Sean Jacobs's Blog, page 494

Ronald Reagan’s Africa

Ronald Reagan will be celebrated again today (his birthday is February 6, 1911) as a world statesman and champion of democracy (mostly by Republicans and Conservatives in the United States), but this not how people in the Third World experienced his tenure. Take Southern Africa (I grew up in South Africa) for instance. As I wrote a few years ago, there the “Reagan doctrine” or “constructive engagement” not only extended the lifespan of apartheid, but, scholars are now arguing, unleashed the privatization of terrorist violence that has become the central preoccupation of twenty-first century politics.

As far as our corner of the world was concerned, Reagan set the tone of his presidency shortly after his 1980 inauguration, telling a journalist that the United States would try to be “helpful” as long as apartheid’s leaders were making a “a sincere and honest effort” to reform apartheid. White South Africa was a “friendly country” and a good ally in the international battle against Communism. Later that year, Chester Crocker, the highest ranking Reagan administration official on matters African, put it more bluntly: “All Reagan knows about Southern Africa is that he is on the side of the whites.”

Crocker, a protégé of Henry Kissinger from the Nixon era, developed what would become the cornerstone of Reagan’s Africa policy: “constructive engagement”. It was based on two main premises: one, the insistence that regional peacemaking in Southern Africa was the necessary precondition to change within South Africa. This included such extraneous issues as Cuban troop withdrawal from Angola, for example. The second was that President PW Botha and his generals were genuinely capable off reforming apartheid, and in fact were committed to doing just that.

Instead, the 1980s became the most bloody decade in the region’s history as the South African government backed by the US, pursued proxy-wars in Angola and Mozambique, fomented conflict between local groups inside these states conducted commando raids into Botswana hunting for members of the anti-apartheid resistance and occupied Namibia, in the process killing and displacing thousands of people, militarising whole populations and crippling economic systems. The UN estimates the total loss to the Angolan economy from 1980 to 1980 at $30 billion, six times the country’s 1988 GDP.

At home, security forces killed, tortured and detained as many as 10,000 opponents and fed, with funding and guns, what the government passed off as “black-on-black violence” in the South African and international media.

Former Washington Post reporter Bill Berkeley, in his book The Graves Are Not Yet Full, reports that in his first two years in the White House, Reagan eased controls on exports to apartheid South Africa, beefed up its diplomatic mission there, intervened to support South African loan applications to the IMF, approved visas and official visits for military leaders and pro-regime intellectuals, and vigorously defended South African interests in the United Nations. US corporations would also sell computer technology to the South African military.

Despite complaints from within the United States and elsewhere that constructive engagement was benefiting apartheid, the Reagan administration persisted with its strategy until the end of the decade.

Botha’s reforms followed by extreme state terror on the black population and government opponents were labeled a “step in the right direction.” When Botha unleashed full scale state terror in the aftermath of his now-infamous Rubicon speech (where he reneged on promised reforms) in 1985, Reagan instead blamed South Africa’s deepening political and economic crises on the ANC and “tribalism”.

When the US Congress finally succeeded in enacting stringent sanctions against the South African regime and businesses, largely through popular pressure, they met strong resistance from the White House: Reagan first vetoed, then reluctantly implemented the measures.

With political apartheid a thing of the past inside South Africa, one aspect of Reagan’s Southern African policy seems to be coming back to haunt the Americans, and the rest of us, too: Scholars now agree that Southern Africa provided the birth-place for the violence now commonplace of privatized and ideologically stateless groups such as Osama bin Laden’s Al Qaeda.

Columbia University political scientist Mahmood Mamdani, originally from Uganda, in his 2005 book, Good Muslim, Bad Muslim: America, the Cold War and the Roots of Terror, argued that in the aftermath of the Vietnam War, the US government shifted from a strategy of direct intervention in its fight against global Communism to one supporting new forms of what was termed “low-intensity conflicts” fronted by proxy states and private armed groups in the 1980s throughout Indochina, Latin America, Africa and Afghanistan. What is referred to now as collateral damage was then not an unfortunate by-product of war, but “the very point of terrorism,” noted Mamdani.

The rebel movements, UNITA in Angola and Renamo in Mozambique, both trained and armed with US support by South Africa’s Defense Force, were the guinea pigs for this policy. Renamo became “Africa’s first genuine terrorist movement” discharging aimless violence against Mozambican civilians without any chance of becoming a series contender for national power in a civil war that even outlasted Reagan. Adapting the strategy used in Africa, the US would go on to support the Contras in Nicaragua and elsewhere, before finally encouraging a broad front of extreme Islamists, to fight the Soviet “the Evil Empire” to the finish in Afghanistan.

