{UAH} Seifu Makonnen: Ethiopian who enchanted Kenya’s 1970s boxing fans
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Seifu Makonnen: Ethiopian who enchanted Kenya's 1970s boxing fans
Ethiopian boxer Seifu Makonnen (left) takes on a Kenyan opponent in Nairobi in 1975. PHOTO | FILE | NATION MEDIA GROUP
Summary
- Believing that it was only a matter of time before they came for him, Makonnen got himself a passport, contacted a cousin living in Nairobi and soon embarked on a bus journey from Addis to the Kenyan capital
- But alas for Makonnen! Africa boycotted the Olympics and with that went the medal hopes of a generation of sportsmen and women, himself among them
- Only when Makonnen and company were completely sure that it was Canadian Police alone who were seeking them without assistance from the not-so-undercover Ethiopian security agents accompanying them on the trip did they surrender
When Seifu Makonnen was born in a town named Aleltu in the Ethiopian province of Shoa in 1953, it probably crossed his mother's mind that the unusually big and healthy boy might grow to become an officer in the country's Imperial Guard, a prestigious career then. An athlete? Maybe not. Ethiopia's conquest of distance running in the world was still seven years away into the future and in any case those boys came as lean as leather.
The last thing on Kenene Belachew's mind must have been that her boy would become a boxer. And it is difficult to imagine her contemplating that as a boxer in this inordinately non-boxing country, he would lead the kind of life that inspires motion picture script writers: representing Ethiopia in the Olympic Games, starring for Kenya Breweries Boxing Club in neighbouring Kenya and in the process almost becoming a Kenya citizen, attempting a road trip of thousands of kilometres to see his idol Muhammad Ali defeat George Foreman to reclaim his world heavyweight title in Kinshasa, DRC, hide in a Montreal airport toilet on his way to becoming Africa's first sports asylum seeker and too many other escapades.
The 1973 East and Central African Boxing championships were held in the Ethiopian capital, Addis Ababa. By that time, Makonnen was already a veteran of the 1972 Olympics where he had wound up in an eight-way tie for ninth place out of 28 fighters. He won the regional gold medal.
The following year, the armed forces violently overthrew Emperor Haile Selassie. They abolished the feudal state and killed thousands of real or suspected sympathizers of the monarchy and turned Ethiopia into a communist country. It was the beginning of an era badly remembered as the Red Terror. And it was also the first of two occasions that Makonnen fled his homeland.
Believing that it was only a matter of time before they came for him, Makonnen got himself a passport, contacted a cousin living in Nairobi and soon embarked on a bus journey from Addis to the Kenyan capital. He made it without incident past immigration personnel at the Moyale border town and breathed the air of freedom while nursing a bleeding heart for his homeland in turmoil.
In Nairobi, it wasn't the first time we were seeing Makonnen but it was the first that we were accepting him as a refugee. And he was more than welcome. In fact, Kenya Breweries, eager to strengthen its ranks against fearsome rivals Armed Forces, Kenya Police and Kenya Prisons, wasted no time in snapping him up. He became their new heavyweight top draw.
A well-endowed club with a sports-mad management at the very top of company, Kenya Breweries Boxing Club, now with Makonnen alongside stars such as Stephen Muchoki, Felix Maina, Isaac Maina and Muhammad Abdalla Kent, were ready to outgun their rivals in the armed services.
It was an exciting time. Boxing was synonymous with individuals who deserve a place in a Wall of Honour: Marsden Madoka, Harrison Kilonzo, Cornelius Monteiro, Mul Duffy, Capt Trevor Hill, Stanley Wachanga, Peter Mwarangu, Victor Cardozo, Charles Anjimbi etc.
I lived in the Railway Quarters enclosed by Ngara Road, Park Road and Murang'a Road. That is another way of saying that I was living in paradise right here on earth. It was a leafy suburb. For my free medical services, I had a choice between two excellent facilities: the Railway Dispensary at the entrance to the estate from Desai Road and the Nairobi City Council clinic at the entrance from Park Road. Diligent, professional staff. Spotlessly clean place: my father's taxes were obviously working for him.
Every Saturday night during the boxing season, I walked across the Nairobi River between Old Ngara Estate and the sharp hill atop which Coast Bus' city terminus stands. I would then proceed to either City Hall or Desai Memorial Hall where the competitions took place. (Desai Memorial Hall has since been demolished and in its place now stands Tusky's Supermarket, Tom Mboya Street.)
The contests ended at about 2am and I walked home through the same route. I had no worries about personal safety because those were the pre-ngeta days. (Ngeta is a stranglehold using a plank of wood concealed under a long-sleeved garment. It chokes a mugging victim into submission, sometimes with fatal consequences.)
