Being the jaffa called Sinalo Jafta

Small things matter in wicketkeeping. A foot here, a hand there, a word in the bowler's or the captain's ear can make all the difference. As can next-level awareness. Sinalo Jafta was central to one of these quietly key moments during a T20 World Cup match between South Africa and India at Old Trafford last Sunday.

Ayabonga Khaka bowled the last delivery of the 19th over to Richa Ghosh. The ball drifted outside off stump, but not enough to be called wide. Ghosh thought differently, and politely petitioned the umpire. In doing so, she moved towards the other end of the pitch. Would Ghosh step out of her ground?

Jafta, who had caught the ball, stood close to the stumps, gloves poised above the bails and watching intently. Whether a wide was called or not was immaterial – you can of course be stumped off a wide. Should Ghosh leave the safety of the crease, Jafta was ready to strike.

Ghosh didn't move far enough, and so Jafta did not pop the bails. And the controversy that would have erupted had she done that was averted. Was the ball dead? Depends who you ask: Jonny Bairstow or Alex Carey.

"It's about attention to detail," Jafta told Cricbuzz when asked about the incident. It is, but there's more to this than that. Her skills behind the stumps have leapt in recent months. She is taking the ball more cleanly and is rarely in the wrong place at the wrong time, whether the bowler is a spinner or a seamer.

And that while standing up to all of South Africa's current seamers except Shabnim Ismail, maybe because that would earn Jafta a torrent of invective from one of cricket's most fiery fast bowlers.

The motto beneath the badge on every wicketkeeper's metaphorical blazer used to be: thou shalt not be noticed. If you stood out you were doing it wrong. But standing up to the stumps means standing out.

Jafta is doing both – a seamless job almost in the wings, which includes silently, carefully watching for batters who leave the crease when they shouldn't, and putting herself front and centre just behind the stumps. Her keeping has become as slick as her neat, tidy, sharp haircut. How had that happened?

The answer is tied to three names: Mduduzi Mbatha, who was appointed the team's fielding coach in April, Mandla Mashimbyi, who has been South Africa's head coach since November 2024, and of course Jafta herself.

"[Mbatha] has turned me into an OCD case," Jafta said. "I'm now very nit-picky about the way I catch the ball." That has led to a process that involves far more than simply catching the ball.

On match days, Jafta said, she would "always be in the earlier bus to the ground" in order to "have a full-on net session for 15 to 20 minutes". The intention was "to get my hand-eye coordination sorted so that, by the time that I go out there, I'm fine. I've covered all bases."

That done, she has something to eat and re-emerges with her wicketkeeping gloves. "Then I do my one-hand catches. I'll only do two-handers after the team huddle. I catch about 20 straight drives and then about 10 high catches.

"I do the majority of my work standing up [to the stumps]. So I want to make sure I'm always in a good position. That starts with the warm-up. By the time I'm walking out to play, I'm calm. I've done what I needed to do."

Also in the match against India, Smriti Mandhana being bowled trying to scoop Kapp in the third over had at least as much to do with an accurate delivery speared towards off stump from around the wicket as it did with Jafta lurking just behind the stumps. Unwillingly tethered to the crease, Mandhana fell victim to the pressure to conjure a boundary.

"As soon as we see someone charging down the pitch, that's my signal – 'helmet please.' Because we want to keep batters in their place."

That wasn't always the way with Jafta: "I feel far more comfortable standing up now. Before, I used to be like, 'Oh my gosh!' Now it's like, 'This is fun!' I was so nervous in the beginning because I was worried about messing up. And I didn't trust my prep.

"Now I know that if a ball passes me, that is a brilliant ball. It's not because I was in a bad position. It must be a jaffa that beats everything. And if I can't catch it, I put my body on the line. I've got a couple of bruises from that India game because I got pinged quite a bit. But I'd rather get hit than sacrifice runs."

What role had Mashimbyi played in Jafta's improvement? "All he asked me to do was watch the ball. If you watch it, you can catch it. But if you can't watch the ball, it's pointless. The skill was always there. Now there's belief, too. But I had to start from ground zero with keeping and batting."

