HARARE – Highlights of the World Cup and other sporting events will be shown on wide-screen televisions in Ruwa, on the outskirts of Zimbabwe’s capital, Harare. But all eyes are on the pool table… and the money.
Among them is 18-year-old Levite Chisakarire.
“I have to take the money home with me…there’s a lot of money today,” he said, holding a pool racquet and waiting for his next opponent.
At stake is a first prize of $150, a princely sum in a country where the majority, according to official government figures, earn just over $100 a month and about half of its 15 million people live in extreme poverty, according to the World Food Program lives.
“It can go a long way to paying the bills,” said boyish Chisakarire, the youngest player vying for the daily prize.
Once a minority sport played in the more affluent areas of Zimbabwe, billiards has grown in popularity over the years, first as a pastime and now as a method of survival for many in a country where full-time jobs are very hard to come by.
Chisakarire was unable to continue his education after graduating from high school with poor grades in 2019 and has struggled to find a job in Zimbabwe’s strained industries. The outbreak of COVID-19 meant his father, a truck driver, lost his regular job. So Chisakarire started hanging out at an illegal tavern where patrons dodged the police or bribed them to overlook pandemic restrictions so they could drink beer and play pool.
His hobby turned into a skill and he showed a talent for putting the round balls in the pockets. It soon helped solve his financial problems as he started betting and winning on his games. These days he makes about $300 in a good month playing billiards, he says.
He’s not the only one. The majority of Zimbabweans make a living from informal activities, which include selling tomatoes at street stalls and playing billiards, according to an October employment survey by the country’s statistics office. Around half of young people between the ages of 15 and 34 are unemployed and not taking part in school or vocational training.
Some, like Chisakarire, make a living playing pool tables.
“Billiards became popular as a form of entertainment in bars, but it is now proving more popular than football in many places,” said Michael Kariati, a veteran Zimbabwean sportswriter for over 30 years. “It has become a highly competitive sport where people place bets and survive from them.”
In Harare alone, the number of professional players has quadrupled to about 800 in the past five years, according to Keith Goto, spokesman for the Harare Professional Pool Association.
“Then there are the cash games, which have grown exponentially. You can find pool tables all over the townships,” he said. “It offers a form of employment and is paid for by betting.”
Others warn that betting is a dangerous habit that can have disastrous effects on families. But with so many people out of work and Zimbabwe’s economic prospects so bleak, many people are trying desperately to make money from a cue.
Makeshift poolside arcades thrive in bars, shop front porches, and just about any open space. Some enterprising residents have pool tables in their homes where they charge people 50 cents to gamble and place bets, which violates city laws that require such businesses to be properly licensed. The tables are often worn and rickety, but people don’t seem to care.
In Warren Park, a Harare community, people ignored the country’s biggest local soccer derby at the country’s largest stadium nearby to gather around pool tables where the money was quickly changing hands.
For quick money, betting resorts to sophisticated means. Instead of playing the entire 8-ball game, some bet on the position of the black eights after the first shot of the game, also called the break. Others bet on the best of three balls. An experienced player offered to play only one hand because people were hesitant to bet against him.
Authorities sometimes conduct so-called clean-ups to confiscate billiard tables scattered around. Often, enforcers of city bylaws are simply paid a $2 bribe to look the other way. Most gamblers in low-income townships place dollar bets on games where they can win $3 or $4.
In Ruwa, the competition is better organized and the stakes are higher. Each club member paid $10 as an entry fee, which went towards the prize money. On a recent day, 31 players paid to participate. Dozens more watched, cheered and bet on their favorite players.
“Imagine taking home $150! That’s more than many workers get in a month,” said Goto, spokesman. “Billiards should now move like other sports from pubs to schools and community halls, eventually it has become mainstream.”
For Chisakarire, the 18-year-old, billiards has become more than a game. He dreams of bigger things from gambling and betting in backyard bars.
“It changed my life,” he said before potting his next ball to win the tournament and pocket $150. “I can imagine playing in Europe one day.”
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