The American media is currently infused with nostalgia for the Reagan years. We may still be living the Reagan years.

* That’s Ronald Reagan and Pik Botha, longtime foreign minister of South Africa through the 1970s and 1980s, meeting at the White House. Pik Botha who would also serve in Nelson Mandela’s first “reconciliation” Cabinet as Minister of Mineral and Energy Affairs (!).

#Ghana #BlackStars is trending

The Ghana Black Stars won their Afcon 2013 group and then beat Cape Verde in the quarterfinals Sunday to make it through to a semi-final later today against Burkina Faso. However, observers online and in Accra report that many fans have been complaining that it is too stressful and they cannot watch the matches and are beginning to shout at the television in frustration. The Black Stars have been winning but have looked far from convincing or dominant. There still seems to be frustration from your average fan that the Ayew brothers and others are not playing. During Ghana’s victory over Niger, a Black Star player was observed talking on a mobile phone while sitting on the bench. This made me wonder who was giving them advice. I think players should be allowed to bring mobile phones onto the pitch so that fans and relatives back home can text them rapid strategy-changes during the match.

In their first match in the tournament, the Democratic Republic of Congo fought back from a 2-0 deficit for a dramatic 2-2 draw against the Black Stars. Not only that, they clearly won the battle of goal celebrations with their goalie Muteba Kidiaba’s viral-going level-changing butt-dancing moves. Ghana’s celebration dances have clearly been planned and coordinated but lack the focus and distinctiveness that critics come to expect. Look for that to change as celebrations are sure to kick into a higher gear for the Semis. I think they are suffering from a post-Azonto uncertainty; with the Azonto dance craze close to running its course, though still alive, clear successors are yet to emerge. Football celebration dances have a long history, dating most explicitly to Cameroonian Roger Milla’s post goal-scoring moves from the 1990 World Cup extending through Asamoah Gyan’s celebrated Azonto inspiring steps in 2010. And Ghanaians have come to be known for their football celebrations. In fact, at World Cup 2010, fans and media from other teams were annoyed by Ghanaians for celebrating too vehemently. After one goal during the group stages as Ghanaian fans danced and sang, a South African commentator quipped with disgust “they dance around like they just won the tournament.”

In Ghana’s 1-0 victory over Mali, Wakaso scores the first Afcon goal of his career on a cool, calm penalty. Afterwards he was cautioned for lifting his jersey to show a t-shirt upon which is written “Allah is Great.” With a previous booking it leads to a suspension. With a blonde stripe down the top of his head and shaved line designs on the sides he brings together a number of the style trends of the Black Stars.

At half-time Pantsil calls a team meeting on the field imploring them with passion. His play has been solid if not spectacular but more importantly he seems to be playing the role of elder-statesman giving guidance and calling for calm and teamwork and strategy. Many of the younger players have noted he has stepped up to play an important leadership role.  Emmanuel Agyemang-Badu is again named man of the match for the second time.

A crucial factor in Ghana’s run that received some early attention but seems to have been forgotten is that savvy observers had grave concern that Coach Kwesi Appiah’s fashion troubles affected the team in the first match. His way-too-short tie was the subject of much blogosphere-twitter ridicule. Clearly its presence contributed to DRC’s come back to tie the match. Appiah wearing an open white fashion dress shirt in the second match is an excellent example of an effective coaching adjustment. Appiah stuck with this change for the following matches which seems to have led to great team success.

In the final group stage match Ghana beat Niger 3-0. Kwadwo Asamoah showed great pace with the ball and moved well. Atsu scored a 2nd goal against Niger displaying relaxed control; though to some viewers he has yet to live up to expectations.

Most notable was the sartorial clash of managers against Niger easily won by Appiah who has settled in to wearing his suit and crisp white shirt with swagger and confidence.  In contrast, Niger’s coach looked like he hacked the sleeves off his suit jacket in the tunnel on the way to the pitch.

Cape Verde lost to Ghana 0-1 but for much of the second half Cape Verde looked stronger and faster and they certainly won some fans with their play at this tournament.

Fatau Dauda was named man-of-the-match in Ghana’s win. He earned it for a series of brilliant saves that allowed Ghana to go through to the semi-finals. Harrison Afful has earned respect for his defensive play since the first match. He looks in control; and seems a calming presence as when he soothed his goalie after Dauda’s strange hand-ball at top of the goal box against Mali. There are rumors of attention from European clubs. Solomon Asante, the diminutive Ghana-based striker, has also earned some fans with his speed and precision and there are calls for him to get more playing time.

