Soccer match : Senegal vs Cote D’Ivoire

This past weekend, I had the craziest experience of my life! Just when I thought Senegal could not get any crazier, it sure showed me! Seriously, it’s going to be hard to write a short post about this! You need all the details you can possibly have so you better take a seat and grab some popcorn and make sure you’re quite comfortable there! Ha!

As you may or may not know, in many many countries, soccer is a game that people will kill for. In Haiti, people commit suicide when their teams lose. In Spain, they fight each other. In Senegal?  Well let’s just say I have never seen anything quite like it before! I’m pretty sure it made international news but it was definitely quite the experience.

This past weekend was my first time at an official soccer game. And by official, I mean between two countries, in a stadium. When I studied abroad in France, the soccer games did not interest me much so I never bothered to go. But here, there was no way I would miss a soccer game, let alone if the stadium is 20 minutes away from my house.

People talked for weeks about the Senegal vs. Cote d’Ivoire match after the first one they had in September when Cote d’Ivoire murdered Senegal with 4-0.  The game I attended was the qualifying game for the Africa Cup of Nations. I overheard many Senegalese belittling their own teams. They had no hope for Senegal. When I asked my papa if he was going to at least watch the match on TV he responded: Why would I waste my time watching a match when I know we’re going to lose and not be qualified?

Before I bought my ticket, I knew there was no way on this earth that I wanted to be in a crowd of football fanatics with the other American students alone. I do not like being in crowds. So I was not going to take the chance of being in a crowd where I did not speak the local language without someone who spoke it. Yes, I may be fluent in French but my Wolof is definitely not good enough for me to understand if chaos was near. So I thought ahead. I invited my classmate’s host brother to come with us. When he responded “maybe” I told him, in my sassiest voice, that I was not giving him a choice and that there was no way around it as he always said no whenever we invited him to come out with us. In the end, he ended up coming. So it was him, my classmate and I.

The starting time of the game was 6:30 PM. As people started heading to the stadium around 11:00 AM that Saturday morning, I did not see my self doing the same thing and waiting in the sun, so we decided to leave around 3:30 PM. Even though, I was not rooting for any of the team, I decided I would at least try to wear the Senegal flag’s colors considering it was my host country. When we got out of the taxi in front of the stadium, we walked at least 30 minutes to be able to find the end of the shortest line we noticed so we can get in it. The wait was approximately an hour and a half. The three of us waited in the fire hot sun and witnessed the hyper fans, all the Senegalese flags that the fans were wearing, all the flags that were on passing cars in the crazy traffic jam. “After all”, I thought, “Even though no Senegalese had faith in the Senegalese team, they surely were showing lots of support.”

As we finally entered the Leopold Sedar Senghor stadium, each person was individually searched. My friend’s host brother who is a smoker got his cigarette packs and lighter confiscated. So to myself I said “I guess this is going to be a safer environment after all. NO need to worry.”

As we struggled to find seats on the concrete bleachers, I could not find the rest of the American students of my program. Somehow, no one had service on their phones in the stadium so I gave up on finding them. Therefore, it was just the three of us amongst the rowdy Senegalese fans. The spacing was tight! No personal space! Throughout the game, people who did not know I was not Senegalese tried to have conversations with me in Wolof. There was a group of Americans who sat behind us on the bleachers. We waited about an hour until the start of the game as the fans became impatient. One of the famous wrestlers made his entrance on the field as the crowd cheered. Some political figures entered. The marching band played. The Ivorian team came out for their warm up and the cheering of the small Ivorian fan section was smothered by the booing of the 80,000 Senegalese fans. The Senegalese team made their entrance and the fans got rowwwwwdddyyyy!! Someone within the crowd got sick and the ambulance had to come. I witnessed people booing and throwing empty cans at EMT guys and their stretcher as they took the sick person away. Finally 6:34 PM came and the game officially started.

