Next Sunday, the two most powerful teams in African football will meet in the final of the Africa Cup in Abidjan (Ivory Coast).
Almost 6,000 kilometers away, in Madrid, a group of African asylum seekers will also compete, like every afternoon, to win the particular soccer tournament they organize on the courts of the Parque de la Gavia, in the Ensanche de Vallecas.
The majority, asylum seekers, were transferred to a nearby hostel by the authorities after spending weeks overcrowded at the Madrid-Barajas airport in unsanitary conditions.
Football serves as an escape route for them these days, while they wait with uncertainty for the resolution of their case.
Abdulah, fake name to protect his anonymity), 18-year-old Somali, arrived in Spain in November, spent 25 days at the airport and was transferred to the hostel at the beginning of this year.
He is clear: he does not want to spend much more time in administrative limbo.
“We have been in this situation for months.
I have a lot of ambition: I want to start a new life and contribute something to Spain, but I can't,” he says.
His agenda, like that of the dozens of migrants who share his routine, is practically empty.
“While our requests are being resolved, this little time in which we play football is all we have.”
Every afternoon, starting at 3:30 p.m., the teams are organized according to nationality and language.
The match is played in English, French and Wolof (a language spoken, above all, in Senegal and Gambia), and the thirty players come from Somalia, Senegal, Mauritania, Mali and Morocco.
Before starting, some warm up and others retire to a corner of the field to pray — the majority are Muslims.
They are the only ones present in the sports venue and the atmosphere before the game is a party.
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When asked about their journey in Barajas, everyone smiles ironically, as if it were a traumatic memory that they prefer not to talk about.
Although they agree that the arrival of migrants represents a challenge for the Spanish authorities - to whom they are grateful - they agree in describing the scenes experienced as "chaotic" or "disgusting."
They arrived with the expectation that everything would be easier, and they found themselves trapped for three weeks inside the airfield in conditions described as “degrading” by the Ombudsman.
“It was like a prison.
We couldn't go out on the street, we couldn't shower, people slept on the floor and we didn't know what was going to happen to us.
Although we could call our families, our cell phones were confiscated.
There is too much uncertainty,” explains Abdulah.
Some of the migrants gathered in the Parque de la Gavia pray in the direction of Mecca before playing football.Santi Burgos
His colleagues are reluctant to talk to strangers.
“For us, any wrong word or gesture is equivalent to a red card.
We don't want them to kick us out of the country,” admits Youssuf (also fake name), born in Senegal 23 years ago.
Abdulah, however, is outgoing and has no problem exposing his problems.
“My dream was always to be a writer and tell stories about the suffering of our people.
After what we have been through, we have to explain reality to people.
Those who criticize immigration today may have to migrate tomorrow, because God only guarantees that we are here today,” he points out.
The process of applying for international protection is long and tedious, but in recent months there has been an unprecedented increase that has forced the Government to expand the spaces at the Madrid airport to accommodate more migrants.
Spanish legislation determines that the duration of the itinerary in general cannot exceed 18 months, a period in which the recipients go through different phases.
At the moment, the entire group is in the first phase of their asylum application —initial assessment and referral—, before which they can only wait.
This first procedure, which they refer to as “level zero”, has been resolved favorably in about three months in the cases of other migrants whom they met in Barajas, according to what they hope.
Afterwards, if accepted, they would enter the autonomy phase, in which they would receive Spanish classes and professional training courses with the aim of finding a job and accommodation, and with the goal of regularizing their situation and remaining in Spain.
Abdulah is eager to learn Spanish and can't stop asking questions about his new country.
He urges him to find a house, meet his neighbors and create a community.
He doesn't know much about Spain, but so far what has surprised him most is that there is a King and a president simultaneously.
"As?
So there are two governments?
I don't understand,” he points out between laughs.
His priority is to find a job to be financially independent.
Then he will come, trust, the house, meet his neighbors and create a community.
And finally, find a neighborhood soccer team to make friends.
“We Somalis don't play football well because we don't eat good food.
Just rice and pasta, hardly any protein.
Here I am eating better than ever,” he says.
Next Sunday, Nigeria, South Africa, the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the Ivory Coast will lift the scepter of African football.
For an hour and a half, the luckiest people on the continent will pause their lives and stare at the television.
Probably, none of the asylum-seeking boys who make up the group will be able to watch the game from Spain;
but they have a clear plan for Sunday afternoon: at the usual time, and in the usual place.
You will only need one ball.
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