Salt of my earth

The day after Makhaya Ntini had given South Africa their best-ever individual Test match figures of 13 for 132, he was in the nets, bowling. His team-mates were elsewhere - relaxing, no doubt, after having peeled the scabs off West Indies in the second Test at Queen's Park Oval. One might surmise that Ntini was buoyed by the personal accomplishment of 7 for 37 in the second innings, but more likely he was releasing the energy that exudes so profusely from his wiry frame.

Ntini has evoked admiration from Caribbean people. His tireless gait recalls a sense of stoic rising to long days of backbreaking labour, of putting one's head down against dusty winds and trekking to the task. He reminds Caribbean women of the men they used to know - salt of their earth, hard-working, committed and reliable - and they love him for the stamina they wish to see reborn in their islands.

Ntini represents more than the success of a black man emerging from a repressively racist society. When he was named in the Test squad in the summer of 1997-98, there was celebration here of his achievement. He had been embraced by the Caribbean before, when he played for the University of the West Indies Vice Chancellor's XI against India at Queen's Park Oval early in 1997. It was, in a sense, his international debut, and it is fortuitous that the man organising it was Hilary Beckles, whose background as a professor of history and a cricketer enabled him to place the Ntini phenomenon in an educational context.

Ntini, a black boy from Mdingi, was barely 19 when he emerged from a rural development programme to win a prized scholarship to Dale College. And he could bowl. He had not yet been selected for Test cricket, but he was a fine choice for this university team.

When South Africa toured in 2001, Ntini had already warmed the hearts of West Indians. At the grounds, spectators pleaded good-naturedly with him as he attacked the West Indies batting. "Ntini, don't forget you're one ah we," an Indian man had called out, begging him to show mercy at Queen's Park.

At Kensington Oval, a woman argued that because of his blackness, the West Indian batsmen were treating him with contempt. The same balls coming down from a white South African, she said, were being defensively played. Her heart went out to him as she feared he would be dropped, and she blamed West Indian batsmen for putting his career on the line. Not that she was begging for mercy, she said; she wanted them to confront the other bowlers with the same attitude. Ntini's return in 2005 has evoked the same warmth. The development of his bowling skill has been greeted with approval.

That he is South African has not figured heavily in his Caribbean reception, nationality being superseded by his identity as a strong, talented, fine, black man. Unlike Roland Butcher, a black Barbadian who grew up in England and represented the English on his debut against West Indies in Barbados. He was specially targeted for extra hostility by West Indies bowlers and spectators. Nationalism's heavy hand dealt him some hard blows. Not so for Ntini; a sign of changed times.