Putco Mafani: The Price and Prize of Greatness

By Putco Mafani

Putco Mafani has become a household name in South Africa. He overcame not only poverty, but solitary confinement by a brutal government, tribalism, being doubted, a traumatic divorce, and unemployment. Had he not risen above, he would not have come to know, as he writes, ‘the price and prize of greatness’.
Putco, a former deputy principal, went on to Umhlobo Wenene FM, where he anchored the biggest breakfast show in the country. He was Kaizer Chiefs PRO. An inspirational South African story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tafelberg
• Release date: Sep 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9780624089285

Putco Mafani

Putco Mafani is one of South Africa's best known broadcasters. He conceived of and hosted the BEE – i-Breakfast Eyondlayo Ekuseni –  show on uMhlobo Wenene, building up a listenership of 3.1 million by the time he left. After his success as Kaizer Chiefs' PRO, he is currently a sought-after public speaker and MC. He lives in East London.

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9780624089810_FC

PUTCO

MAFANI

THE PRICE AND PRIZE

OF GREATNESS

TAFELBERG

Dedication

I dedicate this book to the sons and daughters of my small town of Fort Beaufort, also known as Bhofolo, in the Eastern Cape. I also dedicate it to South Africans in general, particularly those who grew up with more questions than answers, and to those who were brought up in socio-economically poor settings. Many were considered children of single parents and were raised by their grandmothers who they thought were their actual mothers. I dedicate this book to those growing up with certain defects and situations beyond their control. I dedicate this book to the ones who even doubted their self-worth, esteem and true identity. I dedicate this book to those who never tasted the guiding hand of their biological fathers and missed out on their fathers’ voices, tough love, life modelling and admonishments, more so boys. But mostly I dedicate it to those heroes who defied all such ills. This book is dedicated to the vulnerable, the weak who triumphed above the ordinary setbacks of life and became extraordinary achievers. From the onset it may look as if there is nothing special about these people, but in the long run their qualities need to be known and acknowledged.

Abbreviations and Acronyms

ADJ – Association of Democratic Journalists

AFCON – Africa Cup of Nations

ANC – African National Congress

APLA – Azanian People’s Liberation Army

BA – Bachelor of Arts

BEE – black economic empowerment

CAF – Confederation of African Football

CKI – Radio Ciskei

DRC – Democratic Republic of Congo

ECESA – Eastern Cape Entertainment Stars Award

FIFA – International Federation of Association Football

JSS – Junior Secondary School

LOC – Local Organising Committee

MACUFE – Mangaung African Cultural Festival

MBA – master of Business Administration

MC – master of ceremonies

PMC – Putcomafani Consulting

PRO – public relations officer

PSL – Premier Soccer League

PVA – public viewing area

RDP – Reconstruction and Development Programme

RSA – Republic of South Africa

RTMC – Road Traffic Management Corporation

SABC – South African Broadcasting Corporation

SAFA – South African Football Association

SAMRO – Southern African Music Rights Organisation

SDA – Seventh-Day Adventist

TKI – Radio Transkei

UDF – United Democratic Front

WSU – Walter Sisulu University

ZAC – Zwelitsha Adult Choir

Foreword

Kaizer Motaung

Executive Chairman – Kaizer Chiefs Football Club

When Louis ‘Sprinter’ Tshakoane left Kaizer Chiefs in 1999, we needed to find a new public relations officer. I used to listen to Putco Mafani on the SABC and gathered that he was a Kaizer Chiefs supporter. Because of the position Putco had at the SABC, we thought he would do well with communications at the club. I decided to meet him. We didn’t even advertise the vacant post. We sat down at Chiefs Village with him and had a fruitful discussion. We were happy to hear that he was interested in working with us.

Putco joined Kaizer Chiefs in July 1999. He had big shoes to fill, and the first Vodacom Challenge was about to kick off. But I needn’t have worried – Putco was simply amazing and hit the ground running. Of course, it helped that he worked with a good team, which included Emy Casaletti-Bwalya and her sister, Vivian.

Putco had a gift for capturing the audience. It was therefore no wonder that he developed an excellent rapport with our supporters. He was a natural. To reach out to the supporters was important and he interacted a lot with the branches, travelling all over the country. He did that with a swagger as if he had prepared for this role his whole life. The supporters adored him. To see him in action explained why: Putco combined unbelievable charisma with a good sense of humour.

