Jul 1, 2026

World cup and humiliation of former colonizers

Amir, my nephew, is a diehard football fan in every sense of the word. His loyalty to European teams is unshakable, to the point that he proudly displays his allegiance by wearing hats and jerseys from clubs and famous football players. 

In this World Cup, he supports Argentina, France, and Spain. He is in middle school and knows most of the players and great details about them, which I greatly admire, since I barely know a few famous players.

During my visit here in Calgary, we watched a few games live with the help of a VPN to bypass the paywall; otherwise, we would have had to pay $85 to corporations that monopolize the live broadcast of games, driven by insatiable greed and an endless hunger for more power. The plotocrats who have no shortage of ways to entertain themselves, and yet, with breathtaking audacity, they want to turn the only entertainment accessible to the poor, requiring nothing more than a ball, into yet another opportunity to extract profit. Of course, let's not forget that FIFA itself has become a mafia-like organization for allowing all of this to happen. Anyway.

Amir asks me, "Uncle, why don't you support France, Spain, and Argentina?"

"Why should I support them, azizam (my dear)?" I ask.

"Because in those teams, there are stars. For example, Mbappe, Lamine Yamal, and Messi," he answers, with a sense of seriousness.

"Uh-huh."

"Do you know why I am not a fan of all these powerful European teams?"

"No," he answers.

"When a small team from a small, poor African nation confronts a powerful European team and wins the game, there is a thrill."

"What is the thrill?" he asks.

"The humiliation of the strong team."

"Uh-huh."

"There is another reason why I enjoy their humiliation," I add, wanting to give him a historical reason why I support soccer teams of small nations from the global south.

"What is it?" he asks.

"That's a historical issue. For example, look at Cape Verde. It has a population of nearly 500,000. It was a Portuguese colony for more than 500 years, until 1975," I respond.

"Or look at Ghana. It was a British colony until 1957. Yesterday, the former British colonial team couldn't score against Ghana's team. That's an insult in itself."

"So what?" he asks with a tinge of visible frustration in his voice, indicating maybe he is not convinced.

"The humiliation of the former colonial power is a kind of revenge."

"Ah."

"What is a colonial [country]?" he asks.

"Chim dayee - eyes of uncle!" I continue. "A colonial country is the one with a big military that colonizes another country. It is called colonization. It means that a powerful country invades and occupies your homeland by force, steals and exploits its natural resources, takes away your freedom, and oppresses you in any shape or form it wants, and you can't ask why."

"That's why, when those soccer teams from smaller nations encounter European teams and stop them from winning, or sometimes even beat them, I feel like they're taking some kind of revenge, because the mighty team is humiliated. That's what matters."

As our gaze locks on the TV screen, our eyes tracking the ball being kicked from side to side by the players, I notice that Amir is silent, as if lost in thought. I don't know if he's thinking about the game or about the things we've just discussed.