Throughout the first half, both teams were putting in a lot of effort, though more effort was made in trying to stop each other from scoring rather than trying to score. Seeing this and how tough it was, I really thought the whole game would be like this. I thought we would go into overtime for penalties. The crowd was still rowdy, yelling at the referees when they would call a fault, throwing plastic bags of water that would explode the moment they reached the concrete and throwing empty cans to the tracks that created the distance between the soccer field and the bleachers. Had the track field not been there, these items would have definitely made it to the field.

The first half of the game was over and I decided I would try to find a bathroom. As I squeezed my way through the bleachers and through the crowd, I witnessed the signs indicating that the bathrooms were near. But there were only males trying to make their ways in them. I looked around for a female bathroom and there was none. I knew that coed bathrooms existed everywhere in Senegal but I could not see myself entering this bathroom with all men, especially when none of them had lights. We looked around and all the bathrooms were the same way: a group of men trying to fight their way through the door before the second half started. I witnessed a fight that almost broke out so I knew there was no way I’d enter these bathrooms. “You’re going to have to find a spot and take a squat.” My friend’s host brother said while laughing. I sassily rolled my eyes and he laughed again. In the end, he walked to a girl who was also waiting outside one of the bathrooms and asked her if she knew where the female bathroom was if it existed. Apparently, she too needed to go but was as scared as I was, to enter any of the chaotic bathrooms with strong male presence. So she came, grabbed my arm and we made our way into the bathroom. Her boyfriend came in to look after her and my friend’s host brother did the same for me. Finally, this bathroom experience was over. I thanked her as everyone tried to make their way back to the bleachers. Of course we knew we would not be finding the same spots we had before, thus we rushed so we could at least find some a spot that would fit three people. After 15 minutes, we finally did and they were in the nose-bleed section of the stadium. The second half had already started.

Within a couple of minutes of us sitting down, Cote d’Ivoire made a goal. As one could not make the difference between which part of the concrete bleachers was considered as the stairs part, Senegalese fans started leaving and making their way home. There was 35 minutes left for the rest of the game. This is where I saw that they really had no hope in their team. I understand leaving 10 minutes before the game ends, but 35 minutes? Really? Once again, I witnessed angry fans, bottles (thank God they were not glass bottles!), cans, plastic bags of water, and other items being thrown in the soccer field’s direction. A few fights almost broke out. The fans were aggravated as they felt that this was already the disqualification of Senegal. No hope! Though a lot of people left, this provided seats for the fans who were unable to find some and the spaces quickly filled up. About 5 minutes later, Cote d’Ivoire made another goal. The score was now 2-0. A few seconds following that goal, I witnessed a Senegalese fan jumping over the fence that blocked people from falling over onto the field. This guy ran as fast as he could ( way faster than the football players. I said he should have been on the team!) and made his way onto the field while the match was still going on. A few meters after him were the police, the military officers and the Special Forces trying to catch him. Another group of policemen came from the other side and tackled him down. He had already made his way to the middle of the field. I was sure he was going to attack the Ivorian player who made the goal. He was taken away by the police. A lot of people started to find their way out of the stadium after that second goal. They tried to resume the game but I could feel the instability in the air.

The game was resumed for a couple of minutes until I noticed the Senegalese fans across the stadium tearing down one of the Senegalese flags that covered the wall. The game was stopped. Quickly after, a fire emerged from that same section. This could not be good! I saw people running in all directions. The cops, the Special Forces, the military, the firemen that were present throughout the whole game (as if fires were EXPECTED) all tried to make their way to secure the crowd. Next thing you know, fires were emerging everywhere. Bottles, cans, all of what could be thrown were being used. The chaos was still a few sections away but I panicked as everyone was running away from it all and running towards my section. The fences that separated the sections were being thrown down. A lot of the Special Forces ran towards the small Ivorian crowd’s section to secure them from the crazy Senegalese fanatics. I witnessed some of the Ivorian fans jumping over the fence and onto the field because they clearly feared for their lives. There had to be at least 10 ft of height between them and the ground. But they preferred to jump and save their lives rather than be attacked by the Senegalese fanatics.