The Black Stars play has mostly been well organized and they have not lost their cool. They have passed and moved well but lacked definitive presence around the goal. On-line disappointment has been fast and brutal with virulent critiques of the lack of offensive focus. I will spare you all the really profane ones but one facebook commentator encapsulated them with “No playmaker No Trophy!! No Second Striker No Trophy!!” While some fans applaud the play of captain Asamoah Gyan for drawing defenders to him and attacking goal, others still have no faith in him and want to see him on the bench. To my mind he is doing well to keep his team focused. Considering the teams remaining in the semifinals, Ghana must remain the favorite to win this tournament, though Nigeria looked strong in its surprising victory over Côte d’Ivoire. I am looking for a Ghana-Nigeria finals with Ghana winning 3-2.

“Only Seydou Keita is worth anything.”

Post by Laurent Dubois*

The Western-most tip of Africa seemed like as good a place as any to watch the Mali vs. South Africa quarter-final in the African Cup of Nations. On Saturday, I was at the Pointe des Almadies in Dakar, a tourist stop and hang-out with a beach carpeted with black stones and hand-holding couples. On offer there were grilled fish, birds, paintings made of butterfly wings, ham and cheese crepes and beer, Bob Marley renditions—and a tiny television tuned to the match. We stood packed behind a bar watching. Everyone, as usual, was both coach and expert tactician. “Mali is leaving way too much space for the South Africans–they are fast!” “Why can’t they hold the ball?” “Only (Seydou) Keita is worth anything.” Some went on offense: about the South African coach Gordon Igesund: “That white man needs to calm down! He’s going to be more tired than his players!”

“Who are you rooting for?” a man turned and asked me suddenly. “Mali!” “With everything that’s happening there they need it,” he tells me. “They’re our neighbors,” another adds. We all turn back to the screen in time to see South Africa slip through the saggy Mali defense and score. Generalized hissing. “They’re going to get crushed. Crushed,” a man declares. For a while I think he’s right. But then: Keita, angling his header down for the bounce just enough to pass over the falling goalie. Stabilizing the boat.

I was in Dakar at the CODESRIA conference Afrika’Nko. Mali was on everyone’s mind. The conference was originally to take place in Bamako, but moved to Dakar because of the conflict there. Much of one afternoon was consumed by a heated debate about a statement condemning the recent burning of ancient manuscripts in Timbuktu. The signs of the intervention were visible in the city, too. Wandering through the crowded center of town, I fell in behind a group of uniformed French soldiers winding their way along the street. From the sidewalk a man said to them: “Vive la France!” The soldiers looked back a little cautiously, not totally sure whether the statement was sarcastic or not. But the man seemed quite sincere, and the soldiers nodded.

During the African Cup of Nations games, life in Dakar didn’t exactly stop. But it did proceed to a single soundtrack. On the upper floors of a cloth market and factory, the shops each had a small TV turned to the games. I sat in one for a while where, fed up with the French language commentary from the TV, a young man muted the volume and then cranked up the radio commentary from Dakar. In rooms nearby where men worked at sewing machines, the radio blasted the game, and there was enough time for them to dash over to a TV to see replays if something big happened. On the street, a man wandered out into an intersection, slightly oblivious, holding his phone to his head–listening to the streaming radio of the match. And each of Dakar’s often beat-up yellow taxis that drove by had the same soundtrack.

When much of a city and much of a continent is watching something, you can almost feel the collective shifting of moods. There was that moment of seeping dread, late in the second-half game of Mali vs. South Africa with the score skill locked 1-1, when everyone realized that overtime was coming, and after that, most likely, penalty kicks. But Mali’s players, and goalie, controlled the shoot-out from the beginning. Each of them went in, it seems, knowing that if there was a moment to proceed without fear and with hesitation, this was it. Gracefully, they dispatched South Africa without even needing to shoot the full five shots. The cheers were immediate and uproarious: “Mali!”

I was so deep into the African Cup of Nations that, when I returned on Monday to the U.S. and someone asked me whether I’d seen the game last night I said enthusiastically, “Yes!” But I thought they meant the Burkina Faso vs. Togo quarter-final—not the Super Bowl, which I had forgotten was even happening, and whose unfolding had barely registered in Senegal. I quickly learned the essential take-away from that event—that Beyoncé is totally fabulous—but realized that those who, here, found Burkina’s progress into the semi-final a notable historical event would be few and far between.

Later today Mali goes on to face Nigeria in what is sure to be a difficult match. After last year’s amazing and emotional victory by Zambia, though, anything seems possible. And a victory for Mali in the midst of the war in the country would be a meaningful one. The conflict there has created, both within the country and among those watching and worrying from Senegal and other parts of the region, a powerful sense of dissonance and fragmentation. History is bearing down on the present: the long and complex history of Islam in West Africa, of the relationship between the desert regions of countries like Mali and the more populated cities, and of course of the history of French colonialism and neo-colonialism and the ambiguity of a population largely celebrating an intervention by France.

