Xenophobia, Soccer and the African spirit There is tag on your head when you are from a third world country and live in a Western society. You don’t see the tag but the owners of the country where you are a visitor see it. Like a signpost on a walkway, that invisible tag is for them a synopsis of your life. It tells them that because you are from another part of the world, there are certain things you will never be able to do even if you devote all your time and energy to it. That explains why they marvel when they see that you can do certain things that exceed their expectations of you as a third world citizen. It also explains why some of them display xenophobic tendencies towards you and other foreigners – it is simply because you are going out of the cage in which they have placed you in their minds. That was what happened on Saturday when we showed Germans how to play soccer the African way. Against all odds and sensible permutations, the African team won the third-place spot at the annual campus cup. But for the events that transpired in the sport hall that day, participating in a soccer tournament would have been just be another mundane episode of my adventure as a foreigner in Germany. But when I look back at how the African team performed in the face adversity; I am convinced that it will take a while for me and other members of the team to get over the euphoria of victory that has cloaked us since we won the trophy. Our journey to success at the competition sounds like the stuff of legends mainly because we were just a bunch of fun seekers pretending to be a team. How we excelled against recognized teams with the best of human and material resources at their disposals is the reason why some of our opponents and others who watched the games showed their xenophobic sides. I remember teasing Paul, our team leader when he called to inform me that we had been registered for the competition. I told him to bring a basket to the game so we could pack the many goals we would concede when we faced real soccer teams. Fear coursed through my veins when we arrived at the venue. From the jerseys and other paraphernalia, I could tell that we were the least prepared side but everything changed when the games started. On the field, there were no frills or swagger about our game. Knowing that we were up against better teams, we soaked in the pressure and hit them on the counter. During breaks, we had no coach to pat our backs and encourage us with some pep talks. We succeeded because we had the will and resilience to do so – that is what drives us as Africans, especially when we are away from home. To the delight of those who were irritated by our style of play, our fairy-tale ride ended at the semi-finals where we conceded a silly goal and scored one which was cancelled by the referee. But we were gallant in defeat. We pumped our fists in the air and taunted them with an African dance. Their faces were red with mixture of hatred and envy but we didn’t care – that’s how to deal with xenophobic people. In the third place match, Kingsley was our striker and he scored the match winner. Paul was our captain, yelling from the back. Charley played from the flanks and Nicholas supported him. I pierced German defences with incredible passes from the midfield. Nana was our goalkeeper and he saved Africa in a million ways. We won. Africa won. Thanks to the African spirit of resilience.
Posted on: Sun, 14 Dec 2014 21:19:58 +0000