We had all been forewarned about the steel fist that FIFA would wield over South Africa during the World Cup. We knew that we would not be allowed our preferred beverages in the stadium, that we should forget about wearing any branded clothing that wasn’t pre-approved and that absolutely no banners would be permitted. On the way to the match, we clutched our vuvuzelas desperately as passing newspaper headlines threatened their banning.
But no one had warned us that the makarapa was to be the next sticking point. My son won his handmade, proudly South African makarapa at a company “best dressed supporter” competition and this was to be its first outing. Alongside the throngs of other vividly dressed supporters, this particular makarapa didn’t really stand out from the crowd. It was a fairly humble version without extended horns or swinging soccerballs, just a couple of happy diecut soccerplayers and the usual “Viva Bafana” sentiment.
Yet there must have been some subversive element that we were not aware of, some threat to national security, some non-FIFA affiliation that broke the rules. Upon entering the Soccer City grounds, the aforementioned makarapa was confiscated! No explanations were given, we were just told that “these things are not allowed”. Already running late for the kick off we didn’t think to argue and our poor makarapa joined a pile of others in a jumbled heap of discarded creativity and inventiveness. Naively, we hoped that we could pick it up again on our way out but this was not the case. All offensive articles had all been removed from the scene (possibly taken to some place where they could be safely defused or the sharp corners filed off).
It says a lot for the overall spirit of the occasion that we didn’t let this pettiness get us down. I do still wonder about the reasoning behind it though – and the obvious inconsistency. We must’ve gone through the “stickler” gate because there was much evidence in the stadium that not everyone had had to hand over their weapons. All I hope is that the confiscated goods get recycled; I’d far rather think of our makarapa adorning the head of some security guard’s child as opposed to just being thrown away. They are a uniquely South African expression of enthusiasm and creativity and deserve to be treated as a valued cultural artefact rather than some kind of ridiculous threat.
Viva la vuvuzela! Halala makarapa!