That there is a place, on the pitch, where “Mali” seems relatively straightforward–11 players with one goal, though also with an infinite number of ways to reach it – is perhaps a kind of comfort. And so to is the idea that, at times like this, the game has a chance to be more than itself. At one point in the game, the one woman in the bar where I was watching pointed in surprise and wonder–above the ball, in a slow-motion close-up, you could just barely see a moth fluttering its wings.

* Laurent Dubois, professor of history at Duke University, blogs at Soccer Politics.

Watching the African Nations Cup with Ghana fans on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn

While the Ghanaian migrant community in New York City is centered in the Bronx, there is a smaller, yet equally as Afcon-enthusiastic population of Ghanaians in the Flatbush/Crown Heights neighborhoods of Brooklyn. Meytex Cafe on Flatbush Avenue is part social club, part Ghanaian restaurant, and part bar/party space that provides a social center for the Ghanaian community in Brooklyn and has been one of the premier locations to watch the Black Stars in New York City.

Early on Saturday morning, fans crowded around the bar at Meytex next to framed photographs of noted Ghanaian and Pan-African luminaries such as Kwame Nkrumah, Haile Selassie, Kofi Annan, Bob Marley, Stephen Appiah, and William Jefferson Clinton to cheer on the Black Stars as they took on Cinderella-story Cape Verde while throwing back bottles of Guinness Foreign Extra.

Ghana’s defense looked shaky from the start but maintained its composure in the face of increasingly dangerous Cape Verdean attacks. After a rather uneventful first half, a controversial penalty kick was awarded when Asamoah Gyan went down in the box in the 51th minute and substitute Mubarak Wakaso coolly slotted it home.

The Ghanaians at Meytex cheered for Wakaso’s goal, but their enthusiasm was somewhat muted by their confidence, with at least forty vocal Brooklyn-based “assistant managers” jokingly offering tactical suggestions to the players and already talking up their chances for success in the final in a seamless blend of English and Twi.

The relaxed and jovial vibe of the crowd, perhaps facilitated by the early morning beers, was a fascinating counterpoint to the life-and-death seriousness of the Moroccans in Astoria and the Ivorians in Harlem from our Afcon-in-the-city travels last week.

After Ghana’s first goal, Cape Verde’s attack further grew in confidence as they threw numbers forward in hopes of an equalizer. Ghana’s defense again could barely keep up with the Blue Shark’s speedy wingers and were time and time again bailed out by man-of-the-match Ghanaian goalkeeper Dauda.

Then, with Cape Verde even sending their keeper forward on a corner in the dying minutes, Mubarak Wakaso found himself on a breakaway with an empty net and calmly put the match away to the victorious chanting of the Black Stars’ fans in Flatbush.

With the match settled, the live Ghanaian satellite feed immediately put on Obaa Yaa & Nana Perbi’s “Official Black Star Fire Song” (sponsored by the Ghana National Petroleum Corporation) as the waitress selected Hiplife mix CDs to keep the afternoon celebrations going. We settled our spicy peanut soup and fufu tab, thanked the owners, and told them we might be back for their upcoming Ghana Independence Day party.

* This post is co-written with Owen Dodd and Rob Navarro, who between the 3 of us also took the photos. A project started in a graduate class on global soccer taught by Sean Jacobs at The New School, we attempt to watch football across New York City and to blog about it at our tumblr, Global Soccer, Global NYC. These posts are crossposted here. Previous posts on watching Afcon 2013 at restaurants/bars in New York City–in Fort Greene, Astoria and Harlem–can be viewed here.

Watching the African Nations Cup with Ghana fans in Brooklyn’s Flatbush / Crown Heights

While the Ghanaian migrant community in New York City is centered in the Bronx, there is a smaller, yet equally as Afcon-enthusiastic population of Ghanaians in the Flatbush/Crown Heights neighborhoods of Brooklyn. Meytex Cafe on Flatbush Avenue is part social club, part Ghanaian restaurant, and part bar/party space that provides a social center for the Ghanaian community in Brooklyn and has been one of the premier locations to watch the Black Stars in New York City.

Early on Saturday morning, fans crowded around the bar at Meytex next to framed photographs of noted Ghanaian and Pan-African luminaries such as Kwame Nkrumah, Haile Selassie, Kofi Annan, Bob Marley, Stephen Appiah, and William Jefferson Clinton to cheer on the Black Stars as they took on Cinderella-story Cape Verde while throwing back bottles of Guinness Foreign Extra.

