As a court case to prevent the Springboks travelling to the Rugby World Cup was dropped, Kaya Malotana, the first black player capped by South Africa in the professional era, says his country can be a nation of winners if they embrace principled systems of management rather than making emotional decisions

“Kaya! You can’t score in your own goal. As a keeper you are supposed to pick the ball up!” The voice belonged to my uncle, shouting during a game of street soccer in Zwartwater, Lady Frere, Transkei.

In the 1980s I grew up herding cattle and sheep from the tender age of four and, when I was not doing that, I was watching my uncles play rugby. I came to understand that a dotted rugby ball in the in-goal area by the defending team meant a 22m drop goal restart before I knew what an own goal in soccer was.

The Transkei homeland, like Ciskei, was a product of apartheid where blacks were segregated and forced to live at that time. There they could own land, businesses and even teach themselves through Bantu Education, an education system which was deliberately inferior to white education.

“There will never be a black player to play 1st XV in this school.” This was the conclusion, among the black kids, after discussions about which teams we were going to try out for at Queen’s College Boys’ High School in 1992. The year before, Queen’s college had ceased being an apartheid state organ and had opened its doors to all South African children.

The first crop of black children, including me, had been indoctrinated into believing that we were good only to run and that rugby and cricket were not for us. Sadly most believed it – but only most. A year later, in 1993, I became the first black athlete to represent the Queen’s College 1st XV.

Two years later, as a 19-year-old, fresh from representing my country at the Fira U19 World Cup in Romania, I watched the late, great President Mandela hand the Webb Ellis Cup over to Francois Pienaar. 1995 was a great year for South African rugby and gave us all hopes of becoming a special nation, the “Rainbow Nation”. I was proudly wearing my Springbok U19 blazer and I dreamed of becoming a Springbok.

After the success of 1995 came the belief that rugby needed to transform to keep the spirit of the World Cup alive. Affirmative action and the Quota System were born. “Quota player” became the new label for non-white athletes in any representative team – all non-whites, in any team. And so it became a period in which we lost our identities.

All non-white rugby athletes at one point in their career have heard the term: “You are not like the rest of them.” In the desire to be trusted for our playing ability we started living up to the expectation of not being “like the rest of them”. The “reward” was acceptance into certain inner circles… alienation from our own people and a new label: “Coconut.”

These challenges were minimal for those of us playing our rugby in the Eastern Cape for Border Bulldogs because there was no shortage of talented non-white players. The term “quota player” was a changing-room joke directed at the white athletes because they were the minority.

At the start of the 1999 rugby season Border had just acquired the services of one of my most respected and admired coaches, Gert Smal. I was enjoying a good run. I was pleasantly surprised to be included in the 1999 Tri Nations tour party and, in my mind, this was putting me in good stead for the 2000 season. But only when my team-mates and supporters started talking about Springbok colours for the World Cup in 1999 did I start thinking it was possible.

The buildup to the announcement of the 1999 World Cup squad, as this year, was overshadowed by the need for “quota players”. Being included was both a blessing and a curse – a blessing because I had an opportunity to represent my country at the highest level and a curse because all the headlines had labelled me a “quota”. There was no mention of my rugby ability, my character, my loyalty to team and country.

The runup to the recent 2015 Springbok squad announcement was no different. The word has changed from quota to “transformation”. It seems our greatest achievement in 16 years between then and now was to read a thesaurus and find a synonym.

Spare a thought for [black scrum-half] Rudy Paige when the headlines all read: “[Cobus] Reinach – unlucky omission from World Cup Squad.” I’m not saying Rudy will have the same experiences as I did but he has been set up to be judged under the label of transformation and not his rugby ability.

It is very unfortunate because I rated him and Francois De Klerk as the in-form scrum-halves who deserved to be given a chance. The coach, Heyneke Meyer, developed a principle of selection a long time ago in which in-form players find it hard to crack into his inner circle. Many in-form players can count themselves unlucky – not because of the colour of their skin but because of the coach’s personal preferences.

There is a dire need to transform South Africa in all spheres of life and society so that, one day, sport becomes a natural representation of our oneness. This should not be a cheap movie script with a sequel every four years at World Cup time but a daily effort by all South Africans to create a fertile environment in which our children have genuinely equal opportunities.

We make emotional decisions rather than developing principled systems of management to guide our people into becoming a nation of winners. We have become so addicted to the drama of bedevilling one another that we miss fundamental opportunities to foster love, honesty, trust, accountability, peace and a prosperous coexistence that calls on us to serve each other with respect, commitment and excellence.

Kaya Malotana won his solitary Test cap against Spain in October 1999 after being selected as a winger in the Springbok squad for the 1999 World Cup. He retired after successive knee injuries and now coaches at club level.