World Cup
From Morocco’s class to Cape Verde’s miracle: the World Cup turns African
For the first time, nine African nations have reached the knockout stage of the World Cup, with Cape Verde securing their place after a 0-0 draw against Uruguay in Rotterdam early on Saturday. The milestone marks a historic shift in African football’s standing on the global stage.
The surge reflects broader progress across the continent, where increased investment and the influence of the African diaspora in Europe are reshaping perceptions. Experts point to structural improvements in governance, facilities, and player pathways as key drivers of this evolution.
The expansion of the tournament to 48 teams has also played a role, doubling the number of African participants compared to previous editions. This has directly increased the continent’s chances of qualification, with nations like South Africa, Morocco, Senegal, and Ghana among those advancing.
Journalist Edwin Schoon, who documented African football for his book *De Macht van de Bal*, highlights the stark contrast between past and present. He recalls the 1974 World Cup, where Zaïre became the sole African representative and suffered a 9-0 defeat to Yugoslavia—a result that long shaped Western views of African football.
Schoon interviewed Ndaye Mulamba, Zaïre’s all-time top scorer at the 1974 Africa Cup of Nations, who worked as a parking attendant in Cape Town. Mulamba described the exploitation of players under dictator Mobutu, including unpaid tournament bonuses and threats tied to results, before fleeing to South Africa after being shot in the leg over a prize dispute.
The current generation of African footballers faces none of those obstacles, Schoon argues. He points to the CAF’s growing financial power, including lucrative broadcasting deals and FIFA partnerships, as a catalyst for change. “There is now far more money flowing into African football,” he says.
Belgian coach Tom Saintfiet, who has led multiple African national teams, emphasizes the role of diaspora players in modern African squads. “Morocco’s team is built not just from players born in Morocco, but from Molenbeek, Madrid, Montpellier, and Leiden,” he notes. “This brings different skills and experiences to the national team.”
Saintfiet also credits CAF’s stricter stadium regulations, which require facilities to meet standards or risk losing home advantage. “Gambia has played its home matches abroad for five years because its stadiums didn’t meet requirements,” he says. “These rules force improvements and make it more attractive for players to represent their ancestral nations.”
The diaspora’s influence extends beyond Morocco. Antoine Semenyo, born in London and now a Manchester City forward, represents Ghana, while players of Congolese descent—some with no ties to DR Congo—have bolstered the national team’s competitiveness.
Saintfiet believes the expanded World Cup format has further legitimized African football’s ambitions. “Players used to ask, ‘What do I gain by playing for Gambia or Mali?’ Now, with more African teams qualifying, the choice is clearer—and the success of Cape Verde proves even smaller nations can compete,” he says.
Schoon’s upcoming reissue of *De Macht van de Bal* will shift focus from past hardships to the continent’s progress. “The narrative is changing,” he says. “It’s no longer just about survival—it’s about opportunity.”