Ghana’s defense looked shaky from the start but maintained its composure in the face of increasingly dangerous Cape Verdean attacks. After a rather uneventful first half, a controversial penalty kick was awarded when Asamoah Gyan went down in the box in the 51th minute and substitute Mubarak Wakaso coolly slotted it home.

The Ghanaians at Meytex cheered for Wakaso’s goal, but their enthusiasm was somewhat muted by their confidence, with at least forty vocal Brooklyn-based “assistant managers” jokingly offering tactical suggestions to the players and already talking up their chances for success in the final in a seamless blend of English and Twi.

The relaxed and jovial vibe of the crowd, perhaps facilitated by the early morning beers, was a fascinating counterpoint to the life-and-death seriousness of the Moroccans in Astoria and the Ivorians in Harlem from our Afcon-in-the-city travels last week.

After Ghana’s first goal, Cape Verde’s attack further grew in confidence as they threw numbers forward in hopes of an equalizer. Ghana’s defense again could barely keep up with the Blue Shark’s speedy wingers and were time and time again bailed out by man-of-the-match Ghanaian goalkeeper Dauda.

Then, with Cape Verde even sending their keeper forward on a corner in the dying minutes, Mubarak Wakaso found himself on a breakaway with an empty net and calmly put the match away to the victorious chanting of the Black Stars’ fans in Flatbush.

With the match settled, the live Ghanaian satellite feed immediately put on Obaa Yaa & Nana Perbi’s “Official Black Star Fire Song” (sponsored by the Ghana National Petroleum Corporation) as the waitress selected Hiplife mix CDs to keep the afternoon celebrations going. We settled our spicy peanut soup and fufu tab, thanked the owners, and told them we might be back for their upcoming Ghana Independence Day party.

* This post is co-written with Owen Dodd and Rob Navarro, who between the 3 of us also took the photos. A project started in a graduate class on global soccer taught by Sean Jacobs at The New School, we attempt to watch football across New York City and to blog about it at our tumblr, Global Soccer, Global NYC. These posts are crossposted here. Previous posts on watching Afcon 2013 at restaurants/bars in New York City–in Fort Greene, Astoria and Harlem–can be viewed here. 

Stephen Keshi is Pure Gold

Post by Akin Adesokan

Whether or not the Super Eagles win the finals of Afcon 2013, there is a point that followers of Nigerian football everywhere should note—that Stephen Keshi’s ideas represent the best, indeed the future, of the sport that unifies the country even as it inevitably divides it. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the process that led to Keshi’s emergence as the Super Eagles’ coach should be studied carefully. It is Nigeria’s impossible rebirth writ small.

So, any attempt to “play politics” with Keshi’s tenure should be strongly resisted. Petition the Sports Minister. Crash Goodluck Jonathan’s Facebook page. Rally the out-of-job Okada “drivers” of Lagos for an angry protest. Re-Occupy Nigeria for something far more consequential than the Ostrich’s Dance of fuel subsidy removal.

Seriously.

It is near-impossible to get it right with the Eagles, largely because when it comes to football everyone, and I mean everyone in Nigeria, has got an opinion. (And here I am, otherwise in dread of blogging, venting mine.) Incidentally, in a BBC interview broadcast in the first week of the tournament, Keshi himself says something to the effect that every Nigerian is a football coach!

The last time the Super Eagles came close to the vibrancy of the current outing was when Christian Chukwu was the coach, like ages ago. Chukwu didn’t last because of the so-called “Nigerian Factor.” But Keshi is a more complete coach, equally gifted with the skills of a tactician and of a strategist, and his best quality is what has virtually disappeared from public life in Nigeria: a passion for professionalism. (I suspect he’s also boardroom-savvy.)

Keshi is a natural leader. If you are lucky to find any footage from the Eagles’ matches in the late-1980s when he was the team’s captain, you will have noticed that quality in him.

For me, his passion for professionalism was captured in an obscure statement he made in an interview with a sports reporter some time in 2000, in the lead-up to the 2002 World Cup. He said that, left to him, the guy who should be skippering the Eagles was the defender Rabiu Afolabi (who at the time was playing for the Italian team, SSC Napoli.) He spoke of Afolabi as a complete player, and an unusually level-headed one.  With a bright future.

The crucial phrase in Keshi’s statement was “left to him,” and it spoke to one of the most touchy issues in Nigeria—ethnic preference, alias tribalism. This was important. After the country’s best recent year (1994, when the Eagles won the AfCON and nearly crashed into the quarter-finals of the World Cup), everything started unraveling. In a sport running on teamwork, players started conspiring not to pass the ball to certain of their team-mates because they were from the wrong ethnic groups!

