Winton Rufer, Frankie Fredericks and The Ball

“Well, we saw a little bit of it today in Windhoek, Namibia with the game Global United against African Allstars. It’s a celebration of the world’s game. The people turn out. Lots of colour. Lots of action. Having a really good time. Lots of goals as well. It can’t be better.”

Andrew legitimately meets Winton after the game

“How will New Zealand do at the World Cup?” asks fellow Kiwi Andrew.

“New Zealand will get through, and lose the semi-final to Brazil”, replies the now grey-haired and still thick-accented Winton, with a grin.

Wouldn’t that be fab, thinks Andrew as Winton generously provides him with ten autograph cards.

“Here we have my personal signed signature cards for my Kiwi mate Andrew. So that when he goes to South Africa, he can give a few more away to show that we were legitimately together in Windhoek, Namibia.”

Overcome by Winton’s foresight and generosity, Andrew is left speechless.

Memorial to the fallen heroes at Independence Stadium in Lusaka

After refuelling successfully in Gabon the plane took off. What happened next has laid the foundations for many a conspiracy theory. A fisherman reported a huge explosion and saw the plane go down. This man was the only eyewitness and within a week he was dead. His death raised the bar, the Zambian people wanted to know what really happened. Because it was a military aircraft, there was no black-box on board and no way to find out the reason for the crash without the help of Gabon’s Government, and this has not been forthcoming.

The version that is most popular today is that one engine caught fire, the pilot made a mistake in shutting down the good engine instead and the plane crashed. But we still do not know exactly what happened.

The saddest day in Zambian history is remembered

What we do know is that players, coaches, administrators, and journalists were all on board. Their remains were brought home and buried right here outside of the national stadium. The monument here, and the graves of the fallen, are a shrine. The Zambians still mourn the loss of those heroes. They still come here, 17 years on, to pay respect to the dead, and they still sing songs about those players at every home match in Independence Stadium. And they still wonder what might have been.

Today, we mourn those players as the sun goes down. Then, together with emotional Zambian football officials, we enter Independence Stadium, accompanied by twenty barefoot kids. Accompanied by a national team striker, we kick The Ball on the pitch. The ear to ear smiles on the faces of the youngsters brighten up the atmosphere. They are living the dream…

Kids allowed to play in the National Stadium with The Ball

“Normally this pitch if reserved for the professionals and the national team. We are making an exception today for you and The Ball.”

Michael and Andrew in Atlanta last year

Michael is one of those characters, who one assumes never sleeps and dreams up creative education projects for fun. He’s a live wire football-freak, and he jumped all over The Ball’s mission with the result that Spirit of Football CIC and Todo Aleman signed a strategic partnership.

Be knowledge-a-ball

Michael connected us to Goethe-Instituts in Sub-Saharan Africa and here we are at the Bambino School, with Kirstin Pagels, Director of the Goethe Institut in Lilongwe. We quiz the packed auditorium on their (German) football knowledge:

“Where is the next women’s World Cup?”
“When has Germany won the World Cup?”
“Which historic walls was The Ball 2002 kicked over?”
“Where did The Ball’s journey begin this year?”

Goethe-Institut encourages learning through football

We’ve learned on this journey that many children in Africa have a strong knowledge of football. They know the teams that play in the top leagues in Europe. They know which country a top player comes from and can even point to where that country is on a map. We’ve visited academies like Right to Dream in Ghana, that has an entire curriculum based on football.

The entire Bambino school as one big team

The Ball is an educational opportunity. Young people love football. We want to develop a comprehensive, interactive fun education experience based around The Ball. Children can learn about the histories, geographies and the cultures of the places that The Ball travel through. They can be introduced to important social messages (such as the work of Alive & Kicking and Special Olympics) at the same time.

Social messages are passed on through football

In Johannesburg, during the World Cup, we are due to lead workshops for 80 children that the Goethe-Institut are bringing in from all over Africa. We hope that each and every one of us can have fun together and learn something too.

Christian contemplates the next 14 hours

14 hours later and we arrive in Kyela, within touching distance of the Malawian border. At the border, many locals have heard about The Ball and we’re allowed to film The Ball being stamped out of Tanzania and kicked across the bridge that separates these two nations.

We’re expecting a friendly reception in Malawi, which touts itself in tourist brochures as “the friendly heart of Africa.” Our first experiences are, however, don’t match this cosy image. At immigration, we’re told, in no uncertain terms, to stop filming immediately. A visa stamp for The Ball is refused and there are no smiles whatsoever at the immigration desk.

We explain time and again that The Ball has been stamped in and out of every country in sub-Saharan Africa. We even show pictures of The Ball being stamped out of Tanzania just a few minutes earlier. But the Malawian customs officials aren’t persuaded. Not in the slightest.

