Bullets down Ekhaya to keep their slim hopes of championship alive

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across Mpira Stadium as two teams with diverging destinies prepared for battle. For FCB Nyasa Big Bullets, Sunday’s encounter against Ekhaya Football Club represented more than three points—it was a lifeline thrown to drowning championship hopes. For the rookies in gold, it was another lesson in the unforgiving education that elite football provides.

Peter Mponda stood on the touchline, his jaw set firm, eyes scanning the pitch with the intensity of a man who knew his team’s championship dreams hung by the thinnest of threads. With just two games remaining after this one, Bullets needed perfection—and they needed their rivals to stumble. The mathematics were cruel: 62 points from 28 games meant they’d need Mighty Wanderers to falter, requiring just four points to seal the title. It was the kind of pressure that either forges champions or breaks pretenders.

The previous matches had been a torment of inconsistency. Two wins, two losses—the kind of form that transforms title races into also-ran stories. The unexpected defeat to Creck Sporting still stung, and the hammer blow from Moyale Barracks had threatened to shatter everything they’d built over the season. Mponda needed his players to rediscover their ruthless edge, to remember what had brought them 19 victories before today.

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Across the pitch, Enos Chatama harbored his own ambitions, though tempered by the reality of Ekhaya’s maiden voyage in the elite league. Thirteen defeats, including four consecutive losses, painted a picture of struggle. Yet within those numbers lay stories of courage and growth. They’d been bloodied by the traditional big three—six defeats from Bullets, Wanderers, and Silver Strikers combined—but against everyone else, they’d held their ground, even thrived.

Chatama’s team arrived at Mpira nursing wounds from three straight defeats: Moyale Barracks, Mighty Wanderers, and Silver Strikers had each taken their pound of flesh. But hope flickered. Civil’s narrow defeat to Wanderers at Kamuzu Stadium meant the top four wasn’t completely out of reach. Win here, improbably, and storm the gates. More realistically, an Airtel Top 8 finish beckoned—a remarkable achievement for a first-season team.

The team sheets revealed an unusual subplot. Wongani Kaponya, Alick Lungu, Andrew Lameck, and Emmanuel Saviel all wore Ekhaya’s colors, yet each carried memories of their time in Bullets’ reserve team. Lungu had even tasted first-team action for the giants. When brothers face each other across the battle lines, emotions complicate loyalties. This wasn’t just a match; it was a family reunion conducted at full throttle.

For thirty minutes, Ekhaya’s courage defied the script. They didn’t merely defend; they attacked with purpose. Wongani Kaponya, scintillating and fearless, terrorized Bullets’ defense, his effort blazing over the bar serving notice that the rookies hadn’t arrived to make up the numbers. Joshua Waka, Ekhaya’s guardian between the posts, performed heroics—thwarting Ephraim Kondowe’s acrobatic bicycle kick and watching with relief as another Kondowe header sailed wide.

The tactical chess match began early. Chatama withdrew Blessings Malinda after just twenty minutes, introducing Joseph Macdonald in a bid to shore up his midfield. Mponda countered nine minutes later, summoning Maxwell Phodo from the bench to replace Mike Mkwate. It was a substitution that would prove decisive.

Phodo’s Instant Impact

Three minutes. That’s all Phodo needed to justify his manager’s faith. Peter Banda, operating as a number 10 with the freedom to orchestrate, combined beautifully with left attacker Chikumbutso Salima. The interplay down the left flank was poetry—quick passes, intelligent movement, the ball dancing between red shirts until Salima delivered a cross that seemed to carry all of Bullets’ desperation within it.

Wongani Lungu met it first, his close-range effort forcing Waka into a reflex save. But the ball fell kindly, as if destiny had already decided the outcome. Phodo, reading the play with predatory instinct, slid in to convert. One-nil. The 11th home victory of the season was beginning to take shape.

Just before the interval, Bullets struck again. This time, Phodo turned provider, his cross from the right flank finding Ephraim Kondowe in space. The finish was clinical, the celebration unrestrained. It was Kondowe’s second goal in three games, a striker hitting form at the perfect moment. For Ekhaya, trudging off the pitch at halftime, the mountain had just grown steeper.

Bullets emerged from the break with their appetite unsated. Chikumbutso Salima continued to torment Ekhaya’s defense, twisting and turning, creating spaces where none existed. Joshua Waka, performing miracles between the posts, produced another brilliant save to deny Phodo’s attempt to extend the lead. The goalkeeper was magnificent, but ultimately alone against the tide.

Mponda sought to inject fresh energy, introducing the pacy Babatunde Adepoju for Kondowe. Later, Vincent Salawila and Kesten Simbi replaced Levison Munyenyembe and Fanizo Mwansambo. Each substitution maintained the pressure, kept Ekhaya pinned deep, ensured there would be no romantic comeback.

For Ekhaya, Alick Lungu’s halftime withdrawal for God’swill Kanyika changed little. They huffed and they puffed, but the fortress wouldn’t yield another goal—and they couldn’t conjure one of their own. Against Bullets and Wanderers, they’d yet to find the net. Against Silver, just once. The gap between ambition and achievement remained vast.

The Brutal Truth of the Big Three

Six defeats from the traditional big three. The statistics were damning: Wanderers had beaten them 1-0 twice; Silver had triumphed 3-1 and 1-0; Bullets now held 1-0 and 2-0 victories. Of Ekhaya’s 32 goals scored this season, not one had been celebrated against these giants. Twenty-four goals conceded told of lessons learned the hard way.

Yet Enos Chatama refused to bow to despair. “These teams that are beating us now, we will beat them in future,” he declared afterward, his voice carrying the conviction of a man building something sustainable. “We are building a team. Even those watching our games can see that we are playing good football, creating chances but we are not taking them. We are lacking in striking force.”

It was the perspective of a coach who understood that Rome wasn’t built in a season, that foundations matter more than immediate glory, that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step—even when that step involves your 13th defeat of the campaign.

After the final whistle blew, Bullets had their 20th victory of the season and 62 points from 28 games. The championship dream remained alive—just barely—but it was no longer in their hands. Mighty Wanderers needed only four points from their remaining fixtures to claim the crown. Bullets will face Mighty Tigers and Mzuzu City Hammers knowing that perfection might not be enough.

For Ekhaya, their eighth road defeat and fourth consecutive loss overall stung, but two matches remained: Creck Sporting and Mighty Tigers. Win both, and who knows? The top four might still open its doors. More realistically, the Airtel Top 8 beckoned—a worthy ambition for a team in their debut season among the elite.

Two teams, two narratives, one afternoon in December. Bullets had kept their slim championship hopes breathing, but they’d need more than their own excellence—they’d need fortune to favor them against Wanderers. Ekhaya had absorbed another painful lesson, added another defeat to their education, but emerged with their dignity intact and their vision for the future undimmed.

In the end, football’s beauty lies not just in the scoreline but in the stories it generates: of veterans fighting to maintain their glory, of rookies daring to dream beyond their station, of families divided by the colors they wear but united by the game they love. At Mpira Stadium on that Sunday afternoon, all these stories collided, creating a match that transcended the mere collection of goals and saves and substitutions.

The championship race will continue, one way or another. Ekhaya’s education would progress, one lesson at a time. And the game—eternal, unforgiving, magnificent—will roll on, promising tomorrow what it denied today: another chance at glory.