Africa Cup of Nations

The Africa Cup of Nations was underway before I arrived in Senegal, and this nation's support of its football team was visible everywhere. Giant ads for Babybel gouda featured an athlete with the brand's well-known cow - who was wearing the team's hat along with her earrings. Hawkers were selling jerseys on what felt like every street corner. And on game days, you always knew when Senegal had scored a goal - the city erupted in a cacophony of honking car horns, cheering and blasting vuvuzelas.

Following the quarter and semifinals, we enjoyed watching the neighbourhood celebrate from our balcony.

When the time came for Senegal to take on Morocco in the cup final, we knew we wanted to be out in the city among the fans. A group of us booked a table at a local restaurant, and we decked ourselves out in team colours and made our way across town. We had made a good call to plan in advance - paying 10.000 Central African Francs each to reserve seats that came with one free drink. The restaurant had a huge waitlist of hopefuls wanting to get in, and many of them had clogged up the stairs leading down to the patio. We had to squeeze our way through the masses to get to the holder of the guest list, then find our friends in a room packed with people. We settled in just as the sun began to set.

The game did not disappoint. The teams were evenly matched and the match remained scoreless at half time. During the break, a live DJ pumped up the volume on dance tunes and the crowd made the most of the party atmosphere, jumping and dancing, shouting and cheering - but the second play resumed, immediately silenced, eyes glued to the screen.

With minutes left in the game, Senegal scored and the place erupted with cheers and dancing.

A man at a nearby table leapt toward the pool in celebration - we were sure he was going in for a cannonball -  then suddenly slammed on the brakes. The referee had ruled out the goal. The crowd hissed its disapproval, then settled back into silence.

Moments later, the ref awarded Morocco a controversial - and in our opinion, highly questionable - penalty kick. Fourteen minutes of chaos ensued on screen. Fights nearly broke out on the field, with the coaches and players shouting at each other. The coach and several members of the Senegalese team walked off the field in protest - with the crowd around us proudly shouting out their support.  

In the end, in looked like Sadio Mané convinced them to return to the field, confident that they could prevent Morocco from scoring. And as the ref hadn't ceded victory to Morocco as a forfeit, play continued.

All alone in front of his net, Mendy prepared for Morocco's shot. You could have heard a pin drop as hundreds watched, holding their breath. People will be telling their grandkids about that night - Mendy made the save, the crowd erupted again, and the game went into extra time.

 

In the fourth minute of extra time, Idrissa Gueye sent the ball into Morocco's net and the crowd went wild. But this is no sudden death overtime - play continued with the crowd holding their breath, hands to their faces. And then, just like that, time was up and Senegal had won the Africa Cup of Nations!

We celebrated with the crowd for a few minutes, then started our treks home as quickly as possible. We knew the streets would be filling with celebrants - many in speeding cars and motorcycles, flags flying out the windows.

The restaurant was in a relatively quiet neighbourhood, and we got the chance to congratulate some Senegalese fans face to face. We spotted kids dancing in front of their homes with parents laughing proudly, and a few cars went by at a reasonable speed, heading to the party zone.

As we drew closer to the busier areas, we had to take more care on the streets, but could still clap and raise our fists with a "wooohooooooo!" as people screamed their delight from car windows and the backs of motorcycles. 

Then we reached the heart of the party and it started to feel a little dangerous to be on the roads. There are few sidewalks, which makes it challenging enough on a regular day. When people are so excited that they aren't paying close attention to the road, and there are hundreds taking to the street, it can be nerve-wracking. At one point, a car came zooming toward us and I had no where to go, with a parked car right beside me. I turned sideways to make myself as small as possible, and the car was literally inches from me as it passed, a friend gasping "Holy sh#t! Are you OK?!?"

Sticking to side roads, we continued to edge our way toward home, passing a huge traffic jam around Place de l'Independence. 

 

 
Close to home now, on quieter streets, we again relaxed enough to cheer with passing vehicles - and took a few shots from a water gun right in the face from an overzealous fan. But at last, we were tucked away inside and hearing the chaotic celebration from a distance, well into the wee hours of the morning. The President had declared a national holiday, and no one was wasting a minute on sleep!