It is at City Hall that I first saw Makonnen, first boxing for Ethiopia in international match-ups with Kenya and later as a Kenya Breweries man. I liked his ring-craft and easily understood why the Breweries people went for his signature. He was as big as heavyweights come but not too big to become clumsy. He was a lot more agile than Kenya's hitherto top heavyweight, Fred Sabat. He quickly established his name as the best in the country and in the months leading up to the 1976 Olympic Games, we started hearing stories that he would represent the country; that arrangements were being made to get him a Kenyan passport.
This was a very exciting prospect: Makonnen was going to box for Kenya! Let the Games begin!
But our hopes were misplaced and that was not necessarily a bad thing. There is something special about home, a connection so deep and so sublime that it needs no words to give it expression. Home being taken away from you by force of circumstances leads to the condition of homesickness. And it can be unbearable.
In our excitement about the exploits for us by this big, handsome man with a ready smile sheltering under his luxurious afro hair-do, we overlooked the fact that he was nursing acute homesickness. He hadn't come to us of his own free volition; he was fleeing persecution. And at the very first hint of normalcy back home, he would return. That is what Seifu Makonnen did. At the call of his country for the 1976 Olympics, he bid us goodbye. And none of us in our right minds could begrudge him that action.
But alas for Makonnen! Africa boycotted the Olympics and with that went the medal hopes of a generation of sportsmen and women, himself among them. At that time he was only 23, clearly at the height of his powers and a lot more mature than the inexperienced 19 year-old who had given such a credible account of himself four years earlier in Munich.
Disappointed but knowing he had time on his hands, he looked up to the government, known as the Derge, for a job. They asked him to train the national boxing team – a big task for a man so young. But he threw himself into it and soon he was on his way to the Soviet Union, as Russia was known then, for an advanced coaching course. The repressive Ethiopian government was on the Russian side of the Cold War. The Russians strongly advised Makonnen to continue his career as a boxer; coaching would come later.
Makonnen was hardly back on Ethiopian soil trying to map out his future than he found himself in prison. In a repressive environment such as Kenyans who lived in the single party era know all too well, a bad rumour can have you killed. Makonnen, an apolitical man who could best be described as just a simple humanitarian, a lover of people, was accused of being an opposition sympathizer. Had he been a Kenyan living in a certain era, he would have been accused of being anti-Nyayo, which could be fatal.
As in the case of one exasperated victim who asked to be shown a Nyayo-meter so that he could see its readings there was also no Derge-meter, so the word by his detractors against Makonnen was good enough to send him to prison. He spent three months there. He was eventually released without charge.
Once more, it was time to flee the beautiful homeland. Makonnen bid his time while going through the motions of coaching fellow Ethiopians. The opportunity presented itself in 1978. That year, the All-Africa Games were taking place in Algiers, Algeria. In the run-up to the Games, Cuba, a Cold War ally, granted Ethiopian boxers training facilities in Havana. Makonnen was one of the beneficiaries.
On its way to Algiers after completion of the training, the plane carrying the Ethiopians made a two-hour technical stop in Montreal, Canada. The passengers were allowed time in the terminal building. That is where Makonnen and two others made their move. When the boarding call was made, the three plotters made for a toilet and locked themselves up. Just before departure, it was discovered that three passengers could not be accounted for. The flight was ordered to remain on the ground. Only when Makonnen and company were completely sure that it was Canadian Police alone who were seeking them without assistance from the not-so-undercover Ethiopian security agents accompanying them on the trip did they surrender.
They presented a letter seeking asylum in Canada. Their luggage was retrieved from the cargo hold and the plane released. Eventually, all three were granted political asylum, becoming the first of many African sportspeople to flee their troubled homelands and seek refuge in the West. Meanwhile, in Addis Ababa, government operatives threatened Makonnen's mother and other close relatives. They ransacked his home and carted away precious memorabilia from his career.
Makonnen eventually joined his cousin in Los Angeles, USA, where he started on the long and arduous journey of rebuilding his life.
That he immersed himself so completely in the affairs of his Ethiopian community in America, including founding the Abebe Bikila Day International Peace Half Marathon, was only to be expected.
It so happened that 20 year-old Makonnen was one of about 70,000 people who attended the state funeral of Ethiopia's and Africa's first Olympic gold medalist in 1973.
PANTHEON OF GREAT ETHIOPIANS
It was led by Emperor Haile Sellasie. Bikila was one of his life's heroes; the other was Muhammad Ali.
Seifu Makonnen — here in Kenya we called him Seif — died in Los Angeles on Monday this week.
It is the fate of some great sportsmen and women to somehow miss out on life's biggest prizes, like an Olympic medal.
Makonnen was one such.
But that does not diminish his contribution, especially when you take into account his commitment to causes dearest to humanity.
For that reason, his name will find its way into the pantheon of great Ethiopians.Those of us who knew him thank him for his contribution to a beautiful era in Kenya sport.
He helped make us take a closer look at our northern neighbour and was a good guest during the time he was among us.
He is survived by his two sisters, his son Yohannes, his daughter Selamawit and a grandson.
He will be buried in Los Angeles today.
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