At the time, Keshi was a sort of John the Baptist. For a stint, he went to coach the Togolese national team.

In the event, Afolabi (who wore Keshi’s Number 5 jersey) made the team, but did not rise to lead it. And Nigeria’s outing in China was worse than atrocious. Afolabi’s career also hasn’t fared well, for reasons too complicated to put in this post, but which could be sought somewhere between the pages of  Frankling Foer’s book on football, the boardroom of the Nigerian Football Federation, and the player’s own choices. He played for Monaco until August last year, and he’s currently without a team.

Perhaps the “reversed extraversion” of global soccer, whereby the caps for the national team now counts for a player’s standing with the scouts, has something to do with Keshi’s ability to manage celebrity players like John Obi Mikel and Peter Odemwingie. But we have seen such players in action before, during the time of the Okochas, the Babayaros, the Kanus.

I would like to think that Keshi’s astute understanding of Nigeria and its football politics is the matchstick to the fire of the Eagles as it now burns. Long may it burn. No, scratch that—fat chance indeed. Long may Keshi hold his job.

Akin Adesokan is a writer and an academic.

How the Super Eagles out-thought Côte d’Ivoire

By Cheta Nwanze*

Una see dat ball? Humble pie is a very interesting confectionery. It is something that most people take very reluctantly, and tend to take in very small doses. With that in mind, you, dear reader, are on the front row seat to a Guinness World Record of sorts, the first man to eat a large serving of humble pie very willingly, and then ask for more. For good measure, I downed my humble pie with Coast Milk.

Una watch dat ball? Yesterday, those boys graduated to being SUPER!

See, if for the rest of your natural life you are looking for cojones, look no further than the Big Boss himself. Honestly, Stephen Keshi’s balls should be preserved in formaldehyde and placed in a glass jar for all to admire until the end of days. The truth is that the job of Papa Eagles’ coach is one of the worst places to be on the planet. What with a notoriously inefficient FA that constantly meddle in your business, and sports ministers who do not help issues by looking for white-skinned coaches in the middle of tournaments, to a country that has (give or take) 170 million other individuals who believe that they are better at your job than you, to silly writers who predict doom for your team before you have even kicked a ball, the man went ahead and dropped Osaze Odemwingie (who has since gone bonkers on Twitter, though he’s still showing his support for the Super Eagles) and Obefemi Martins (too busy goading Mario Balotelli while flying around on private jets with his sister) before the tournament, then went into yesterday’s game against Yaya Toure, with Sunday Mba in midfield, and 19-year old Ken Omeruo (picture above, number five) asked to man-mark Didier Drogba! Insanity.

But for those of you who watch footie on the regular, you’d know that Big Boss achieved that rarity in football where a game is won even before the ball is kicked. He got his tactics spot on. Deploying Emenike and Moses wide in a 4-5-1 and Man-Of-the-Match, Obi wan Kenobi at the base of the three man midfield was a decision of genius. What it meant was that despite the fact that a lot of people did not see Wan Kenobi during the game, the fact that Onazi and Mba were shielding him, gave him the room to play the regista role almost to perfection. A contender for Moment-of-the-Match was when he made that crucial block off of Lacina Traore with three minutes remaining. Meanwhile, both goals were things of beauty. Emenike’s thunderbolt was really orgasmic as displayed by Dan Amokachi in his celebration.

To cap the evening up, myself and Ebuka ended up being kicked out of Channels TV for over-celebrating.

Stealing into Canada under the cover of whiteness

By Melissa Levin

It was in Yeoville sometime in the 1990s that a ‘spook’ from South Africa’s now ruling party, the ANC, with whom I was acquainted began asking me questions about my father.  My family had migrated to Canada, which he knew, and he was asking questions like, “when,” and “was your dad ever in the SADF (the apartheid army)?” and “what does your dad do?”  It seemed rather odd to me (but then spies of any ideological persuasion are) until I picked up a copy of the weekly Mail & Guardian (I cant recall whether it was still known as the Weekly Mail).  And there, in black and white, was the answer to my puzzlement.  The paper was reporting on a rather nasty character, Dr Aubrey Levin, who had immigrated to Canada from South Africa.  He was known for his virulent racism and dedicated support to the National Party (as it was the party of Apartheid).  He was also foul in the administration of a technique of aversion therapy to ‘cure’ homosexuals of their ‘deviance.’  His cruelty towards conscientious objectors to the Apartheid army (all white males were conscripted) is the stuff of Truth and Reconciliation investigations.  He was employed as a psychiatrist in the apartheid army and evolved a reputation as Dr. Shock.  We share the same last name and religion.  He is old enough to be my father.  But thankfully I was blessed with a much better man to be my dad.