“If you don’t give The Ball a visa stamp then it can’t come into Malawi” Andrew says.

“Are you sure that you want Malawi to be the only country not to give The Ball a visa?” asks Christian before he lists off the countries that have given The Ball a visa.

Finally, the customs boss relents and stamps The Ball, perhaps thinking that this might be the only way to get rid of these strange guys, but there is no way we’re going to film the stamping.

An anonymous linesman stamps The Ball

Borders are a strange concept, particularly so here in Africa where, some time ago, some men sat down somewhere (perhaps in London) with sharp pencils, long rulers and lots of tea and divided this continent up. Border posts followed — and with them border guards, who we affectionately call the linesmen. Thankfully, the linesmen haven’t flagged us offside yet.

The Ball takes a light-hearted poke at the strange concept of borders and nations as it makes its way to the World Cup, paradoxically a tournament that celebrates and sometimes even shapes perceptions of nationhood. The Ball, we think, is about making connections between people regardless of their nationality. In fact, we’d take that one step further and say as we always do… One Ball. One World!

All signs point to a fascinating day

The Maasai here have upheld their traditional beliefs: They wear their traditional clothes, pierce their ears as they have for centuries (ear lobes are so large they can wrap them around the tops of their ears) and they still live very simply in thatched huts surrounded by their animals.

The distinctive thatched roofs of the boma

As we move towards the Boma we meet many Maasai who are eager to touch The Ball. The Maasai appear to be a tribe full of goalkeepers as they are very keen to throw The Ball around and not so good on the ground.

A female Maasai goalkeeper signs The Ball

After a few yellow cards are dealt out by Christian for handball, perhaps realising that they are on the brink of being sent off, they begin to pass The Ball around with their feet and relish this new experience. Eventually we arrive at the village and its time for a game of football. It’s suggested that the cows, goats and donkeys can play too but they seem quite shy.

The Ball at The Boma

Andrew fires The Ball past the Maasai goalkeeper at the entrance (goal) to the village and everyone enters. The Ball is kicked into a hut, where a stew is on the boil.

Rolling into a traditional hut

The Ball seems to hold an almost mystical value to the tribes’ people: children and adults alike want to touch it and kick it and every single one of them signs it. As we leave the village, we have forgotten something very special. The Ball!! They run after us and hand The Ball back.

Not posing at all, Maasai-style

We feel honoured to have been guests of Maasai. We’ve won again and The Ball rolls ever on.

Big screen action in Longido

As I’ve travelled with The Ball (Tanzania being the 24th country en route to the World Cup) I’ve met hundreds of Liverpool fans. And, unfortunately, many more Man Utd, Arsenal and Chelsea fans. Africans love their Premiership football. Just about everybody wears a fake jersey of the club team in England that they follow passionately and the first question is almost always “which English team do you support?”. And, to our amazement, we’ve stumbled across live Premiership and European club football in some of the most out of the way places. Longido is a prime example.

We are the only Europeans in town. The locals are mixed between the indiginous Maasai and new arrivals from the rest of Tanzania. The population numbers a few thousand. Football, once more, is a unifying force. Live football in Longido means one place: a bar with a projector, a large screen, a mixed crowd and Kilimanjaro beer. We’ve won again. Last night we watched Inter hang on against Barcelona at the Nou Camp. Julio Cesar, who signed The Ball in February, was once again the star of the game. And tonight, the locals are hungry to see more live football. And so am I. Its another huge European night at Anfield. Come on Liverpool!

A gloom descends on Liverpool fans

Ahhh, its not to be our night. Babel misfires. Gerrard is a shadow of his former self and Benitez confuses once more with his strange substitutions. I am left frustrated. My team is out. The club goes deeper into crisis. But life goes on even though in the moment I can’t imagine it. Liverpool is out.

Tonight, in Longido, I am walking alone.

Mt Meru and the vast plains make for a spectacular backdrop.

The Ball is played with for the first 10 minutes but it is deemed too flat and is traded for another football.

Are you hard enough? Apparently The Ball isn’t

The other football pops after striking a thorn on the sidelines and The Ball is called back into action.

A rolling ball gathers no dust

The practice session lasts long past the point where it’s possible to see the ball, but no-one seems to mind.

At the end of the day, it’s a game of two halves

An unforgettable moustache

Back in Casablanca in February, Nicole Matuska had told Christian and me about a group of Portuguese journalists who were also on a trip to the World Cup. Phil and I heard more about them from a young Portuguese lady one boozy evening in Ouagadougou. A week later in Abidjan, at a visit to the famous football academy of ASEC Mimosas, they came up once again. It seems inevitable that our paths would cross.

