Polokwane City legend Puleng Marema opens up about the "secret" to his longevity and why he chose loyalty over the bright lights of the "Big 3." Photo: Backpagepix
Image: Backpagepix
There is something almost rebellious about Puleng Marema in modern South African football. At a time when careers are measured by transfers, salaries, and proximity to the so-called “Big 3,” Marema has quietly built a legacy that defies the script.
On Saturday, as he turned 35-year old, the Polokwane City stalwart marked the occasion not with nostalgia, but with another performance full of energy and intent, as he came on as a sub during their last-gasp 1-0 defeat to AmaZulu at the old Peter Mokaba Stadium.
Thirty-five! In local football language, that number is often whispered like a warning: pension time. But Marema is not listening.
“I still feel like I want to play,” he says, almost amused by the suggestion that the end is near. And perhaps that is where his story begins — not with age, but with endurance.
If there is a thread that runs through Marema’s career, it is discipline. Not the kind preached in dressing rooms and forgotten by midnight, but the kind lived daily, quietly, consistently.
“The way I trained from a young age, taking care of my body, resting properly … that’s the secret,” he explains.
South African football has long wrestled with the fragility of talent; players who burst onto the scene only to fade just as quickly. Marema has outlasted many of his contemporaries not because he was the most naturally gifted, but because he understood something fundamental early on: professionalism is a lifestyle, not an event.
Much of that grounding came from the unlikely influence of European coaches at Polokwane City. As he rattles out the names of Kosta Papic, Luc Eymael, Jozef Vukusic and the Brazilian Julio Leal, a smile of appreciation adorns his face.
“They were strict,” he recalls. “Young players had to be early, had to lead from the front. Even how we ate, what we did after training, it all mattered.”
In those details, a career was shaped. Marema’s story is rooted in Mogoto, a village in Zebediela in the Limpopo province where football was not just a pastime but a family inheritance.
“I come from a football-playing family,” he says. “My brothers were all better than me.”
As the youngest of five boys, he grew up carrying boots, watching from the sidelines, and learning by observation. School, he admits, never held the same appeal. By Grade 11, the decision was made: football would be the path.
In 2012, Marema was promoted from Polokwane City’s development ranks into the senior team. He has never left. In an era where loyalty is often viewed as a lack of ambition, Marema’s one-club career stands out. Offers came, many of them.
“Almost all South African teams wanted me,” he says. “All of the big three.”
Kaizer Chiefs. Orlando Pirates. Mamelodi Sundowns.
For many players, those names represent arrival. For Marema, they became crossroads. There was a moment, he remembers it vividly, when he nearly left. Influenced by voices around him, he sent a message to chairman Johnny Mogaladi expressing his desire to move.
“I regret how I did it,” he says.
What followed was a conversation. Mogaladi made a commitment — not just to the player, but to his family.
“He went to speak to my parents,” Marema recalls. “He told them he would take care of me.”
That promise would come to define everything. Football is, at its core, transactional. Contracts, transfer fees and bonuses — it is a business long before it is a game. Marema understands this better than most.
“The reality is, if you want to move, it’s about money,” he says plainly.
And yet, Polokwane City eventually offered him a contract that rivalled, or even exceeded, what some players at bigger clubs were earning.
“It was the biggest contract I could not refuse.”
Suddenly, the equation changed. Staying was no longer a sacrifice. It was a choice. Critics will point to one glaring omission in Marema’s career: silverware. No league titles. No major trophies. For Marema, it does not define the narrative.
“What matters is what happens after football,” he says. It is a perspective shaped by pragmatism. “Would I still be playing now if I went there?”
Today, Marema is more than a player at Polokwane City; he is the club’s identity. He has seen it all: promotion, relegation, the grind of the National First Division, and the joy of returning to the top flight.
“I am Polokwane City for life,” he says.
In a game that rarely rewards loyalty, Marema has made it his defining trait. And at 35, he is not done yet.