How Harambee Stars lost Cape Verde match up in cruel skies

Harambee Stars players and some o_ cials aboard the chartered plane from Cape Verde where they played their Fifa 2018 World Cup qualifying return leg match. [PHOTO: STAFFORD ONDEGO/WWW.SPORTPICHA.COM]

NAIROBI: A ten-hour ordeal at Wilson Airport ended with a reluctant shaking of hands between Sports Cabinet Secretary Hassan Wario and Harambee Stars captain Victor Wanyama.

It was time for the team, and accompanying journalists, to take to the skies and make up for lost time.

Behind the scenes, civil aviation authorities had reportedly agreed to bend the rules. The national football team’s flight is said to have been classified as “an emergency take-off” because Wilson Airport must shut down by 8:30pm.

The alternative would have been for the plane to head for Jomo Kenyatta International Airport and await further instructions. But this was a desperate situation.

At 8:43pm, the Bombardier Dash 8 operated by Skyward Express Ltd took off into the Nairobi night sky headed for Entebbe Airport for the first of its three stops before landing in Santiago Island, Cape Verde.

FRENZIED DEBATE

Aboard the plane, there was evident unease. The footballers had been frightened by the frenzied social media debate casting aspersions on the ability of the small plane to cover the 6,870km to Cape Verde and back.

Ben Agunda, an avid football fan, posted on Facebook: “Hii ni kuharibu pesa ya raia. Hata mimi naweza afford hii toy. Patia boys Boeing 747. (This is a waste of public resources. Provide a Boeing 747.)”

Isaac Mugunda said: “Was so surprised. Hii haiezi fika Cape Verde. This is a D8... The furthest it can go is Mombasa.”

And former Kenya goalkeeper Duncan Ochieng wrote: “Ndege ya kupeleka watu Masai Mara itafika Cape Verde? (This plane is meant for trips to the Masai Mara, not Cape Verde.)”

Wanyama, who had reluctantly shaken hands with the Cabinet Secretary, was the last of the players to board the plane.

And, as he walked along the aisle to take his seat, all our eyes were fixed on him, perhaps in search of slightest hint of resistance. But he looked calm, and the players must have taken this as a cue that all was well.

The one-and-a-half hour flight to Entebbe Airport was smooth, but devoid of banter.

Goalkeeping coach, and Kenya’s star goalkeeper of the 1990s, Matthew Ottamax, had expressed reservations about the safety of the plane just an hour before takeoff.

“You know, Toskin, with this kind of arrangement, I can’t stop thinking about the Zambian team that perished in Gabon. A friend of mine in the aviation industry is not so sure about this plane given the distance we are to cover to Cape Verde,” Ottamax confided.

On April 27, 1993, 25 members of the Zambian national team en route to Dakar, Senegal, and finally to Morocco for the 1994 World Cup qualifier, perished on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean off Gabon when their military plane, a de Havilland Canada DHC-5D Buffalo, went down.

Ottamax’s concern was grim, but understandable.

After 45 minutes in Entebbe, and with the Bombardier refuelled, Harambee Stars were back in the sky, heading to Kano, Nigeria, for another stopover.

The toughest test for Ottamax’s nerves, indeed for all of us on board, would be flying over the dense tropical forest of the Democratic Republic of Congo.

But before we approached this hurdle, it was time for something to eat. Flight purser Ray Kombo passed around a tray of biscuits like an Igbo man passing kola, with 250ml packets of juice to wash the bite down.

And then, true to form, Congo Forest did present a challenge. The pilot’s voice first came through informing the passengers of a mild storm over the dense woodland. Captain Feisal Mughal’s reassuring voice helped to calm nerves as turbulence hit the much-maligned Bombardier Dash 8.

Nevertheless, Ottamax and the rest of the squad all sat up, worried. Luckily, the turbulence did not last long.

“How far are we from Kano?” Ottamax inquired from the flight purser as the players burst into suppressed laughter.

BISCUITS AND JUICE

This question could have best been answered by Capt Mughal, Aziz Didarali and Mohamed Mohamed, but they were in the cabin.

It had been about ten hours since the players had lunch. They were beginning to yawn. They needed a substantial meal. Not biscuits, juice and water, they insisted.

The flight purser heeded their plea. But when he brought out ‘something’, it was only sandwiches (fish, chicken and egg) and more juice. It was the best Skyward Express had made arrangements for. The rest was up to a clueless Football Kenya Federation. The boys were running on empty.

But there was another problem: The in-flight toilet was filling up fast. The pungent smell was becoming unbearable.

The flight purser did his best to spray it with some perfume as they crew apologised for the inconvenience, assuring the passengers the problem would be resolved in Kano.

Choosing to use the facility or wait until we landed were both agonising choices. When the plane landed safely and smoothly in Nigeria, everyone on board burst into applause. Then the passengers dashed out in search of the restrooms.

Afterwards, there was another agonising hour of trying to fix the problem as it emerged the airport lacked a gadget to enable the honey sucker do its job. The work had to be done manually.

Between Kano and Dakar, the players’ confidence seemed to rise as they neared their final destination. But by the time, we got to Cape Verde, fatigue was noticeable on the faces of the players, who duly lost 2-1 on aggregate.

Afterwards, President Uhuru Kenyatta’s tweet and subsequent phone call to Billy Arocho, who then arranged to have him talk to coach Bobby Williamson, Musa Otieno and vice-captain David Owino “Calabar” at the Nelson Mandela Airport, Praia, made the return trip bearable.

Never mind that the lunch bought at the team’s hotel, VIP Praia, was conveniently ‘forgotten’ at the hotel. Another round of biscuits and juice sufficed all the way from Praia to Bamako (Mali), N’djamena (Chad) and finally Nairobi.