Al-Taawoun Club legendary captain Hammad Al-Hammad greets the two Zambian internationals, Harrison โMuhammadโ Chongo and Arthur Lungu, after the final whistle.
For the Al-Taawoun faithful, Does anyone remember this match or have more memories of these legends?
This was a special photo of my father, Harrison Chongo.
I once asked him what was happening in this picture, and he simply said, โThat was when we won the league with Al-Taawoun Club in Saudi Arabia.โ
The celebrations in Buraydah were incredible. The fans were so excited that some even climbed onto the roof of the moving bus to celebrate with the team.
If you look closely at the photo, you can see Dad peeping through the window, seemingly sharing a moment with some of the fans as the celebrations continued.
A beautiful glimpse into the great memories he made in Buraydah with the team. He always spoke with immense gratitude about the support he received from the clubโs management and the fans, acknowledging their important role in helping the team achieve its goals and fulfil its mission.
A special memory of a special chapter in his football journey.
The Son Who Never Got to Watch His Father Play at Al-Taawoun ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ธ๐ฆ
In 2001, I was only six years old when my father, Harrison โWawaโ Chongo, returned home to Zambia from Saudi Arabia.
At that age, I did not fully understand what it meant to be a professional footballer or what Al-Taawoun meant to him. I only knew that my father had spent many years playing football in Saudi Arabia and that he had special memories of a club in Buraidah.
One day, I told him something that has remained in my heart ever since:
โDad, I have seen footballers holding their son's hands as they enter the football field. When you go back to Al-Taawoun, take me with you. I also want to watch you play in that beautiful stadium in Saudi Arabia.โ
To a six-year-old boy, it was a simple request.
I wanted to see my father play.
I wanted to stand beside him.
I wanted to see the stadium he always spoke about.
I wanted to see the club whose name I had heard so many times Al-Taawoun.
Unfortunately, that moment never came.
My father never returned to Al-Taawoun as a player.
His playing career eventually came to an end and he remained in Zambia, where he later continued serving football through Mufulira Wanderers as a coach.
He passed away on 12 May 2011.
I was still young.
And one of the things I never got to experience was watching my father walk onto the pitch in Saudi Arabia wearing the Al-Taawoun shirt.
Years later, I began to understand what Al-Taawoun meant to him.
It was not simply a club where he earned a living.
It was a place where he spent some of the most important years of his football career. It was where he built friendships, experienced victories and defeats, and became part of the football history of Buraidah.
Today, whenever I see an old photograph of my father wearing the Al-Taawoun colours, I sometimes think about that little boy who simply wanted to hold his father's hand and walk into the stadium with him.
That boy never got his chance.
But decades later, I can still tell his story.
And perhaps that is why Al-Taawoun will always have a special place in my heart.
My father may no longer be here to tell his story himself, but his memories, photographs, jersey and football journey remain.
From Zambia to Buraidah.
From Harrison Chongo to the next generation.