At that point, you could smell the fear off of me. My friend’s host brother grabbed my hand and said “We definitely cannot leave the stadium. We have to stay here until it calms down, until the crowd leaves or we will get hurt.” In my head I thought he was crazy, because smoke was everywhere, more fires were emerging in all sections. Why would I want to stay in here? My first instinct would have been to leave but if it wasn’t for him I probably would have gotten caught within the large crowd who was escaping from the Special Forces’ batons. He took my hand, put me in the highest step of the nose-bleed section and stood in front of me to prevent me from getting hit by the flying objects or getting hurt in any way but the running crowd. (Quite the knight in shinning armor I must say! Ha!)

Soon I saw the batons of the police and Special Forces chasing people away and they were taking refuge in the section where I was standing.  The next thing I witnessed was an erupting fire in my section, a couple of steps down from where I stood. I soon heard was sounded like a gun shot. To me, that was my cue to leave. Then I heard it again, but this time it was a firework. My friend’s host brother was still standing in front of me as I was against the wall. I witnessed the small French kid (about 8 years old) a few meters away from me on the wall, crying as his parents stood in front of him to protect him from flying objects as well. “J’ai peur” I’m scared he cried as the tears ran down his face. That’s exactly how I felt inside. As I looked around, the Special Forces came running towards my section with their batons. In my head I thought “I promised people that I was going to make it back to the US the same way I came here so I need to get out of here before this fire gets worse.” My friend’s host brother was still holding my hand as he turned around and told my friend and I that we should leave now. “But do NOT run, just walk. They will start spraying tear gas” he said. The Special Forces were near me and yelling in Wolof. I wanted to run because I knew if they started spraying tear gas, my asthma would not be happy. “DO NOT RUN!” he repeated to me as he held on to my hand tightly. “If we run, they will run after us and think we were a part of the chaos.” So I listened and we walked down the steps and out of the nose-bleed section. As I got out of the stadium area and into the alley which led to the parking, I noticed one guy being beaten with the batons of two Special Forces officers and being stumped on while he was on the ground. “We cannot run” my friend’s host brother reminded me. “You’ll be alright. I’ll make sure to it.” As we stood on the steps which led into the parking lot, I witnessed the commotions of cars and people trying to find their way out of the gates of the stadium. One of the gates was even removed from the wall. “We cannot go through this; we’re going to wait here a bit.” my friend’s host brother said.  But as soon as he finished his sentence two Special Forces officers walked to us and screamed in French “Go! Get out of here right now!” I said in English “You don’t have to tell me twice!” and sped down those stairs. My friend’s host brother took my hand and made sure the three of us walked out of that stadium safely. It had now been 1 hour since the chaos had started.

I knew that our 20 minute ride home in a taxi would take hours, seeing the commotion. So I suggested we walked home. That walk turned out to be 1 hour and a half! But it was great as I walked my fear and panic off. It felt nice to be able to breathe non-smoke air again. Though I was still a bit scared because I knew that chaos could arise in the streets at anytime, it felt good to be out of the stadium. The three of us were safe. At this point, my phone had service again and I decided to call the rest of the students in my program to see if they were ok as some of them were not accompanied by a Senegalese. Everyone was fine and made it out of the chaos. My program’s directors texted each of us to see if we were fine. My host papa called me to see if I was fine. Thank God we were fine.

The moment I walked into my friend’s house, the maid was watching TV and the experience I had just lived was the only thing on TV for the breaking news. I could not help but shake my head and laugh. We decided to go out and get some food and as we sat down in front of the restaurant, we witnessed four large busses accompanied by the cops. They had transferred all the Ivoirians, from the stadium, including the team, onto the busses to bring them to a secure place. I was glad that they were safe and sound. They and the Senegalese team received the most protection from the Special Forces. Thank God they were safe and sound. All of this was unnecessary and the match was never finished.

So to conclude this post I want to humorously say this:

Dear Senegal,

I want to thank you for my first official football (soccer) game experience! You people have a lot of character when it comes to football! This was quite the unforgettable experience and will probably be the most memorable!

Update: But wait, the news lied! They said no one got hurt but the news paper mentionned that 30 Ivoiraians were hurt and 6 of them are in fatal conditions.