Dear Kirsty Coventry

Years back I heard of you. They said you're a very special swimmer, the queen of waters. It sounded very special to me, a swimmer too, albeit an amateur one. My swimming was out of necessity. With no special skills, no special clothing, no googles; my swimming was for two reasons. To cool my body in the scorching summer sun or to cross the river to and from school or shops. It was very special in its own way. Holding clothes in one hand and splitting the waters with another, gulping the muddy waters a couple of times before finally crossing with reddened eyes and a shaking body. Fighting drowning, fighting germs unconsciously, fighting logs, fighting aquatic species - from ordinary fish to dangerous snakes. That's all I knew about swimming.

I didn't know about the Olympics until when you entered the scene in 2004. That was a magic moment for me. A moment of enlightenment and sentimentality. I didn't know swimming was a lot more fun than what I had been exposed to. I didn't know swimmers were a lot more cooler. We didn't have a television then but as you know, news travels fast. Soon we got the wind of your exploits and accolades in Athens. You conquered in the 200m backstroke, your declared personal favourite event. In 100m backstroke and 200m medley, you got silver and bronze respectively. That summed up your medals collection in Greece and engraved your name not only in history books but also in our hearts. Prior to your grand entry into the Olympics competitions and your subsequent stellar performances, I'm told the only Olympics medal that we identified with, as a country, was won by the women's national field hockey team in 1980 in Moscow. They, just like you, surprised the world. They had underdog tags hanging on their necks as they entered - representing a then few months old Zimbabwe - but they exited with gold medals dangling proudly. What a beautiful moment! A moment that will last forever. I didn't witness it but I live in it, reminiscing it!

Everywhere you have gone, you have conquered and further confirmed that indeed you are the queen of waters. In Beijing, in Melbourne, in Algiers, in Rome, in Maputo, in Manchester, in Brazzaville, in Montreal your skills were real. We were awed as you mesmerised your opponents. Though you couldn't hear it, we were beating drums and tins out of excitement. I am sure you felt it. We held our breaths in anticipation just before the 'go' and we would burst into deafening cheers at the end. Then you will be at the finishing point, trying to believe your achievements. I saw one of the photos in an old newspaper which I neatly cut and pasted in one of my notebooks and scribbled - captioned it -, 'Dream. Believe. Achieve' on top. Because I needed the motivation to dream, reasons to believe and determination to achieve. You provided all that. I was in a place devoid of motivation, a place where only your screams will be echoed back when you're screaming for help. You look up and see the roof. You look around and you don't see beyond the mountains. You look at the river, and you don't think of medley or backstroke. I dared to dream because you motivated me to dream. You motivated footballers, musicians, scholars, authors, vendors, farmers, the young and the old... You inspired them all to dream big because dreams come true. You motivated the nation to take sports seriously and parents to support their kids' sporting abilities and desires.

Twelve years and seven medals later, you're back at the Olympics again. You are back to where it all started, a little older but still with the dedication and the energy. You haven't lost the strength and the zeal to achieve even more. That's amazing considering the years you have spent participating and winning in competitive events. Unfortunately, as nature is taking its toll, you didn't win any medal in the 100 m backstroke in Rio. But you have stormed into the finals of your 'favourite event', the 200 m backstroke. We are watching and still holding our breath in anticipation. You taught us that everything is possible. And so, we believe. We wish you the very best and hope you'll add at least one more medal to your already glittering medals basket. We are dreaming. In ponds, in murky and dirty rivers, in dams and streams, in established swimming pools, in the dusty streets, in the pavements, in the corridors, in the skyscrapers, in mud classrooms, in hospitals, in the studios, in the ghettos, in the banking halls, in the fields and farms, everywhere! The young and the old, we all look up to you! And we all say, #ThankYouKirsty. Whatever happens in Brazil, we shall always say, #ThankYouKirsty.

From Me, Phenias F. Sadondo

PS. Do you think it's too late for me to revive myself taught swimming antics? I only used them for survival not for medals though.

(Written on August 14th, 2016 during the Rio Olympics and was featured here Coventry, Africa's Most Decorated Olympian)...