01 JUNE 02: “If you are
a goalkeeper, maybe you put an elephant tooth in your boot to make you
big and strong.”
Magic of the Cup
Muti, marabouts, and
witch doctors – all bad for game’s image
Sunday February 10, 2002
A semi-final that featured
three shots hitting the woodwork, three red cards, a missed penalty, three
goals and several on-field punch-ups would normally have made all the headlines,
but not last Thursday.
All the
above happened in the first semi-final of the African Cup of Nations, when
Senegal surprised Nigeria by winning 2-1 in Bamako’s Stade Modibo Keita,
but the game was utterly overshadowed by events before kick-off a few miles
across town at the Stade du Mars 26, where Cameroon were preparing to take
on the host nation, Mali, in the second semi-final.
As Alassane
Diao was scuffing the winner seven minutes into extra-time for the Lions
of Senegal, the Cameroon coach, Winfried Schafer, and his assistant, Thomas
Nkono, found themselves being arrested by Malian police, ostensibly for
trying
to place a magic charm on the pitch before the game.
For the
Confederation of African Football, for whom this tournament is their global
showpiece, the incident could hardly have been more embarrassing. Schafer
– banned from the bench today for abusing a match commissioner – diplomatically
played down the incident, but CAF are desperate to throw off the Third
World image that they believe was a major factor in the decision not to
award South Africa the 2006 World Cup.
‘We are
no more willing to see witch doctors on the pitch than cannibals at the
concession stands,’ a CAF spokesman said. ‘Image is everything.’ But belief
in traditional religions still exists, nowhere more so than in Senegal,
where many attribute the rapid rise of French coach Bruno Metsu’s side
as much to the work of marabouts – the heads of local Islamic brotherhoods
who effectively act as intermediaries between believers and Allah – as
to their coach’s tactical nous.
Two years
ago in the Nations Cup quarter-final in Lagos, Senegal, having taken an
early lead, looked to be holding on when, 15 minutes from time, a former
official of the Nigerian FA raced on to the pitch and seized a ‘charm’
that had been lying in the back of the Senegal net. Senegal protested,
but to no avail, and Nigeria went on to score twice and win. The official
was subsequently banned, but his action was seen as hugely significant
in Nigeria’s progress. This time around, Senegalese journalists insist
they saw a marabout smearing goalkeeper Tony Sylva’s post with an ointment
ahead of the Lions’ 1-0 victory over Zambia in the group stages. Sylva
went 448 minutes without conceding a goal.
Freddie
Saddam is widely recognised as being South Africa’s most loyal fan and
his trip to Mali was financed by the South African FA. ‘I didn’t used to
think anything of muti [fetishism],’ he says, ‘but now I know it to be
true.’ He is in no doubt that the dearth of goals in Mali – 47 in 30 games
before yesterday’s third-place play-off – is down to the influence of the
witch doctors. ‘It is not normal,’ he says. ‘If you are a goalkeeper, maybe
you put an elephant tooth in your boot to make you big and strong. How
do you score past a man who is like an elephant?’
Elephant
teeth are readily available at the fetish market just south of the Stade
Modibo Keita, a bargain at 2000CFA a pop (£2). A monkey’s head costs
2,500CFA, a cayman’s head 7,500 and porcupine quills 5,000 a bundle. Last
August African Soccer magazine ran a 10-page investigation into witchcraft
in football, detailing animal sacrifices, self-mutilation, casting of spells,
lucky charms, odious concoctions and a one-hour delay at an international
match while teams argued about who would be first to step on to the pitch.
One South
African player recalls: ‘There was a time when things weren’t going well
for our team [one of the biggest in the country] and a director put us
all on a bus out into the bush. They cut the top off this big termite mound,
dug all the earth from inside and poured this muti mixture in. We all had
to bathe naked in it and walk back to the bus without walking backwards
at any time.’ Results improved. Mamadou, the fetishism store-owner in Bamako,
is unsure about what each item does, though he insists ‘many, many footballers’
go to his store.
‘I am
just the pharmacist, not the doctor,’ he says. Adama Dore, though, is an
expert. He is a magic-man from a village just outside Bamako, who deals
with 30-40 customers a week. His son, Aboubaka, is a promising youth player
for French side FC Paris – a rise, Dore insists, that has been much aided
by his magic.
Dore
also claims that France’s World Cup victory four years ago, far from resulting
from the defensive pairing of Marcel Desailly and Laurent Blanc, the skills
of Zinedine Zidane or the pace of Thierry Henry, was largely down to the
spells of Aguib Sosso, a Malian witch-doctor who died two years ago. Dore
and Saddam both feel it is unfair that the CAF should have decided to ban
the muti-men. ‘Will they ban Catholic players crossing themselves?’ Saddam
asks, spittle flying from the wide gap between his front teeth. ‘Will they
shut the chapel at Barcelona? If you believe, muti makes you stronger.’
The editor
of African Soccer, Emmanuel Maradas, says football only reflects the society
in which it exists. But it is embarrassing for the image of the game in
Africa, he believes, that so much time and money is devoted to witchcraft.
Whatever
they believe in, mental strength is something Senegal have in abundance,
as they proved in the semi-final when they put behind them the first-half
dismissal of Birahim Sarr to overcome Nigeria. El-Hadji Diouf, twisting,
turning and full of tricks, is their undoubted star, but he is aware of
just how important the team ethic is.
‘I know
that everyone in Senegal says El-Hadji Diouf is the star of Senegalese
football, but I don’t agree, because the real star is the group and the
solidarity within the group,’ says the Lens striker. That sense of unity,
born of the fact that nearly the entire squad are based in France, has
been carefully nurtured by Metsu, whose laissez-faire approach to discipline
has had its critics, but has, thus far, undeniably worked. His counterpart
this afternoon could hardly be more different.
Schafer
knows he was appointed largely to be as stereotypically German as he could
be. ‘I have never doubted the individual ability of my players, but when
I took over they lacked self-belief, tactical discipline and organisation,’
he explained. They have those qualities now. Cameroon in Mali have been
dull, muscular and brutally efficient. They are yet to concede a goal in
the tournament, are top-scorers with nine, and appear to be peaking at
the right time – if a little too reliant on the dead-ball skills and assists
of Real Madrid’s Geremi. Even without the injured Patrick Mboma, the Cup’s
joint top scorer with three goals, they turned in their best performance
in the competition in the semi-final. Mboma is fit again today.
Should
Cameroon repeat their triumph of two years ago they will become the first
side since Ghana in 1965 to retain the African Nations, a hiatus Schafer
sees as a challenge rather than a burden. ‘Cameroon have never before done
well as defending champions,’ he said. ‘They have never done well in a
World Cup year: this is simply another hurdle to overcome.’ Dore, though,
is backing Senegal. ‘I have seen that a West African side will win,’ he
says.
Schafer
overcame the riot police; it remains to be seen whether German single-mindedness
can overcome Dore’s metaphysics.
Arthur Magazine 