When Putco invited me to write a preface for his book, I knew this would be loaded with his life with us in the Kaizer Chiefs family. I knew we would see him as a public relations officer and an entertainer, a comforter, a preacher – just like our village pastor – and a strategist. Putco believed we could achieve anything on offer. To him, nothing really seemed impossible and sometimes his utterances at press conferences made coaches shake their heads in disbelief.

I have no doubt this book will make people discover greatness in themselves as did our players, our supporters and his colleagues in the management and on the staff at Kaizer Chiefs. Putco’s mobility and ability to organise were a wonder and we were always in awe of his passion for making others happy, sometimes at his own peril.

There are traits of leadership that we discovered about Tshawe (Putco’s clan name) on his journey with us. I will never forget the incredible role he played on 11 April 2001 – the day of the Ellis Park Stadium disaster. When the problems broke out at the stadium during a Soweto Derby between Kaizer Chiefs and Orlando Pirates, there was mayhem. People panicked, which made the situation even worse. I still vividly remember how Putco took the microphone and started speaking. It was impossible to prepare for what he did. His words captured the attention of everybody, both in the stadium and watching the game on television at home. What was more important was that Putco’s words calmed the waters. It was an unbelievable achievement.

We started the following 2001/2002 season excellently, winning in the space of six months the Vodacom Challenge, the BP Top Eight, the Coca-Cola Cup and, most importantly, the African Cup Winners’ Cup. That’s when Putco came up with the theme ‘Operation Vat Alles’ – ‘Operation Take All’. It was a typical example of how he invented interesting and innovative slogans. He had the ability to keep our fans fired up all the time. We did so, ‘taking all’ of the knock-out trophies on offer, but sadly the league title eluded us in 2001. That was because of the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney, for which a few of our players were selected to represent South Africa. We had to play catch-up afterwards and that simply became a bit too much.

Putco was more than just a public relations officer. He was an all-rounder, a great entertainer who could also sing. There was never a dull moment when he was around. He was such good company. Putco is a great personality with immense character. On top of that, he has a unifying factor about him and I can’t ever remember him having a serious disagreement with a fellow staff member. He left us in April 2005.

Putco had an illustrious career at Chiefs and we are proud to have shared our journey with him for six years. He will always feature prominently in the history of our club. We wish him all the best in his future endeavours and wish to see the day his dream baby oil company thrives. If it’s not that, then through his radio station business and his new passion for writing books, Putco will have enough money to invest in Kaizer Chiefs. I have no doubt this book will make a great read and I implore anyone seeking greatness to try his approach of loving people and loving what one does.

Foreword

Dr Jongimpi Papu

President of the Cape Conference of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church

Rather than being a map to greatness, this book is more of a microscope to assist one in discovering one’s own potential. Truth be told, we are not grasshoppers but indeed a species that carries inherently the seeds of greatness. The sprouting and the successful germination of the seed require certain basic elements. The absence of a beautiful plant does not mean the absence of the seed. It may mean, as it often does, the absence of a conducive environment.

We all have stories that we may take for granted and see as isolated and meaningless incidents. Putco’s story forces us to see in our stories a dynamic thread that runs seamlessly throughout our life’s episodes. What constitutes a tree and distinguishes it from a stone is not its height or its size but its nature. So it is with greatness. It is not the size or the popularity, but a life that has been lived and that, in the process, encouraged others to do the same.

Indeed, greatness can assume different definitions. What is the difference between the experiences of the author at Bethel as bell-ringer and as one of the organising members of the 2010 FIFA World Cup? Both represent different shapes of greatness – one in an obscure village at an unknown school and the other in a space that was open to the whole world. It is here that we see that greatness is an attitude and not just an achievement. It is being and doing your best every day and is characterised by deliberate excellence. It can be said that, for Putco, greatness manifested itself on different platforms: at Radio Ciskei, Umhlobo Wenene and Kaizer Chiefs, and on TV. However, those platforms do not create greatness but afford it an opportunity to blossom.

Looking at Putco’s journey, we learn to appreciate the value of those who are in many ways responsible for the seed of greatness pulsating in our lives. These are our family members, our parents, our relatives. What we see in them compels us to appreciate what is in us. We acknowledge that, for the better part, what is in us has nothing to do with us; it was planted and all it needs is nourishment. Our home influences have a lot to do with how effectively we navigate life.

