As someone who is completely against the purchasing of football club statuses, especially in South Africa, I must admit, this article will expose my bias.
The buying and selling of football statuses is not new in South Africa. In fact, it's been happening for decades, and unfortunately, it doesn't seem like it’s going to stop anytime soon.
Over the years, many teams have bought club statuses in pursuit of one dream: to play in the top-flight leagues. It's become so common that when it happens, no one even flinches anymore. It’s the norm now. But that doesn’t make it right.
This is something I’ve always been-and will always be strongly against. That said, I’m not blind to the reasons why some club owners feel they have no choice but to sell: financial constraints, mismanagement, and the sheer cost of running a professional football club. It's an expensive and high-pressure business.
But when a club is sold, it's not just a name that disappears. It’s a history, a legacy, a community.
We saw that heartbreakingly when Bidvest Wits, one of the oldest clubs in South African football-98 years old, rich in tradition and deeply embedded in the development of both local football and national talent - was sold after the 2019/20 season. That was a crushing loss.
Wits was just one of many. Free State Stars, Maritzburg United, Ajax Cape Town - the list goes on. All were once proud institutions, now vanished.
But for me, the one that hurt the most was Bloemfontein Celtic. When the club was sold to businesswoman Shauwn Mkhize in 2021, I was shattered. I remember immediately writing a heartfelt tribute to express my disappointment and to reflect on what the club meant-not just to the league, but to the people of Bloemfontein, the Free State, and South Africa at large.
I remember that day vividly. The skies over Bloemfontein were a dark grey, as if even nature was mourning the loss of one of the greatest football clubs in our country’s history.
It wasn’t just a football team. It was a cultural institution. It was 52 years of history, heritage, pride, and passion. Celtic was more than just a club-it was part of the identity of its supporters. A factory of talent that produced stars like Thabo Nthethe, Hlompho Kekana, Moses Spandeel, Neo Maema, Thapelo Morena, and many others who went on to shine not only in the domestic league but beyond the field.
When I heard the news, the first words out of my mouth were: "Ntate Molemela must be turning in his grave!" Petrus Molemela, the man who saved the club from financial ruin in 1980, would have been devastated to see Siwelele’s legacy wiped away like that.
Bloemfontein is a city defined by its love for the beautiful game. Its people are loyal, passionate, and unwavering in their support for the green and white. So when the club disappeared, what were they supposed to do? It was more than difficult to accept-it was a heartbreak.
Still, I held onto hope that one day, somehow, Bloem Celtic would return. I believed that the people of Bloemfontein and the Free State would rejoice again, their first love restored.
So when rumours began to circulate about the return of Celtic, I had a glimmer of hope-and I prayed it would come true.
The news was finally confirmed, and I was ecstatic. I know every Free Stater felt the same. Siwelele is back.
But-at what cost?
Because for Celtic to return, another great club had to go: SuperSport United. This means Pretoria is now down to one team - Mamelodi Sundowns. And just like Wits, SuperSport United contributed massively to the growth of South African football. Their loss is no small matter.
So yes, I have mixed emotions. I’m thrilled that football is back in my hometown. But I’m also heartbroken to see another legacy club disappear.
I can only hope that Matsatsantsa - like Siwelele - will find a way back someday. That their fans, like the faithful in Bloemfontein, will keep the faith even when the dream feels far away.
Welcome back, Siwelele! Masokolara!