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Dispatch: a series dedicated to immersive storytelling, where our photographers and writers journey to chosen places, combining evocative imagery with long-form editorials to uncover and share unique football cultures.



Pan-Africanism Beyond Celebration:
Our shortcomings this AFCON




WORDS AND PHOTOGRAPHY Sityana Abdu
April 3 2026

“We came to the stadium for the first time. Inshallah, Senegal will add another goal,” my Airbnb host in Tanger wrote to me while attending the Senegal–Mali Quarterfinal...

Before he told me he didn’t really care for football but wanted to participate in the festivities. At the end of the game, he sent a video of fans around him dancing to Youssou N’Dour’s iconic Beug na leen. Moments like this defined my experience; strangers turned allies at least for the time being. During my month in Morocco, I was exposed to peak hospitality and welcomed into the North African country. As the AFCON progressed and the final drew closer, the tournament's passionate fans introduced me to new alliances and divisions. I became used to walking around the medina, seeing the flags and jerseys of whoever was playing that day sold on the street. It didn’t matter that I was Ethiopian (well, Ethiopian-American) and my country wasn’t in the tournament - I was welcomed by fans regardless. Roundabouts were punctuated by the flags of all 24 countries playing, and of course, no store, street, wall, or car was complete without a Moroccan flag. 

Five days later, Senegal beat Egypt, securing their ticket to the final. The fans at Ibn Batuta Stadium naturally formed a parade into the streets. 12 Gaime, Senegal’s state-sponsored travel fan group, who were visible throughout their tournament for dancing at all of Senegal’s games and the eventual controversy at the final, brought the drums, dancing, and infectious vibes. We danced our way out of the stadium in a crowd of green, yellow, and red. I couldn't help but laugh seeing young Moroccans in the middle of drum circles with Senegalese fans, everybody celebrating the win. I thought the brotherhood between these two nations meant the final would end with a similar display of unity on the continent, illustrating how football unites us. The chants after Morocco's semifinal wins included Senegal, and the crowds that formed throughout the streets showed a mix of both flags. 


Earlier in the week, I met a Moroccan girl at the mosque, and we went for tea at Tangier’s iconic Cafe Hafa. When asked about AFCON, she told me, “The world is here in Tangier. I'm hearing languages I've never heard before.” Her words captured how I was feeling. This tournament brought exposure and interaction between the north, east, south, and west. Crowds formed to watch and celebrate the beautiful game, and leading up to the final, I was inspired by football's ability to advance Pan‑Africanism, a sort of nationalism for the African continent. 

But the events of the final and the discourse that followed revealed something else entirely. The chaos surrounding the AFCON 2025 final did not just expose regional tensions - it served the interests of institutions and narratives that benefit when Africans turn on each other. From European media eager to delegitimize African football to colonial‑era hierarchies that still shape intra‑African relationships/conceptualizations, the real winners of African infighting are those invested in undermining Pan‑African autonomy. The 2025 AFCON final between Senegal and Morocco must be understood as a political event with serious consequences beyond sport (as is historically the case with football). The reactions, both in person and online, revealed the game’s stakes in identity, politics, and who gets to define Africa. 

Online Hostility vs. In‑Person Reality

Continental accusations of corruption against Morocco and the Senegalese Football Federation’s grievances about unfair treatment set the stage for a controversy and delegitimizing final. But, watching from the Rabat fan zone, the majority-Moroccan crowd urged everyone to be silent and honored the Senegalese anthem, and, of course, my ears rang after “Allah, Al-Watan, Al-Malak (God, Nation, King)” punctuated the Moroccan national anthem. 
Just around the corner lies one of Tbilisi’s largest open-air markets, where you can find anything from onions and eggs to replica football shirts and miniature Lada Nivas, the iconic car of the former Soviet Union. In recent years, these have begun to disappear from the Georgian capital, replaced mostly by newer Japanese models, many of them right-hand drive.

The calls throughout the game were questionable, but it all broke down in stoppage time. Ismaïla Sarr scored a goal that was disallowed, and almost immediately after, Brahim Diaz was awarded a penalty. Wearing a Senegalese jersey and a flag, the fans around me asked if I thought the call was a penalty. For the sake of banter, I said no. We filled the game’s 20‑minute delay time with small talk, not knowing there were fights in the stadium. The thousand or so Moroccans went quiet once Diaz missed his PK, and quieter for Papa Gueye’s 94th‑minute winner. The rain started to fall on us, dampening the end of a joyous tournament for the host nation. The first tweet I saw on my phone was along the lines of “If you’re black in Morocco, get on a plane and get out.” As I waited under cover for a taxi, a group of Moroccan boys asked to take a picture with me and my Senegal flag, sharing their "felicitations" for the win. 

Some may argue that Senegal didn’t win fairly, but fair is subjective. When the referee’s calls go against your team, it feels as though an injustice was done to your country. The final held immense emotional weight; it felt like a contest not only for the best African football team, but for who gets to represent “real” Africa. A Senegal win became, for many, a win for Sub‑Saharan African authenticity, a win that kept them in reach of Morocco. A championship for Morocco would’ve added to the growing distance [with the continent?]. As the celebrations left Rabat and headed into Dakar, outlets amplified the spectacle with headlines hinting at chaos and controversy. The drama was an opportunity for sports journalists in Europe to look down on the tournament and the continent. Before AFCON even began, Jamie Carragher dismissed it as “not a major tournament,”  showing how European voices belittle African football. 