Putco takes us on a journey away from home and we see him carving a home away from home in both good and trying circumstances. As we can see from Putco’s life, success, while a darling to many, can easily be a detestable foe. Many lives have been crucified on the pinnacle of success. But through the eyes of Putco, we see that such episodes of success can serve as passages to greater heights instead of being drawbacks.

We also observe that difficulties along the journey do not always mean you are on the wrong path. These are sometimes thrown in our way to prevent us from reaching the intended destination. But in them, again, we see the training ground and stepping-stones for further exploits and growth. Difficulties come in many shapes and sizes; some are thrown at us, but the worst are those we invite into our lives.

Now read this book and, if all goes well, you will realise your own greatness and may be inspired to write your own story. For, you see, true greatness is not achieved but realised – this is one of those books that will assist you in your own self-discovery.

Part One

My Life Story

GRACE ONE

Born in Bhofolo, will he rise above?

The first question people ask me is: does your name have anything to do with the bus company? Let me tell you straight off: it has nothing to do with the bus company. It’s a nickname that my creative amajita – friends – extracted from my name, Mputumi. I’m still not quite sure how.

Abazali baseBhofolo, apho ndizalelwe khona, kodwa babesirobha ekuthiyeni abantwana. – Parents in Bhofolo, where I was born, really cheated us when it came to naming children. They would just throw names together without thinking. A name can get you far in life. With a good name, you can go even further. Many of my childhood friends disowned their nicknames when they grew up. They demanded to be known by the names in their ID books.

I was lucky to get the name Mputumi from my grandfather. I recall in my neighbourhood were ladies like Nomhontso; Pinkisi, my sister; the late Nomanyhwebenyhu; sister to Nomalhese, Hanana.

But, classics, imasterpieces, were boys’ names. Just hear: Qekwana, cousin to Mpukwana, the older brother of Snutu and Stekana. Yho, Rhabaxana, Maqwili, Vondoyi, Tsetse, Nopliplipli, Notsukumetse, Mazantsana, Ngiphi, Khalakanqosi and Maxuku! There was Bhut’ Wende’s family with Star Bonza and their sons were Xolani, Noqhwi­tsinini, Jubhulu, Mpuku and Ngada. At the back was the family of Bhut’ Bhevana and Mphakamisi.

Not far from our house, kwaGontsi, was my close friend and classmate Cingo’s home and that of Bhut’ Nogwaja, a great rugby player who starred with Ntsholweni, Naderi, Cipoti, Nke­nke, Makade, Dlekhwina and Madwans.

Sis’ Nomanzithinzithi held high the spirit of true township entrepreneurship in my neighbourhood, selling the best ginger beer. Pastor Magalela and Tat’ Gavi owned shops that competed with others like Sxikixiki, Ntlonyana, Srhetshe, Qeqe, Maneli, Phuthumani and Mazembe.

My relatives who lived on the surrounding farms had great but strange names: Nokineri, Nothonqo, Mbishe, Bhekreza, Dabawo Nonjini, Magundu, Parafini, Qokobhe, Manqatha, Makhulu Nomga­gase, Nomayephuyephu, Nontelezi, Ngqendeva, Dikidane, Rhabane, Nanqotho, Rhuza, Gqam, Sinyewunyewu, Nontshaba. I loved them all. There was also Nontakumbana owayaengumlumkazi – a white girl – and Katana and Kati, my uncle’s twins.

I grew up among these people, sharing the same values. Their language was my language, and their names depicted the kind of place we came from – Bhofolo. It was not far from Komani, formerly Queenstown.

Bhofolo is my home. We affectionately call it MaBhofie. Another name is Fourteen. Fourteen because it is the fourteenth station from Port Elizabeth. A station with its own sound. The sound of rushing footsteps. When I was growing up, travelling by train was just about the only reliable and safe mode of public transport. Bhofolo was far from the developing city of Port Elizabeth and very far from the bright lights and city life of Johannesburg. But even those in Jozi probably knew about my small place, ‘indawo yama­geza’ – ‘a place of mad people!’

This description also occurs in the late Zim Ngqawana’s song, ‘eBhofolo’. A line goes: ‘Kukude eBhofolo indawo yamageza’ – ‘Bhofolo is far, a place of mad people.’ Actually, he was singing about the mental health hospital for which Bhofolo is known: Tower Psychiatric Hospital. But in the streets you did not see mad people. Maybe a few crazy ones, especially after they’d had a few drinks.

