are ordinary women, struggling to keep their marriages intact while their husbands dazzle the crowds on the pitch, and the girls in the nightclubs..."

Susceptible to this superficial culture of "glitz and glam" our young players desperately need their sports coaches to mentor and offer life skills to our young players before this ethos of conspicuous consumption destroys them all. As a nation we have barely recovered from the Oscar-Reeva a soap opera, with its tragic consequences, when the Miyewa/Khumalo drama supplanted it.

The cult of celebrity will destroy our young sports heroes unless we acknowledge that many of them are either too inept or too young to deal with fame. As for the young Kelly Khumalo, she is a feminist nightmare. One wants to admire her chutzpah, but her recklessness will extinguish her ambitions, like it did Brenda Fassie.

It is one thing to pursue an ambition; it is another to do it honourably. The drugs, the men, and picking up children along the way, are just not on. She needs to understand that her first duty is to her children, just as Miyewa's duty was to his children. Lest I sound like a Mother Grundy, I am not against young people having fun and exploring relationships. What I am against is this fake "culture of celebrity" consuming many of our youth with talent, "Jerseylicious-style." Gauteng's crass materialism has to stop!

This article first appeared in Die Burger.

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