Ah yes, batting. Jafta is a lightning rod for criticism – which often veers into vicious abuse – for her lack of innings of consequence. In part she is a victim of her era: modern keepers are batters first, regardless of their excellence in the field.

The fact that she has batted as high as No. 7 only five times in her 26 T20I innings – and has not taken guard in 46 of her 72 games in the format, and has a highest score of 17 not out – is all held up as evidence against her. So far, not so good at the T20 World Cup: she has batted three times, been dismissed twice, and scored seven runs.

But the ODI picture is brighter. Soon after he took over, Mashimbyi told Jafta she would bat at No. 6 in the format. She had been at Nos. 7, 8 and 9 for 17 of her first 19 innings. In her first 13 innings in the position she scored 150 runs, never more than 29, and was not out just once.

Then, against Pakistan in Bloemfontein in February, she walked to the middle with South Africa 170/6 in the 32nd over of an innings reduced to 41. An assured, focused Jafta scored an unbeaten 57 off 38. She hit eight fours and dominated a stand of 90 off 56 in which Sune Luus – who scored 93 not out off 76 – made 28 off 18. In five subsequent innings Jafta has been in the 30s twice in a total of 101 runs.

Jafta credits a conversation she had with Mashimbyi early in his tenure, and what followed, for that progress: "I used to have these weird innings. I scored quickly, but I could never last. So I said to him, 'Coach, I really want to be the best version of myself, but I just don't know how.'

"He broke it down for me. All I did in the nets, for two or three months, was block a cricket ball. Just defend, defend, defend… It was so frustrating. Even with a half-volley, he's like, 'Defend. Because I want you to get into good positions.' Then he moved me to starting to hit. And instantly I had shots I could never play before."

Does that mean Jafta 2.0, with bat as well as keeping gloves, comes down to better positioning?

"No. It's the belief that I can do anything if I put my mind to it. I used to feel maxed out after games. I couldn't switch on and off. Now I will switch on as soon as I see the bowler is ready to go. As soon as the play is done, I talk to someone, relax, get my mind off it.

"I've always had this method, but along the way I forgot about it and I was more worried about being perfect. There's no such thing as being perfect, but you can find a way to make sure you do the right thing. I want to be authentically myself. Always.

"I say the same thing to the kids – find what works for you, don't try to replicate what I do. There won't be anyone like me out there. It's about having your own identity. I think I've figured that out."

The "kids" include Karabo Meso, the 18-year-old keeper-batter who is also in the T20 World Cup squad but has yet to play a game. Many of the barbs slung Jafta's way ask why Meso hasn't succeeded her. Had that prospect motivated Jafta to up her game?

"She's an amazing kid. She is a genius. And she's got a long career ahead of her. For me, it's being there whenever she needs me. She's the same age as my brother, so I have this weird feeling of seeing him in her."

Jafta isn't an obstacle to Meso. She's her cheerleader in chief, a role she also plays in a greater sense: "Mandla said to me, 'Your energy is gold. If yours drops we're in big trouble.' I've taken that as my responsibility – to make sure the energy is always high."

Even opponents feel it: "I'm too nice to chirp [sledge] batters, so I'll be annoyingly loud. If you're batting and someone is yapping away, it's annoying."

At 31 and with Meso on her way, Jafta is closer to the end of her career than the beginning. What might she do next? She has lent her articulateness and enthusiasm to commentary, but is also studying towards psychology qualification.

"I feel it would be really beneficial as an ex-player to be there, whether it's cricket or another sport. I think I could add value. Because mental health is something we don't speak about."

That ambition is informed by her own experience, which included a dangerous dance with drink.

"If I had a better understanding of mental health I don't think I would have been on the way to potentially becoming an alcoholic. I drank to silence the noise in my head because I didn't know how to deal with it. If a player can be open and honest, it changes everything."

Small things matter to Sinalo Jafta. So do big things.