Vianney Mabidé: that triumph of the refugee and a land of pain

It happened just under a decade ago, in 2013. It was a goal that the West and the football elite no longer have much in mind. But was shouted throughout Africa and is remembered (from the Latin re-cordis, to repeat for the heart) in Morocco and in the Central African Republic as if it had happened yesterday. The semifinals of the Club World Cup were played. The Raja Casablanca (classified to be the champion of the Moroccan championship, that of the organizing country, today Botola Pro 1) had to face the inevitable candidate to reach the final against Pep’s Bayern Munich Guardiola: the Atlético Mineiro in which Ronaldinho stunned.

But there was surprise: the local team, won 3-1, became the third from Africa to reach a final of a FIFA competition. The other two: the Cameroonian national team in the Confederations Cup 2003 (that of the tragedy of Marc Vivien Foe, who died on the field during the match against Colombia) and the TP Mazembe of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, in which the final against Inter fell. by Diego Milito and Javier Zanetti, from the 2010 Club World Cup.

The memorable scene of that 11 December: Mabidé chases that goal he will never forget. He hits his chest. He looks proud. He screams as if he doesn’t mind losing his voice. He thanks heaven for that brief moment that belongs to him. It is not necessary to be inside him to understand what he is thinking: not so far from that stadium in Marrakech, his family suffers the hostility of a territory born and raised in poverty, the Central African Republic. His goal is a guarantee of happiness and surprise: Raja Casablanca eliminates Atlético Mineiro. There, in his homeland, the world seems to be falling apart on the heads of his compatriots.

The goal grants him another cry, which he communicates in a whisper at the end of the match: “My family’s situation is critical. They are missing, but I leave everything in God’s hands. My parents are in a refugee camp in Bangui. I have contacts with them and with my brother-in-law. It is God who decides that this happens, but I wish peace to the Central African people. My parents are away. It’s difficult. I can’t explain it, but it sucks me. I leave everything in the hands of God. “The day Mabidé became visible before the eyes of the planet, he decided to tell that pain that comes from afar. The most important milestone in his history, then 25, remained as the perfect excuse in this sense. Bad news: nothing has changed in your country since then: the Central African Republic ranks penultimate (188th) in terms of the UN Human Development Index.

The AFP agency, from the scene, offered itself with the words of this midfielder who, with the number 24 on his back, had become your team’s secret weapon: “At the moment, in my country, in the Central African Republic, there are many problems. The innocent lose their lives and this makes me very sad. I sacrifice myself for Raja, it’s my job, despite all the worries I have for my parents and my family. ”Club World Cup against Bayern Munich is a modest anecdote.

Mabidé – who now plays in the Chabab Atlas Khénifra, on the Moroccan outskirts, after being inactive during the pandemic – whenever he can he refers to his country in conflict, the one that protected his birth and childhood: “My family he complains, because they all went to the forest They tell me I’m not in the best situation, but they pray for me that everything will be okay. I know that all Central Africans will be happy. It is really the Central Africans who are playing the World Cup with me and I want to thank them for their support. Peace must return someday“He says” peace “, he repeats” peace “, he wants” peace “. His message is like a cry that that goal has allowed.

Mabidé and his destroyed country

But there is no case: it is a destroyed country. It has been wounded since the colonial era, when France disposed of its resources and decided for its people. Those days when this space had another name, Ubangui Chari. Dictators under the cover of foreign governments, an often mistreated constitution, coups after coups, plunge this country into the abyss. The main causes of mortality also tell what it is: malaria, diarrhea, anemia, pneumonia.

To this painfully traditional scenario was added another tragedy in 2013 which ended with the joy of Mabidé: a rebel coalition with a Muslim majority, the Seleka, overthrew President Francois Bozizé. Violence between Christians and Muslims has become a daily issue. External forces have arrived in the territory in the name of avoiding massacres. The African MISCA supplied 3,200 soldiers; Colonizer France sent 1,600 soldiers. The violence continues. Although no one can explain why in a country so rich in gold and diamonds, with oil in its roots, it only gives its battered land to the poor.

Being a footballer in a place like this is an open window. On the other hand there is a long road that does not always (or almost never) lead to heaven. Most of the results – so anonymous, so unknown – offer hell. Exceptions are Eto’o, Drogba, Okocha, Yaya Touré, Essien and Kanu; not mirrors of the phenomenon. The film Fourteen Kilometers, by the Spanish Gerardo Olivares, is shown with the crudeness of the stories that hurt. What usually happens with football illusions in the deepest corners of Africa is depicted: boys who walk in adolescence have to cross the Sahara with their feet and body in the name of reaching those small boats that invite the imagination to enter Europe. And to his football.

This is the beginning of the journey. Then come the representatives and the restrictions for lack of documentation. Then they have to play very well in order not to be sent off. Morocco – rich among the poor; participant in the next World Cup – is an intermediate ladder. Mabidé arrived therethe one with the goal, the one with the scream, the one who remotely embraces his refugee family.