Derby day. Scary day…

On 30 January 2016 I woke up feeling tired. We had worked late, preparing for Derby the next day. The landline rang early, waking us up and I couldn’t get back to sleep.

The morning of Derby is filled with umpteen phone calls and messages from staff. It’s always a rush to get to the stadium, no matter how early we intend to leave. F drives and I collate the required whatsapp groups – one for staff working on the upper level and another for the lower level. Organising 60 – 90 staff for each Derby is no small task and I’m always in awe at how well F does it. That morning was no different.

By 09h30 we were on our way to the stadium, it was already boiling hot and I just didn’t have the energy for the day ahead. However, as we started walking towards the gate to meet the staff, I felt the usual thrill of the day fill me and my energy levels picked up.

I love working at this event – which is kind of crazy because it’s a manic day filled with all sorts of problems to solve – incorrectly dressed staff / late staff / too many or too few staff. Suites allocated to us that we didn’t know about. Not enough plastic cups, no salt cellars, missing barmen from other suppliers – if you can think it, it will happen. It’s loud…vuvuzela loud. It’s thousands of people pumped up to watch their favourite team (whether it be Pirates or Chiefs) win. It’s 9 hours of running and I always wish I had some kind of step counter because as you get to one suite to sort out a problem, someone from another suite calls and that suite is always on the other end of the stadium. The day ends with crazy drunk people refusing to leave their suite because they just don’t want to go. They order 10 drinks when last rounds are called and really do think we’re going to allow them to sit past closing time, and continue to drink. And I love it (the day, not the drinking)!

6 hours into Derby on this particular day I received the phone call that changed my life forever. Thank goodness I cannot recall which suite I was in at the time. The hostess I was working with helped me to contact Francis – and we ran, my heart filled with fear, my head shouting to not let it be. I didn't really know what had happened. I certainly didn't expect to never see my baby girl again.

We ran towards a life that is pain and fear and hope and grief. I ran from the person I was towards someone who I'm trying to find.

I have avoided Derby day since then. I just have not been able to go back to that stadium. I drive past it twice a day, 4 days a week, to and from work.

Today is the day. It’s Soweto Derby day and I’m working. I’m anxious, I’m tearful, I’m scared and I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing. But I have to go back, I can't avoid it forever. Tomorrow it will be 9 months and Derby day is always at the end of the month, so I reckon it’s time.

I have some staff working today who are quite special to me – I’ve never met them but they’re from a special place and I’m looking forward to working with them, hoping to goodness they don’t let me down. They have no idea how much they are helping me, how much I am clinging to the fact that they’re going to be there. They will be my focus for today.

I am so dam scared to walk into that stadium but I know my baby girl will be with me – and my man will be beside me. And the knowledge that Ella's daddy is brave enough to continue to live where he does will inspire this mommy.

Right now…I’m going for a run, to calm some of these crazy nerves!