Any genuine respectable Klops or Malay Choir ou will tell you that it’s not just about winning or losing but about standing shoulder to shoulder in the klopskamer, matching each other stride for stride with the marching and about being there for each other outside the competitions.
Those two hours of practice have built bonds between friends, given life to new families and have even been the reason why some ouens today have jobs which helps to sustain their families.
Klops and Malay Choirs were never just about the competition and this becomes even more evident when a member is in hospital or passes on.
The prayers for that person come from far and wide, and even the biggest of rivals at the stadiums visit each other in times of sickness or when there’s a janaazah.
Most of us who fill up these klopskamers come from humble beginnings and usually have no background with regards to reading music.
I could never understand why a guy would stand from the middle of the year to next year February in a klopskamer, being scolded by the coach or the troupe owner.
But they stand and keep standing long after the disagreement is past.
Today I understand why – it’s the sense of belonging, the sense of family and brotherhood which makes them kap vas, which makes them persist and strive for the best of their team. It’s the many years of standing shoulder to shoulder that makes the Kaapse Klopse and Malay Choir fraternities the biggest socially uplifting cultural mechanism in the Cape.
I myself have coached and sung for many teams over the years – from the financially stable ones who are referred to as “die manne met die geld”, to the teams who barely get by.
I’ve learnt that there are no difference between these troupes – at the end of the day, all that matters is the discipline and respect displayed in the klopskamer, where simple words, like “Mr. Coach, sing gou weer daai lyntjie vir ons, kanallah”, is the order of the day.
If our government wants to know how to tackle the high crime rate on the Flats or how to reach the people at ground level who voted them into power, I suggest they go and grab a page from the Klopse and Malay Choir handbook of brotherhood, or as we like to call it, “die broederbond”.
This broederbond was once again on display at the weekend the fraternities lost two iconic members – Boeta Faried Moses of the Shoprite Jonge Studente and moppie legend Moegamat Meniers.
Messages of condolences poured in on social media as Cape Town mourned.
When people ask me one day, ‘Mr Piekaan, why did you play Klops and joined the Malay Choirs’, I will look at them and say: “it was not for the first prizes, nor the fame or glory. I played it for the broederbond.”