Dynamos Football Club’s “Dirty” Money? The Truth Behind The Controversial New Multi-Million Dollar Deal!

The “Glamour Boys” of Zimbabwean football are once again at the centre of a storm that has nothing to do with the magic they produce on the pitch. Dynamos FC, the nation’s most decorated and popular club, has just signed a massive four-year sponsorship deal with AfricaBet and ContiPay. While the club’s top executives are publicly celebrating what they call a “financial lift,” a much darker story is unfolding behind the closed doors of the boardroom. Our sports desk has been digging into the details of this deal, and what we found is a controversial power shift that could change the club forever.

At first glance, the deal seems like the answer to the club’s prayers. For a team that has often struggled to balance its books despite its massive following, a multi-million dollar injection should be a cause for celebration. However, the atmosphere at the club’s training ground and within the executive offices is far from festive. Rumours are circulating that the new sponsors are not just providing money; they are demanding a seat at the technical table. This means that AfricaBet and ContiPay could potentially influence player selection and coaching decisions—a level of interference that is unheard of in professional football.

This is the kind of conspiracy that DeMbare fans love to debate over a cold drink, but the evidence suggests there is more to it than just terrace gossip. We have been analyzing the “investigative” angle: is this a genuine sponsorship, or is it a “hostile takeover” disguised as a helping hand? In many ways, the deal feels like a surrender of the club’s independence. When a sponsor begins to dictate who plays on Saturday afternoon, the club ceases to be a sporting institution and becomes a corporate plaything.

To understand why this deal is so controversial, one only needs to look back at the recent US$2.5 million injection from Sakunda Holdings. That deal, led by Kuda Tagwirei, was supposed to provide the stability Dynamos needed to return to the pinnacle of African football. It paid salaries, funded recruitment, and even looked at infrastructure. So, the question remains: why did the club need more money so soon, and at what cost to their independence? The internal friction between the board and the executive team over how this new money will be spent has already claimed its first victims.

In a dramatic move that has left the club in a state of flux, the club’s owner and board chairman, Bernard Marriot Lusengo, recently dissolved the entire executive team. While the official reason given was a failure to run the club efficiently, insiders suggest the real reason was a disagreement over the AfricaBet deal. Those who pushed for clarity on the “hidden” clauses of the contract were reportedly shown the door. It seems that in the dark rooms where the “big boys” play with the nation’s favourite sport, questions are not welcome.

The lack of transparency is perhaps the most worrying aspect of this entire saga. When we asked for the finer details of the contract, we were told they were still being “thrashed out,” even though the deal has already been announced. This suggests that the club’s leadership may have signed away more than they are willing to admit. For the fans, the “Glamour Boys” name represents a legacy of pride and independence. If that legacy is being sold to the highest bidder, the “glamour” may soon be replaced by the cold reality of corporate control.

While the boardroom battles continue, the situation on the pitch has been equally bizarre. Take, for example, the July 2024 2-0 loss to their arch-rivals, Highlanders. While the players were reportedly “downing tools” and boycotting training over unpaid dues, the club’s leadership was busy making a different kind of payment. Reports have surfaced that the club paid a sangoma US$1,000 to ensure a victory against Highlanders. When the team lost anyway, the sangoma claimed the “house was tied” and demanded another US$2,000 to “cleanse” the entire squad.

The financial disparity revealed by this incident is staggering. A source close to the club revealed at the time that the sangoma could be pocketing as much as US$18,000 a season if he is paid for every game. To put that into perspective, the highest-paid player at Dynamos was earning about US$1,800 a month. Even Bernard Marriot himself was reportedly receiving a monthly salary of US$1,090, which included a US$90 DStv subscription. It is a strange world where a traditional healer earns more than the stars the fans pay to see.

When questioned about these payments at the time, the club’s leadership remained defiant. “The owners of the club said that this was a tradition at Dynamos and it was not going to be changed simply because the players were boycotting training,” a source revealed. This highlights a fundamental disconnect between the club’s management and the modern professional game. While the players were worried about how to pay their rent, the “big boys” were more concerned with appeasing the spirits.

“It was like they were saying that paying the sangoma was more important, in terms of getting the result which we wanted from the game against Highlanders, than the training itself,” the source lamented. “The message was like as long as we satisfied the sangoma then we did not need to worry about the issues that had happened at training because the club would still be in a position to compete against Highlanders.” Of course, football is played on grass, not in the spirit world, and the demoralised players were easily brushed aside by a Highlanders team that had actually spent the week training.

The reliance on juju and sangomas is a phenomenon that extends across the African continent, but at Dynamos, it seems to have reached a level that actively hinders the club’s progress. Instead of investing in youth development, better training facilities, or scouting, the club is diverting precious resources into rituals that have clearly failed to deliver results. The sangoma’s latest demand for US$2,000 to “cleanse our house” is likely to be granted, further draining the club’s coffers while the players continue to feel undervalued.

The irony of the situation is that the AfricaBet and ContiPay deal was marketed as a way to bring the “glamour” back to DeMbare. But what kind of glamour is built on a foundation of unpaid players, boardroom purges, and secret deals? The internal friction is not just about money; it is about the soul of the club. Is Dynamos a community asset that belongs to the fans, or is it a private enterprise controlled by a few powerful individuals who are willing to sacrifice independence for a quick “financial lift”?

The “hidden” clauses of the AfricaBet contract are the subject of intense speculation. If the rumours are true, the sponsors will have a say in everything from the starting eleven to the choice of the head coach. This kind of “technical table” involvement is a slippery slope. If a coach knows that his job depends on pleasing the sponsors rather than winning games, the integrity of the sport is compromised. It creates a culture where merit is ignored in favour of corporate interests.

Furthermore, the comparison with the Sakunda deal is telling. Sakunda’s involvement was seen as a patriotic gesture by a local businessman to save a national institution. The AfricaBet deal, however, feels more like a commercial transaction with strings attached. The fact that the club needed more money so soon after the Sakunda injection suggests that the previous funds were either mismanaged or were simply not enough to cover the cracks in the club’s crumbling infrastructure.

As an investigative journalist, I have seen many clubs fall into the trap of “easy money.” They sign deals that look great on paper but eventually lead to their downfall. For Dynamos, the stakes could not be higher. They are not just a football team; they are a symbol of Zimbabwean pride. If they lose their independence, they lose their identity. The “Dirty” money tag may be harsh, but until the club’s leadership can provide full transparency and show that they are putting the interests of the players and fans first, the questions will continue to mount.

The story of Dynamos FC is a cautionary tale of what happens when the “big boys” play with a nation’s favourite sport. It is a story of dark rooms, secret handshakes, and a complete disregard for the people who actually make the game what it is—the fans and the players. As the new season approaches, the “Glamour Boys” find themselves at a crossroads. One path leads to professional management and a return to glory; the other leads to a future where they are little more than a marketing tool for their sponsors.

The fans deserve better. They deserve a club that is run with the same passion they show in the stands. They deserve to know the truth about the AfricaBet deal and why their favourite players are being sidelined in favour of sangomas and corporate executives. The “glamour” of Dynamos has always come from its history and its people. If the current leadership continues on its current path, they may find that no amount of money can buy back the soul of the club.

In the end, the truth behind the controversial new deal may be simpler than we think. It is a story of a club that has lost its way, looking for a shortcut to success while ignoring the very things that made it great. The “Dirty” money debate will continue to rage, but one thing is certain: the eyes of the nation are on Dynamos, and the “big boys” can no longer hide in the shadows.