Female striker breaks gender barriers on Botswana soccer field

Botswana is a developing country. This is the third world. Holes for pipes are dug by men, women sweep the streets with handmade brooms, drinking and driving is commonplace and my hairdryer needs three adapters to access Botswana power. This is a developing nation.

This perspective changes when you throw a soccer…err football into the mix. Canada is behind when it comes to the elegant game of footie.

Soccer is the World’s game. As my dad always said, “anyone can play, you just have to be able to run.” And it’s true. Almost anyone, anywhere has the ability to play and they do!

This is true in Botswana, in Spain – the recent World Cup champions and even in Grand Falls-Windsor, where I spent much of my youth on the Centennial Field soccer pitch. The skills I learned in GFW gave me the ability to play the game on foreign soil.

There’s a peaceful feeling as I walk into Gaborone Club just minutes past six. The sun is setting, the field lights are slowly illuminating and I can see faint clouds of dust each time I press my foot to the ground.   

I’m nervous.

“Bonolo said I could come here to play soccer…”

I’m the only female on the field and I know these men are curious about my intentions.

“You’re on the red team.”

I introduce myself to my teammates and take position as a striker, or ninth position, as they call it here. Names are exchanged, and minutes later I can barely remember any. It doesn’t matter, something has shifted. It’s not about my name, my education, the color of my skin or my gender. It’s about playing soccer. Having fun. And respect is gained through quick plays and smart moves.

The energy is building and I begin to experience the camaraderie.

“Hey Bjorn, if you were on the red team, we’d trade you!”

Jokes and laughs and I notice myself drifting back to the days of carrying on with boys in GFW.  I’m at home on this field.

“Sarah!”

The ball is on my foot now. A quick pass to the far left and a tap back puts me in perfect scoring position. I use my right instep to slip one past the keeper and the thrill of scoring on a new field is glorious!

Training is on Wednesday and games are played on Friday. Shaka is the captain and he calls the shots. The whites of his eyes are wide and hold an authority much like a shark – making it easy for me to remember his name.

“So, can I play on Friday, Shaka?”

He is confused and nervous about the response. “Well you see, ladies who play could get hurt.” This sounds like something I’ve heard before and I’m ready with a quick response.

“I have skills Shaka, I can hold my own.”

“Be here at six on Friday. You’ll play.” My smile stretches from ear to ear and Shaka knows I’m serious about being part of the team.

The team, Gabs Club FC, is truly international. Sean from Nambia, Bonolo from Botswana, Chris from America, Yates from Zimbabwe, Yari from Denmark , Nigel from Australia, Dan from England, Damir from Croatia, Ezra from Tanzania and now Sarah from Canada.

My brother, John-Paul, noticed the same phenomenon while playing in Bermuda. People from all over the world come together on anything that resembles a soccer field. People with different backgrounds, different cultures, different ideas and identities but they all have one thing in common – love for the universal game of footie.

The games here are spectacular. I’m not talking about what’s happening on the field either. The quality is good, short passes, quick plays, skilled moves. But what’s really exciting is the surroundings.

Gaborone Club on Friday night is full of characters: wives, children, teammates and opponents. An English Premiere League game is playing inside the small bar. The young boys are dressed in the leftover uniforms, begging to sub in. Uncle Sonny is on the sidelines adding his comedic two cents whenever possible.

Friday soccer is a full night affair. After the win, we celebrate with a round of beers. If you score a hat trick you are responsible for a round for the whole team. I have been informed that if I score I have to shower with the men, and if I score two goals I have to shower and buy drinks for all. I’ve yet to score.

Tshpang heads to ball to the keeper, but the keeper can’t handle the re-direct and steps inside the goal line! Torpedo calls it ‘no goal’. Gaborone Clube is in Blue and White.

After two rounds I see large quantities of meat – pig ribs, cow steaks and even impala carvings heading outside. I follow to find my teammates firing up the braai (an African barbeque).

What better way to enjoy an evening? The beautiful game followed by a social gathering intended to create goodwill among teammates and friends.

Soccer is the language of peace – kagiso!

Read more about my adventures in Botswana.

Have you experienced adversity in Sport? What was it like for you? Let me know in the comments below:

Ceasar celebrating with the vuvuzela. The horn is recently famous for it's abundance during the World Cup South Africa.

This is a column written for publication in my hometown local newspaper, The Grand Falls Windsor Advertiser.  

Grand Falls Windsor, NL,native, Sarah Furey, is volunteering on a HIV/AIDS communication project with Botswana Family Welfare Association in Gaborone, Botswana, Africa for six months.  She received her Bachelor’s of Information Systems from StFX University and is exercising her skills as a technical assistant.  Her internship is funded by CIDA (Canadian International Development Agency) in conjunction with The Coady International Institute. Questions or comments are welcomed at [email protected].