Wednesday, July 20, 2022
After the conclusion of our season in June, I spent two weeks in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). It was eye-opening, exciting, impactful, and at times, crazy.
But before I get to the crazy, let me tell you about what I was doing there.
Outside of football and writing, I work for a sport for development non-profit called Coaches Across Continents (CAC). For more than a year now, I’ve been a part of their Choice For Women team which houses all of their women-centered programming. My day-to-day work with them ranges from managing their marketing, writing grants and newsletters, maintaining relationships with partners, and strategic planning– all of which get done from the confines of my room.
My trip to the DRC was on first on-field experience with CAC. For the majority of my time, I lead trainings on Sexual Reproductive Health and Rights (SRHR) and Gender-Based Violence (GBV) Prevention at the Malaika Community Center in Kalebuka as part of Choice For Women’s global initiative to address gender equality. We used what CAC calls Purposeful Play (i.e., sport/games/play) to teach community leaders about SRHR and GBV Prevention who will then go on to lead sessions in their communities, aspiring to impact hundreds of youth across the country.
You might think adults wouldn’t be that excited to get outside and play games all day, but the folks we worked with were incredibly enthusiastic! Our cohort had so much energy– we danced and chanted and laughed together every day. There is something really powerful about experiential learning and using play to spark dialogue and introduce concepts. This looked like a game of tag where taggers represent a sexually transmitted disease and the safe area represents a condom. This looked like a game of soccer or handball where scoring a goal symbolizes pregnancy and goalkeepers symbolize different types of contraception. Each game was designed to stimulate discussion and incorporate participants’ ideas and solutions.
During the week we touched on topics such as reproduction, family planning, contraception, HIV/STI protection, reproductive rights, stereotyping, inclusion, opportunity, power dynamics, and safe choices. For many participants, this was their first time broaching some of these subjects. Fortunately, we were able to create a safe environment for participants to ask questions about stereotypically taboo topics. I was able to correct misconceptions participants held about reproduction, contraception, and female athletes. Interestingly enough, the men in our cohort were more accepting of women in sport, and it was the women who were more apprehensive. Most of the women had played soccer when they were younger but eventually stopped because of pressure from their community. They were told playing soccer would make them infertile, turn into a boy, lose their virginity, lose their breasts, etc. I gladly busted those myths!
Outside of our SRHR and GBV Prevention trainings, I spent the majority of my time running soccer sessions with coaches and players– including girls from the Malaika School and boys from the surrounding village. In the DRC there is no public education. Parents either have to come up with the money for school fees or their children sit at home all day– or for many– at the local football pitch. I coached many boys who had little to no formal education, where football is one of the few pathways to a better life.
Malaika is a tuition-free private school for girls founded by international supermodel Noella Coursaris Munsunka. Noella, who is Congolese and Cypriot was born in the DRC but raised in the UK after her father died. Noella’s mother, like most congolese women, had no education and could not support her. This reality fueled Noella’s desire to create opportunities for girls and women in her home country. E-meeting Noella and being welcomed by the administrators at Malaika was incredibly inspiring and further cemented my passion for empowering Black girls.
Interacting with the girls at Malaika was the highlight of my trip. The young ones couldn’t speak English, but the older girls were able to converse with me. They taught me some French, shared their aspirations, asked me tons of questions, danced with me, and together, we even sang a few songs (my favorite being Feliz Navidad).
In the DRC there is no public education. Parents either have to come up with the money for school fees or their children sit at home all day– or for many– at the local football pitch.
I tried sugar cane, michopo, congolese-style grilled goat, and ate a fish head– all of which were delicious. I watched T.P. Mazembe play, one of the best football teams on the continent. I saw the faces of Messi and Ronaldo everywhere. And the amount of American college and professional sports paraphernalia might have even topped that of European football clubs.
Some of the crazy moments included: having my passport held hostage at the airport, unintentionally locking myself in the bathroom, and getting stuck in a traffic jam during our commute to school (mind you, there were no traffic lights, no rules of the road, no vehicle safety regulations, and huge potholes). I bathed using buckets of boiled water, I went days without seeing a white person (though, most days I did see an albino person), and in the mornings I had to wear a jacket because it was quite brisk.
In line with the stereotypical image of Africa, there were starving children in the villages with little access to clean, running water. However, I, unstereotypically never felt unsafe. I met an older British woman named Allison who was there teaching English. She told me she goes on walks by herself and has never felt in danger. In fact, one time when she was lost without cellphone data strangers let her make calls on their phone while pointing her in the right direction.
Like the girls taught me to say while greeting someone new: Enchanté, Congo. It was nice meeting you.