“Are you from Portugal?” I ask. “Yes,” comes the response. “Are you going to the World Cup?”, “Yes” again. “Roger Milla is not in Yaounde,” I say. A knowing look — You must be from Spirit of Football.” It turns out that we know about them and they know about The Ball. And, what’s more, there are three French guys on another journey to the World Cup who are also in town. It’s going to be a World Cup trip dinner tonight.

The Portuguese journey started in Lisbon on the 9th of January. They have been on the road the longest. We kicked-off our journey on January 24th in London. And the French trip, which is sponsored by TV Channel Voyager (France’s answer to the Discovery Channel) began on the 6th of February in Paris.

The Portuguese are die-hard Benfica fans. I take great pleasure in taunting them about Liverpool (my team) having knocked Benfica out of the Europe League a few weeks ago. They talk about their emotional goodbye from friends and loved ones in Lisbon — it sounded dramatic. The final goodbye from hysteric, wailing mothers expecting never to see their children again — Africa would be the end of them, they thought.

The French duo’s farewell was not quite as emotional. They are an interesting pair. One of them is a football fan. The other hates football but loves Africa. Their story is one of anti-football and pro-football contrasted against an African backdrop. “Are you falling in love with football” I ask the non believer. “Not really” comes the reply, “but I can understand it more.” “Are you falling in love with Africa” I ask the other, “Yes,” the emphatic answer. The love of Africa and of travel and mostly of football is what brings us all together. Sharing common themes through very different experiences.

Separate teams but a common goal

We talk about life on the road in Africa, the ups and downs, the near misses, the pressures of reporting the journey. We go our separate ways, but not before making optimistic plans to meet up again with the Portuguese in Zambia, the French in Namibia and the Portuguese again in Johannesburg on the eve of the Opening Ceremony.

All roads here lead to the World Cup.

The Minister, his cabinet, Andrew and The Ball

Overcoming his surprise, the Minister then tells us about the Cameroonian Society for the Employment of Youth (RIFMAS) which runs a programme called Fabrication du Materiel Sportif.

“We employ youths to produce footballs and nets. We have 35 employees in four regions of the country. We produce footballs because the public demands them. We sell the balls produced to schools at a very good price.”

The Minister insists that we meet Levi Herve Oyono, the Director of RIFMAS. Andrew tells Levi that The Ball was hit by a car in Abidjan and taken to hospital, where it was bandaged up.

Levi Herve Oyono, the Director of RIFMAS

“Ah, you can get it repaired at our stitching centre,” says Levi, as he inspects The Ball.

“No,” says Andrew, “it’s going back to Alive & Kicking in Kenya to be restitched. The panels can’t be replaced, but could The Ball get a patch?”

“Okay, no problem,” comes the reply. “You can visit our workshop in Yaounde.”

Outside the Fabrication du Materiel Sportif factory

The next day, we arrive at Fabrication du Materiel Sportif. The Ball Doctor is waiting for us. His name is Bekala Florent Esto and, with practiced hands, he slowly and gently examines The Ball’s wound.

The Ball’s gaping wound

His diagnosis? “I’ll remove this panel and stitch a patch of leather over the wound. It is a great pleasure for me to repair this great ball. I heard about The Ball on the radio and I am honoured to do this.”

With the care of a professional surgeon, The Ball Doctor removes the damaged panel, and glues a carefully cut strip of leather over the hole on the panel’s underside. Then, he stitches the leather strip on to the panel and the panel back on to The Ball. It is a fine operation and shows his splendid skill and craftsmanship.

The Ball deflated and with a patch removed

The Ball Doc. glues on a leather bandage

The bandaged panel is restitched

The Doctor weighs The Ball in at 3.5kg. Fit as a football. He pumps The Ball up and it’s ready for use again. Its roundness is even back once more. He measures it as 76cm.

Oversized Ball

“Slightly oversize,” he says.

It’s quite unusual for a patient to get a good kicking after an operation, but in this case, that’s exactly what happens.

The players on that plane made up the greatest Zambian team ever assembled — the pride of a nation. They were dreaming of Zambia’s first World Cup qualification.

The plane, which many had said was unfit for use, had refueled for the second time in Gabon. As it took off, there was an ear-shattering explosion. Every one on board perished.

Zambia mourned first, then later accused Gabon. Gabon denied any responsibility. A long-lasting diplomatic feud began.

And here am I, sitting on the self-same runway in the only seat in the cargo hold of another rickety, old Russian military plane — which is preparing for take-off. I’m more than slighly nervous as I listen to the noisy engines and I feel my body vibrate with the rest of the plane. To compound my fears, it appears that smoking is permitted on this flight.

The Ball in the Russian cargo plane

I take a moment to refect upon what might have been for that Zambian team — and to pray that, unlike those poor footballing souls, I live to kick The Ball another day.