JUST as the legendary Pied Piper of Hamelin hit the right notes and moved crowds, a Comrades Marathon “bus driver” has repeatedly used her own brand of charisma to cajole athletes over the finish line before the dreaded 12-hour cut-off gun is fired.
Shahieda Thungo, 48, from Soweto, has completed seven Comradess, six of those as the driver of the 12-hour “bus” comprising hundreds of knackered runners hobbling along to beat the deadline.
In athletics, a “bus” is a group of runners banding together with purpose, and 12 hours is the maximum amount of time to complete the Comrades Marathon.
The grit and determination to bounce back after the death of her husband Jeffrey in July 2011, and being diagnosed with cancer days later ‒ both of which sent her into deep depression ‒ made Thungo’s running achievements outstanding.
She was able to put those dark days behind her and is now widely regarded as a source of inspiration, especially to the stragglers, in the races she runs.
Her champion qualities were recognised last Friday at the Comrades Marathon Association’s annual Government Employee Medical Scheme (GEMS) “Spirit of Comrades” awards gala in Durban.
She was among individuals who not only achieved as athletes, but also embodied values like selflessness, dedication, courage and ubuntu.
They each received a one-ounce 24-carat pure gold medallion.
“I’m still in shock, I didn’t expect it. This means the little I’ve contributed to help others was recognised,” she said this week.
Thungo never had ambitions of running in the Comrades, believing “that thing was too long”.
Now she says “there is no other race like it in the world, encapsulating what life is about, bringing all of us together in the spirit of ubuntu”.
Jeffrey’s death sent her world into freefall.
Thungo was in hospital having a biopsy. Two weeks after Jeffrey’s funeral, the results showed she had cancer.
“This was a huge blow because I had my 7-year-old daughter (Mkazimulo Najmunisaa) to raise and being a cancer patient, I believed it was a one-way ticket for me ‒ death.”
Thungo slid into a depressive state.
“I broke down once while paying for groceries. I never had to do that while my husband was alive.”
Overwhelmed, Thungo attempted to take her life on three occasions.
“I laugh when I think back about not getting it right each time I attempted to slit my wrists. That made me realise there was more to my life. On the third attempt, I think my ancestors said ‘stay where you are’. I laughed.”
Thungo’s daughter heard her and said: “What a beautiful laugh, mom.”
It hit home that Mkazimulo would be without a mother and Thungo decided to turn her life around in 2013.
Her chemotherapy treatment was completed while she was in the grip of depression. Thungo’s doctor suggested a course of antidepressants.
“I refused. I told the doctor to give me a year to try on my own.”
Thungo had gained a lot of weight, fitting into size 38 clothing. She used walking as a form of exercise, before training at a gym, just as she and Jeffery did. Exercise helped her feel “lighter”.
Soon she was jogging and running in races.
“My first 10km run at Zoo Lake in September 2014 hammered me properly, but was a treasured memory and the medal represents my official step out of the doom and gloom that gripped me for three years.”
With time she increased her running distances.
She wore the wrong gear for a Two Oceans Marathon qualifying race in Benoni (February 2015), struggling physically and running alone.
That’s when she made a pact with God, stating that if she was helped with finishing the race she would in future never allow a runner, while she ran, to suffer alone.
During her marathon run in Eldorado Park (February 2015) her bus driving abilities were “born”.
“Other runners, many guys, joined me and when I chanted, they chanted.”
Ever since, runners have been drawn to her at races.
“I think I’m a bit crazy with my warped sense of humour ‒ I speak a lot and we sing. I start with a prayer and embrace all religions.
“I also advocate for politeness and I pair runners together so they look after each other along the way. During races I’m known as ‘Makhelwane’, meaning ‘neighbour’ in the Nguni languages.
“Anyone who cusses or is rude gets kicked off my bus because that brings down morale and we don’t want negative energy.”
Thungo is a part of the “pace setters” group, where they profile and plan tactics before races, especially the big runs.
“We don’t run aimlessly, there is a science to it.”
Thungo always maintained she would run the Comrades if she had a reason to.
When her mom Rakiba died in 2016, it gave her a reason. She ran in memory of Jeffrey and Rakiba and was joined by her friend Keitumetsi (Cat) Matsike, whose father had died.
“At the start, we were full of tears and finished minutes before the cut-off time.
“In the next Comrades, I decided to drive the 12-hour bus and have done so successfully ever since. I don’t think the race had had a woman driver.”
Thungo takes her responsibilities seriously.
“Clubs encourage their runners to follow me if they want to get home successfully.
“I only run slow, but with targets in mind. I try to make the run look as effortless as possible. They trust me, a slow runner, a woman of colour. It’s a huge responsibility.”
She never turns back in a Comrades run.
“I get overwhelmed when I look at the number of people relying on me to get them to the finish.”
She did, however, always have a co-driver, well versed on what to do, in case she had to drop off.
In this year's race she began with eight runners trailing her: it grew appreciably from the halfway mark with more than 100 at the end.
“No two Comrades experience is the same. I have such gratitude each time I finish. It means I’m alive and well and the faith and trust people showed in me paid off.
“At the end there’s lots of tears, stinky and sweaty hugs, snotty tears, But it is genuine. Grown men hug me and say ‘you carried me’.”
Thungo’s proud daughter pins little notes on her tights ahead of the race.
“I read them for inspiration along the way, some say ‘remember whose mom you are’, ‘mommy you got this’, and ‘you’re doing this for daddy’.
“I see myself doing this for many more years.
“Running is my way to say thank you to God, I am a cancer conqueror.”
