Omar Kasongo: Boxing whizz kid’s dreams were floored by a computer

Omar Ahmed Kasongo [Courtesy]

The man, clad in a red Kenya sporting shirt, leapt towards Nigerian-Canadian David Defiagbon. It was round one, 1996, Atlanta, Georgia, United States, Olympic heavyweight boxing quarter finals.

Omar Ahmed Kasongo, Kenya, Commonwealth and Africa champ, ranked fifth best amateur boxer in the world, was expected to steamroll over Defiagbon for a mouthwatering semifinal clash with ageing Cuban boxing legend and twice Olympic champion, Felix Savon.

If he walloped Savon – and boxing pundits believed he was the only contender at the time with the pedigree to fell a giant – the Olympic heavyweight boxing gold medal, and the fame and dizzying wealth of professional boxing, would be his for the taking. 

“Kasongo was big and swift and he had great speed-work. His style of boxing reminded me of Muhammad Ali,” childhood friend and fellow Hit Squad pugilist Daniel Otieno alias Tyson told The Nairobian.

But the stars were not aligned right and Kasongo’s incredible match to greatness was halted, cruelly. To date, Kasongo still believes he was robbed of victory, his opportunity to turn professional dashed.

“I knew I was to meet Savon in the semifinals and proceed to the throne, but my fight against David Defiagbon ruined the party. I feel that I won that bout; that something was played against me. David was taller, but I cornered him in all fronts. I know I beat him squarely in all the three rounds, but…”

Kasongo's dreams were floored by a computer [Courtesy]

The judges, unfortunately, didn’t share that view.

“You know, these guys introduced computerised scoring, something our local coaches, including Peter Mwarangu and the late Charles Anjimbi, knew nothing about. I strongly believe that’s where I was robbed.”

We are sitting in his one-bed, mud-walled house in Nairobi’s sprawling Kibera slum, where it all began. To get here, you meander past countless houses and manoeuvre your way through dark corridors and pathways that crisscross the settlement.

From outside, the house looks like a collapsing nest, set around scattered plastic buckets and tree leaves. It’s a basic abode with a sad, haunting look – a table, seat, Great Wall TV, and medals from his fighting days. But it provides comfort for Kasongo, his wife Fatuma Ajeeb and their six children.

Two gloves hang, dangling from the rooftop, a limp reminder of the days when the lion roared.  There are no scars on his handsome, middle-aged face, but the ravages of time, penury and the dark hue of unfulfilled hope show. It should never have ended like this, for here is a man the gods had anointed for greatness while he was barely in his teens.

His story began in the 90s, when the Hit Squad, Kenya’s fabled national boxing team, hit a slump. The flamboyant pugilists of yesterday seemed to have faded away, and a boxing-mad nation addicted to the finesse of boxing legends Philip Waruinge and Ibrahim Bilali and the raw power of James Demosh Omondi, badly needed a new hero.

And then from the muddy pathways of Kibera’s Laini Saba emerged Omar Ahmed ‘Kasongo’. Tall and light-skinned, he had the boyish, fresh-faced aura of a sweet middle-class high school kid. Except, Kasongo, barely 16, was, at least in the ring, no sweet kid. He was hitting everything in sight with speed, power and intellect.

Born Omar Ahmed Rajab on December 29, 1970 in a family of three boys and three girls, he never started out as a boxer. His first love was football, which he played alongside elder brother Said Ahmed in a ‘family’ football team named Blue Stars FC that comprised cousins, brothers and uncles. At the time, Kasongo was a Class Seven pupil at Toi Primary School. They would converge at Woodley grounds in the evenings after school and kick about for fun.

 “Orchestra Super Mazembe’s Kasongo Wa Kanema was a big name in music at the time, and I was a great fan. I loved his ‘Mobali Nangai’ song, which had ‘Kasongo’ in the chorus. I sang it every time, so guys just gave me the name and it stuck!” he recalls

When he was about 12, the boxing bug bit, inspired by the spurring and sweating at Woodley Social Hall, a stone-throw from their Kibera home. His uncle Hussein Ahmed, who was also an amateur boxer, and the late coach Elias Gabirari, played a major role in luring him into the sport. By his 13th birthday, Kasongo had fallen in love with boxing, a love buoyed by countrywide trips while still a primary school kid. How his schoolmates envied him!

“Uncle yangu alikuwa ananichukua after games za ball jioni tuna-train na yeye boxing hapo Woodley Social Hall. Halafu coach wa mtaa Gabirari (Elias) aliona nawezacheza boxing, so alikuwa ana-organise special contests nacheza. Hivo ndo nilionenekana nikajoin national league ya boxing na nikaanza career,” he explained.

In no time, he was a regular face in the national boxing league, beating local competitors left, right and centre. In fact, he only lost once on Kenyan soil - to the late Robert Napunyi Wangila, Kenya’s only Olympic boxing gold champion.

Kasongo recalls his first overseas trip to New Zealand with nostalgia, the boyish excitement of the time still evident.

 “I travelled abroad for the first time in 1990. It was my first time to fly, so there was a lot of excitement, but I’m happy because I managed to reach the quarter-finals,” said Kasongo. At that time, the 20-year-old was a middleweight fighter.

Four years later, the son of Ahmed was all grown, a big hunk of a man fighting in the heavyweight division at the 1994 Commonwealth Games in Victoria, British Columbia. He swatted all opponents out of the way in the preliminary stages for a final face-off with Canadian Steve Gallinger, whom he zapped.

Kasongo was on fire and Kenyan boxing fans were ecstatic. They could sniff a world-class pugilist in the exciting heavyweight division. More accolades followed in 1995 with an All-Africa Games heavyweight boxing gold medal from Harare, Zimbabwe.

A month later, he was voted the Orbitsports Sportsman of the Month by a panel of journalists from both the print and electronic media, the second time he won the award in that year.

The grand match to greatness was on. The target was Olympic gold, with only the great Cuban boxer, Felix Savon, standing in his path.

Or so he thought. The Olympics came, and he fell and crushed in the preliminaries, thanks to the computerised scoring system, which he couldn’t fathom. And what’s worse, he lost to a fighter with a forgettable name.

And just like that, the flight from Kibera to the heavens lay dead in the water.

 “I badly wanted to turn professional, so I moved to Denmark and played semi-professional for six months. I then moved to Canada and tried to acquire a Canadian citizenship, but the paperwork delayed until my coach advised that it was wise to become a coach instead,” he explained to The Nairobian.

But what was reported in the media IN 1997 was that the country’s Amateur Boxing Association (ABA) never approved Kasongo’s request to turn pro in Canada. That Kasongo had travelled to Canada without the much-needed letter from ABA as was required by the International Amateur Boxing Association (AIBA).

Kasongo is not bitter. Far from it. In 2013, he returned to Kenya and started the Omar Kasongo Sports Academy (OKSA) in 2014, with the intention of nurturing talents and keeping young people from the ghetto, off drugs and away from crime.

So far, he has about 30 pugilists registered under the academy, two of whom are now KDF officers. He has also mentored and coached the World Boxing Council (WBC) World Super Bantamweight champion Zarika Fatuma. His dream is to nurture young pugilists to surpass his achievements and rise to world beaters.

 “I like how Nick Okoth, Shaffi Bakari and Denzel Onyango fight. These are the country’s future great pugilists. They play just like me,” the old fighter says with a wistful grin. But outside boxing, it is like Kenya’s greatest heavyweight boxer of his generation never existed. There are no videos of his fights on the net, no photographs. Nothing.