One of the things about Bhofolo was that it had a number of big hospitals: the Winterberg Santa Centre Hospital for tuberculosis patients being one of them. It was there where my mother, whom I referred to as uSisi or Oulady, worked as a nurse. Part of the reason for these hospitals was the link with Fort Hare University in nearby Alice. Staff and students, especially health sciences students from the university, used Bhofolo as an external residence.

These days every time I walk past the Fort Beaufort Hospital – formerly the General Provincial Hospital – in Bhofolo, I am reminded of Mama’s stories about my birth. About how I voiced my entrance into this world.

* * *

Let me go back to the beginning. I was born on 5 August 1964 at the end of a gruellingly cold winter. Temperatures had dropped below 10°C – as they do most winters – and there was snow on the mountains of Nkonkobe. In summer, of course, there are heatwaves with temperatures soaring to 38°C?

I am the third child. My older siblings are my sister Ntombentsha Mafani, known as Ntshantsha, and my brother known as Doctor Mafani, someone who once dreamt of being a medical doctor.

Once my mother and I left the hospital where I was born, we lived in my grandfather Mlungwana’s house in the township, kwa­Dudu (formerly Dorrington). My grandfather had inherited indlu kaNdabangaye eselokishini – Ndabangaye’s house. To me this has always been significant. Ndabangaye was of the Bawana family, emaTshaweni – his clan name. His mother was from the aMacirha clan. He kept his mother’s surname, our surname, Mafani, and his father’s clan name, Tshawe. He built his huge family a house in a small, semi-rural village called Drayini.

Ndabangaye was a man with an incomparable entrepreneurial spirit. He aspired to rise above his circumstances. In fact, he was the first black man to buy and own a motor vehicle in the area, a maroon Dodge bakkie.

Ndabangaye had eleven sons. The irony of ironies was that although I grew up away from my biological father, I never felt any emptiness from his absence. The Mafani family was, and is still, rich with father figures, role models and inspiring achievers, from my string of grandfathers to well-groomed uncles. From each I learnt a valuable life lesson.

Almost all my grandfathers had little Western education. They had a different kind of education, ingqondo nolwazi lwemveli – naturally or traditionally smart – and were entrepreneurial with a great sense of family pride. For this reason, much was expected of a child coming from the Mafani family. And it meant that we were easily recognised.

Culturally, the birth of a boy means a lot to the Xhosa. And by all accounts I came into the world and wouldn’t stop crying. I’ve used my voice ever since.

My biological father did not experience the excitement of my birth. He was not there. A declaration was made by my proud grandfather, Mlungwana, the first-born of ubawo Ndabangaye: ‘Lo mntana uba phuthume bonke abantakwethu noodade bam’ – ‘This child has fetched all my brothers and sisters. His name is Mputumi.’ And that was how I got my name. His reference to my fetching my brothers and sisters was because all my grand-aunts and grand-uncles had returned home from their places of work in Port Elizabeth and East London to celebrate my birth.

I need to tell you about the families that shaped my early years. It is important to know these things before I begin the story of my schooling, my career and my life.

Throughout my youth I enjoyed the benefits of a wide and extended family. I enjoyed walking eight kilometres to Nxukhwebe to my mother’s new house and family, kwaMahlanyana, amaZizi amahle. This was a warm and welcoming family with modest values and deep roots in African traditions.

My mother and Tat’ uMbuyiselo Phillip Mahlanyana were blessed with two boys and two girls: Ntombebhongo, Mncedisi, Luntu and Siyambongela.

My stepfather, Dlamini as we called him, was a loving man. I refer to him as stepfather for the benefit of my non-African readers, yet he loved me like no one else among my blood relatives. To me Dlamini was my father and I loved him dearly and boasted about him even when I was at Radio Ciskei. Thanks to him my passion for agriculture grew stronger, and his knowledge of African medicine and herbs was unparalleled.

He was employed by the Ciskeian government as a game ranger and during this time developed a knowledge of natural herbs. Every time someone complained of flu, a headache or an unsettled tummy, he would know which herb to apply. Even if you cut your foot, he would be able to treat it. His love for me was such that he would slaughter a sheep whenever I had been away and returned to the family home. In him I found a father and learnt the tricks of balancing the life of a rural boy with those of a boy from the townships.

What also made my family life in Fort Beaufort warm were the great times I spent over weekends with the rest of my maternal grandfather’s family in Gontsi township, kwa tat’