Yet the most damaging fallout wasn’t the European commentary; it was how Africans spoke about each other online. In the hours and days following, Senegalese fans were called savage, and Moroccans were called wannabe Europeans. Forward Yasser Zabiri posted that the rest of Africa doesn’t deserve Morocco. Some outlets claimed a stadium steward was killed by Senegalese fans, followed by comments calling them animals. French media reported that Sub‑Saharan African businesses across Morocco were attacked. The General Directorate of National Security (DGSN) denied both claims, but the damage was done. The rumors fit too neatly into old colonial scripts to be ignored. 

As the narrative spiraled, North African exceptionalism and demeaning stereotypes about Sub‑Saharan Africans dominated the discourse, despite Morocco hosting the month‑long tournament and welcoming the continent to their country. Granted, the conditionality of that hospitality is worth questioning, but the violence and prejudice that external media sought to make true exist in subtler ways. The dissonance is quieter, caught in taxi conversations or with shop vendors, and the underlying/subconscious prejudices embedded in these countries. Too quickly, racist tropes resurfaced, and colonial vocabulary revived. The online narrative became the global narrative, and algorithms reward extremes. The unity was real, the hostility was real, but only one was amplified globally. 

“Things are no longer cancellable - people felt more entitled because everyone is agreeing on a certain anger,” shared Yousef, one of five members of the youth collective Dartdachabab in Marrakech, describing how the sense of being wronged by the Senegalese team and fans fueled prejudiced comments. The group hosted a public roundtable after the final, discussing how the match had surfaced underlying racism and pointing to the structural issues that deepen division, such as the lack of direct flights to most African capitals like Bamako, Mali, while cheaper, shorter flights to Paris remain abundant. Visas add another unnecessary barrier for Africans hoping to visit one another; Morocco’s decision to waive e‑visa fees during the tournament showed how easily these systems can be disrupted. Colonial-era infrastructure still shapes our mobility; it remains easier to reach Europe than to reach one another, which is why a tournament like AFCON becomes more important to facilitate Pan-African encounters.

African division reinforces stereotypes of African dysfunction and colonial hierarchies still shape our interactions and identities. The rupture revealed how quickly continental unity collapses when national pride is threatened. This is where the limits of Pan‑Africanism become visible. 



Nationalism and AFCON History
​
Pan‑Africanism is a form of nationalism for an imaginary African nation, but it competes with country‑based nationalism, and we witnessed the limitations of the latter. It seemed more impactful that Morocco lost than that Senegal won. The continental “we” that felt so present in the medinas and fan zones began to crack the moment national pride was threatened. The final exposed the fragility and political vulnerability of celebration-based unity. 


The discouraging end to the tournament reminded me of the purpose of AFCON, and I want to bring that to the forefront. A political project in response to exclusion and discrimination, AFCON represents Africa's aspirations for unity and excellence. It was founded in 1957 by Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt and South Africa and was revolutionary for its time; a tournament of African nations with only 8 independent countries! But, from its inception, AFCON struggled to prove itself worthy to FIFA, football’s main body, dominated by European leadership and priorities. 


Football became an important tool during the initial decolonization era to build the identity and pride of African nations. Ghana’s Kwame Nkrumah staged football matches between newly independent African nations, giving Africans a tangible aspect of identity to participate in. But nationalism and football’s relationship ebbed and flowed due to the game’s “paradoxical ability” to unite and divide us. In this tournament, we saw football foster a strong sense of nationalism and pride in one's nation, but when things went wrong, these feelings too easily turned to xenophobia. 

Morocco’s historical pull toward Europe resurfaced, even as the country hosted the African Cup of Nations. The many West Africans who have built lives in Morocco feared retaliation; it didn’t matter whether they were Senegalese or not. Morocco’s loss punctured the bubble of hospitality, one of the strongest expressions of Pan-Africanism felt throughout the tournament. The global and online reactions that followed showed how vulnerable our unity remains. While we reenact the colonial playbook on one another, the external gaze remains unchanged; the Spanish FA’s quick dismissal of Morocco’s capacity to host the 2030 World Cup Final shows how readily others capitalize on our fractures. 



A Pan-Africanism beyond symbolic unity and waving flags requires resisting internal prejudice and Western manipulation. We must still shape the story and not turn on one another when things fall apart. While the historical hierarchies and current racism are important to acknowledge, fixating on sensationalism without working towards/imagining something better will not move us forward. The continent’s unity depends on a solidarity that exists outside of celebration. Without it, Africa’s political and cultural autonomy remains vulnerable.  

I wrote this article in the weeks following the final. I was frustrated by the discourse and silly things like the towels getting in the way of a collective Africa. On March 18th, CAF announced an unprecedented decision: the trophy won by Senegal would be awarded to Morocco because, upon leaving the field, Senegal had forfeited the game. The decision, made 2 months after the final whistle, not only delegitimizes African football on the world stage but also further divides its fanbase. It is disappointing that CAF’s living legacy will be one of corruption and division, not the Pan-Africanism its founders intended. We must hold our institutions to higher standards, and we can’t be looking for reasons to hate each other. —




Sityana Abdu is a senior at Yale University studying Global Affairs. She attended AFCON 2025 in Morocco with the hope of understanding football’s role in furthering pan-Africanism and nationalism on the African continent. She is interested in football as a lens into geopolitics and an accessible medium for encountering national identity, regional rivalries, and unhealed colonial resentments. She is interested in ideas of belonging and identity and is hoping to potentially continue this research for her senior thesis.  
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