Burkina Faso (Part 1)

Burkina Faso was a milestone program for Around the Worlds. Not only was it set to be our final set of programming for 2021, which was a difficult year in and of itself, it was an event six years in the making. On top of all of this, it was country number 50 for our organization. Since our creation in 2015, 50 countries have welcomed our curriculum into the lives of their children and community members. If you had asked me in 2015 if one day our programs would be spread across more than one quarter of the entire world, I would’ve never believed you.

I tried not to think too much about the milestone, knowing very well it would invoke a lot of emotions if dwelled on for too long. Instead, just like the 184 programs prior, I placed all my focus on the kids and their experience. How could we alter our current curriculum to make them feel more comfortable? How could we tailor the program to their needs so that they might have the best possible experience?

The answer to the first question was quite simple, but more so in theory rather than in practice. How to make the kids more comfortable? Easy. Run the program in French.

This was nothing new to be quite honest. We’ve held French-speaking programs in several countries including Senegal, France, and Belgium. Throughout most of those events, I was assisted by a volunteer or a translator to throw me a lifeline in case I needed one.

I was far less confident that there would be one this time around, and decided it would be best to prepare and be surprised rather than not be prepared and suffer the consequences. As a result, my nights were filled tapping into the corners of my brain-space. I took six years of French lessons in grade school. I jotted down key phrases from all our drills, and translated them from memory or through the help of Google. I repeated them one by one until each stuck, and moved from there. My accent slowly came back, but it was more than clear that it needed work.

“Just try your best, the kids will understand,” reassured my friend, Leevaid.

I leaned on him for support and he was gracious enough to translate any phrases I needed help with, while proofreading the ones I’d already gone through. By day, we would practice conversing in French over meals. By night, I would stay up until the early morning, practicing for our sessions. I was battling jet lag, but still it was worth it. 

As far as pre-program prep and jitters go, this time was surely like no other. Then you add the anxiety and nerves of hitting a huge milestone. To put it quite simply, it was a lot.

Finally, the day of the first program was here. I was still jet lagged, but I had plenty of energy to push through the 90 degree African sun beating down. We were set to work with a large foundation by the name of AMPO. I was in touch with my contact, Denis, and his excitement to welcome a collaboration had certainly rubbed off on me in the days leading up to our first session.

He was willing to do anything to make the partnership come to life for AMPO as well as the kids.

“Ok, my dear Stephen, we have four centers, each with 100 kids. But what we can do is select the football players from each center, around 10 per team, and have you train them. Because I think this would be of tremendous value for us to welcome at all our centers, not just one,” he said.

“Perfect with me, Denis, I’ll set aside all the equipment now” I told him excitedly.

Alas, it was time to work with the boys and all my attention was on my French or lack thereof! I was introduced to both coaches and then quickly took a minute to introduce myself to the players. I designated a captain, one of the older boys from the gold team. I stumbled through explanations for our active listening drill before realizing I had never actually practiced or learned parts of the body in French.

The coach stepped in for a few rounds and then the captain took over, to bail me out. After, we broke into two grids with one team in each, to work on ball control techniques like volleys, thigh and chest control, followed by headers. They were pros and had buttery soft touches on the ball.

After, we moved to our program’s mainstay, albeit with different commands this time around – mains ou tete or mano o cabeza. The kids smiled and laughed joyously as the competition heated up, hoping they might go the full distance and win a prix. By the end, we had two winners after three rounds.

Next, we moved to our one on one attacking drill. Let me tell you, these kids were majorly talented and they had style. Nutmegs all over the place, juggling the ball over each others’ heads and more. It was surely a spectacle. I retreated to the side as to not embarrass myself, preferring to enjoy the drill from the capacity of a lead trainer rather than participant. There were nearly 30 other boys surrounding the field, cheering and pushing the boys to compete even harder.

I called one out of the crowd to play goalkeeper for us, and he willingly and excitedly obliged, thrilled at the thought of audience participation. With drills all wrapped up, it was time to pass out new soccer balls and custom Burkina Faso flag-themed bracelets to our participants.

Having prepped for a larger group and having 13 soccer balls for 10 participants, I called the boy who volunteered to play keeper over and his eyes lit up. I passed him a soccer ball and he retreated back to the crowd with a smile on his face. Denis and the teams’ coaches had set aside some Haribo berry candies for the participants to enjoy as well. Bags of them stacked next to each other, under pieces of paper labeled for best defender, best attacker, best goalkeeper, prize winners and more. For these winners, they’d be receiving two bags of sweets.

Afterwards, with each player now having a ball, I broke into a freestyle lesson – teaching kids how to perform a neck stall, but going further than that to do a few push-ups with the ball balancing on their neck. One by one, I explained the directions in French and cheered them on from afar. A few older boys were more than capable and perfectly mimicked me, while others were still in the practicing stage. I stood next to a younger boy, slowly walking him through each step. With the ball attached to his neck, I dropped to my knees by his side and said we would go together.

“Un” I said,

“Deux”

“Trois” as we both completed a third push-up.

I applauded excitedly and saw a smile brandish across his face. The conditions were different. The stories, too. The climate and the language were mostly foreign to me. But the joy and the smiles are universal. Those were the same as the 49 countries before and for the 49 to come. For that, I am thankful.