I was reminded of that encounter when I hear the news that Dr. Shock had just been sentenced to 5 years in prison for molesting court-appointed patients in his adopted home of Calgary, Canada.  How this man ever gained citizenship here, and how he was permitted to practice as a psychiatrist for the state nogal, is a scar on the immigration laws of this country.  Partly this was a function of Levin’s litigious tactic against any papers reporting on his past.  He had claimed that aversion therapy was accepted practice which was never undertaken without consent.  He made a similar claim in relation to his current sexual assault charges about how fondling his patients’ genitals was an accepted practice for erectile dysfunction.

The Canadian newspapers have hardly delved into his past in reporting on his case with the exception of a 2010 Globe and Mail article and, last week, an article in the Toronto Star.

In fact, some stories, without a hint of irony, reported on the arguments made in mitigation of his sentencing that “all the good the psychiatrist has done in his life has not been erased by the bad.”

None have asked how this person got past the immigration authorities and the Saskatchewan and Alberta medical boards.  An immigration board decision is currently under review for accepting the claim of refugee status for a white South African man.  And the Canadian government currently has billboards up in Hungary urging Roma not to apply for refugee status in the country.  Maybe the message is that we can all steal into this settler colony, under the cover of white.

New web series, ‘African Time,’ focuses on individual experiences of Africans living in the United States

The lightheartedly named African Time is a lovely new web series produced by the Waave + Dada artist collective.  Each short episode consists of a different individual discussing their individual experiences as Africans living in the United States.  There are no frills to speak of, with subjects speaking directly to the camera, usually in front of a black backdrop.  Yet, many of the characters and their anecdotes are captivating enough where it doesn’t seem to matter how bare bones the whole production is.  This is especially true for the episode (video above) entitled “Smiles and Popcorn,” in which the mother of one of the series’ creators, Mawuena Akyea, discusses her confusion with what she calls the ‘cut-and-paste smile’ of white America and the absurdity of the buckets of popcorn (and refills) available at American movie theaters.  More than anything else, Mrs. Akyea provides viewers with a unique and subtly biting analysis of some of the nuances of American culture.

Not all episodes hit the spot like the one with Akyea’s mom as well as that the middle aged immigrant from Sierra Leone talking about parenting. However, every episode offers insights into American culture that only outsiders and new Americans could provide.  And that’s the thing about the African Time web series: even though the intention may be to provide a glimpse into the lives of Africans in the US, it ultimately reveals more about American society, with all of its problems and idiosyncrasies.

Heroes of Afcon 2013: from DR Congo’s “bum shuffling” goalie to Ouwo Moussa Maâzou, the Nigerien striking sensation

The quarter finals are upon us, and this is where things get serious. The group stages were a joyous affair, and introduced all manner of characters (and hairstyles) to a global audience. We asked our team of contributors to choose their heroes of Afcon 2013 so far, the only rule being that they couldn’t pick a player from their own country. Enjoy, and post your own in the comments.  First up is Cheta Nwanze, who picked Cape Verde’s Heldon.

Cheta Nwanze: 

The player who has caught my eye in this tournament so far has been Cape Verde’s Heldon (image above). The attacking midfielder apparently plays his club footie for Maritimo in Portugal, hence his staying under the radar. I loved his performance from the bench against Angola despite having been dropped after the first game, and his reward, shooting Cape Verde into the quarters. How’s that for dedication?

Davy Lane: 

Football formations are increasingly the preserve of black-book-carrying high-priest-like technicians, overly encouraged by a chorus of statistical and zonal apostles.  It represents a shift in the strategic approach to football, from adventure to pre-emption. This is not intended to be dismissive of the tactical approaches prevalent in the modern game; there are plenty of interesting new paradigms for the neo purist, but for me the game was more fun when old school wingers danced down the line, teased their opponents and whipped crosses into the box like comets.  This is why Les Etalons (Stallions) Jonathan Pitroipa is the player of the tournament for me.  The upright man remains an old school, dyed in the wool, yellow dog winger.

Pitroipa is willowy, wiry and wispy, everything a winger should be.  It is a shame so few remain in modern football.  Many have no doubt had their instincts coached out of them, others have probably been deemed not physical enough.  The plaudits for Burkina Faso’s progression to the Quarter Finals have so far gone to Pitroipa’s very capable team mate, Alain Traoré, but behind every Traoré goal or much every significant attack by the Stallions, Pitroipa has been racing down the lines, cutting into the box, often releasing the near perfect pass or cross and generally making himself a nuisance, impossible to mark or hold down.  Pitroipa never gave up when Burkina Faso needed an injury time equalizer against Nigeria; he turned the disadvantage of his team being a man down against Ethiopia somehow to his team’s advantage running the Walya ragged, creating two goals and capping off the performance with a goal of his own; and he knew enough to translate his experience in the final first round group match against Zambia to run through the central channels and lead the line.  Do Togo have an old school full back who will know how to deal with him?  I doubt it.

