Africa Cup of Nations, the magic of a single night
The decisive goal in the men's Africa Cup of Nations could be scored by a boy born in Terrassa: Ismael Saibari. This Sunday night, Senegal and Morocco will play a first-ever final in this competition, which began in 1957 when only three countries were independent. Today, as then, the Africa Cup of Nations serves to illustrate what is happening on the continent.
Senegal and Morocco have lived up to expectations, having been considered favorites at the start of the competition. Morocco reached the semifinals of the last World Cup in Qatar in 2012 and became the first African team to reach the quarterfinals. Senegal will play in its third Africa Cup of Nations final since 2019 and bids farewell to the leader of this generation, Sadio Mané, who has announced that this will be his last Africa Cup of Nations. Morocco is the host nation and hasn't won the competition in fifty years; Senegal won its first title in 2012 in Cameroon.
Both teams are emblematic of a growing phenomenon in African football: the presence of diaspora players who bolster the squads of players born in African countries. Virtually half of each team's roster was born outside the country they represent. Morocco's star, Brahim Díaz, was born in Málaga in the year 2024 He said he didn't know how to speak Arabic. Eleven Senegalese players were born in France and have never played for any Senegalese club. Increasingly, success in the Africa Cup of Nations is more closely linked to the number of players who come from the top European leagues. When South Africa—with very few players in European competitions—was eliminated a few days ago, the team's coach, the Belgian Hugo Broos, went claim to encourage their players to leave South Africa and go to European clubs.
The strategy of Senegal and Morocco
Senegal and Morocco have been implementing this plan flawlessly for years, and in a more or less organized manner: virtually all their players play in Europe, and those who left Africa did so very young, often through academies designed to export talent. Morocco trains them at the Mohamed VI Academy, from which five players on the squad have emerged, including Azzedine Ounahi, who plays for Girona this season. In Senegal, with a weaker club football system, Generation Foot has an agreement with the French club Metz, which has the right to take their best players in exchange for infrastructure investments. As many as six players on the Senegalese squad came from there. Both cases exemplify the countries: Morocco, controlled by an all-powerful monarchy that, through football, tries to connect with an increasingly restless youth; Senegal, in a relationship with France that it never quite manages to break free from, always with the feeling of receiving only a very small share of the benefits. Behind the power of both teams lies a bittersweet reality: succeeding in life means going to Europe, and the diaspora – in football and in the economy – serves to cover the structural deficiencies of both countries.
In Catalonia, the final will be followed with great interest in the outskirts of cities like Mataró, Girona, Lleida, Granollers, and Barcelona. For people from the African diaspora living in Europe, seeing players born in neighborhoods and cities like their own strengthens their connection to the African national teams. Even people with little or no interest in football end up, at some point, in front of the television shouting, jumping, or crying. Nobody wants to miss this rare opportunity, this collective spell—a mirage—for a single night: seeing the names of the countries they left behind associated with success.