Charles Mafa:   

Tresor Mputu (image above) from Democratic Republic of Congo is my man. A player who plies his trade for TP Mazembe back in Congo has great dribbling skills, he is a very good passer of the ball and his precision when shooting at goal is undoubted. He is also captain, chosen among all the great Congolese players who play in Europe.

Njabulo Ngidi: 

Asamoah Gyan and his teammates in Ghana always come up with some of the most creative goal celebrations in the Africa Cup of Nations. But this time around they were trumped by Muteba Kidiaba’s bum-shuffling celebration that has made the Democratic Republic of Congo’s goalkeeper an internet sensation. It’s not just the celebration that draws the attention to the keeper but his hairstyle or is it hairstyles all crammed into one. It’s a mohawk-come-dreadlocks that makes him standout.

When DRC scored the opening goal against Mali, in the group’s decider, in Durban the attention shifted quickly from the goal scorer to Kidiaba. He didn’t disappoint with a more refined bum-shuffling celebration than in the match against Ghana. It was sad when the Leopards were eliminated as they left with Kidiaba, his dance and hairstyle.

Sean Jacobs:

I would’ve gone for my homeboy Siyabonga Sangweni, defender at Orlando Pirates (“Once a Pirate …”), representing for Kwazulu Natal and two goal hero of Bafana. But the player I admire the most is Nigerian forward, Emmanuel Emeneke. Built like a bus and trailed by a match-fixing scandal at his previous club, Fenerbache, in Turkey (police ruled he he has nothing to answer for now, but he may still go to prison for it), and with a remarkable back story (his career took off after moving to South Africa’s second division), he has been the one constant in an otherwise lukewarm Nigerian team at Afcon 2013 (who may still surprise us). More recently he’s been on loan at Spartak Moscow where he scores a goal every other game, so much that it annoys the referees. He scored Nigeria’s first goal in the tournament (against Burkina Faso), then again in their second match against Zambia and may prove the difference when they play Cote d’Ivoire in a quarterfinal match Sunday.

Braden Ruddy: 

Appropriating the name of a legend is always risky business. Somehow, in the case of Luís Carlos Almada Soares, Cape Verde’s diminutive winger who plies his trade in the Portuguese 2nd Division and calls himself Platini, it works. He’s quick, skillful, a bit arrogant, and has been dangerous since the opener– even scoring the Blue Shark’s historic first Afcon goal.

With three goals to his name in the group stage, no one has struck the ball in a more aesthetically pleasing way than Alain Traoré. Possessing Thor’s hammer of a left foot, the Lorient attacking midfielder has been a constant threat and will surely see his stock surge after the tournament. You heard it hear first: Francophilic Newcastle’s next signing.

Jesse Shipley: 

My favorite live player — and I write this as I watch Algeria-Cote d’Ivoire play — has beenDidier Drogba, who I like for his confident, cool on-field leadership, the way he talks with players on his team, the other team, and the referees makes it seem that he is everyone’s respected older brother and future President of Cote D’Ivoire and head of the United Nations.

But my three favorite players who dont get enough attention are Steady Cam, Slo Mo, and Extreme Closeup. Keep your eyes on the two Steady cam operators, one on each end of the pitch and see their focus and attention; always ready on goal and for corner kicks. Slo Mo changes how we see every shot, foul, and acting job as an out-of-time masterpiece of control. Extreme Closeup is perhaps sometimes too exuberant with shots revealing badly trimmed sideburns but the amazing shots of the concentrating eyes of a player about to take a penalty with sweat dripping down quickly cut with extreme longshots of the field certainly shape how we see the personal energy and the big picture.

Elliot Ross: 



I was delighted when Niger qualified for their second Afcon finals because it meant seeing more of Ouwo Moussa Maâzou. This was our official farewell when the great man’s tournament came to an end, “Ode to Ouwo Moussa Maâzou, Nigerien striking sensation”:

So farewell then Ouwo Moussa Maâzou, Nigerien striking sensation.

Long of leg, short of sock, burly of chest and furious of face,

You wore Niger’s Number 2 and borrowed your socks from a small child.

Let nobody say that you were afraid to have a shot at goal.

Ouwo Moussa Maâzou, Nigerien striking sensation, you were born Offside and never left.

But now you must leave Afcon2013.