G R A S S R O O T S
J E S S I C A
F O O T B A L L
H I L L T O U T
A tired ball speaks. â€˜Am I kicked, beaten, used, crushed and trampled? Or am I strong, resilient, determined, unbeaten, proud? I am both. I am proof that with so little we can do so much. I am proof that simple pleasures are enduring. I am a ball. I am an African ball.â€™
PREFACE BY DAVID GOLDBLATT A few years ago I wrote on the opening page of The Ball is Round: A Global History of Football, “Football is available to anyone who can make a rag ball and find another pair of feet to pass to”, as if making a rag ball were a simple matter. How glib, how foolish, and from a man who had never made a rag ball in his life. I still have not made a rag ball but I have had the good fortune to see the photographs in this book, Jessica Hilltout’s Amen, and I will never take the manufacture of footballs, from any material, so lightly again. Yes football is a fantastically simple, flexible, open game. It will, in its aesthetic and sporting essentials, survive and prosper with just a few players, five-a-side, eleven-a-side and much, much bigger. It is at home on grass but can be played with fearsome elegance on dust, dirt, tarmac and sand. It can be crammed into tiny urban spaces or spread out on a beach, and though it can only reach its highest expression when played in boots and equipped with posts and nets, it still prospers and pleases with none of these. But what football cannot survive without, is the ball. Amongst the many things that I have learnt from this book, is that getting or making that ball is no simple task. On the contrary, it is emblematic of the inventiveness, diligence, creativity and single-minded focus of Africans in particular, but of poor communities everywhere. The 2010 World Cup, hosted by South Africa is understood to be Africa’s World Cup, the first global sporting mega event to be held on the continent and a rare opportunity for the world to look at the many Africas that live beyond the usual headlines of war and famine. In South Africa, the world will see that the continent, at its leading economic edge, can build world-class infrastructures and run major global events. This is a good thing, but what the world may not see, and that would be everyone’s loss, are the World Cups that are played every day by teams, friends, communities all over the continent; the leading informal economic edge of Africa where they are making balls, marking pitches, scoring goals and, above all, pleasing themselves. If somehow, the corporate carnival should make all this invisible, we are lucky that Jessica Hilltout’s photographs can take us some of the way there. — David Goldblatt, Football Historian.
INTRODUC TION Most people’s view of Africa, if indeed they have one, tends to be both accurate and simplistic. They see it as violent, corrupt, and poverty-stricken. Yes, there is all of the above, particularly poverty, the like of which we can scarcely imagine. But there is also great beauty and immense richness of spirit. Nowhere are these qualities better expressed than in Africa’s abiding love affair with the game of football. Western fanaticism for watching the sport cannot come close to matching Africa’s all-consuming passion for playing the game. And they do so, come what may. Here you will find ingenuity, doggedness, kindness and sheer joy. This book is not just about football, or indeed about football in Africa. It is a book that tries to capture the beauty and strength of the human spirit. In Africa, football is NOT a religion. But it is everything a religion SHOULD BE. Every village in Africa has one open-air temple with goalposts at opposite ends and devoted followers in the middle. Football breathes happiness into sun-baked days and rain-soaked evenings. On a continent where not even the basics are taken for granted, football is precious. And like everything that is truly precious, it is a necessity, like bread and water. Amen. So be it. — Ian Brower
MY THOUGHTS “Humanity can be divided into a minority of people who can do a lot with a little and a majority who can do little with a lot”. Alain de Botton. This book pays homage to Africa. It is a tribute to the forgotten, to the majority. Every experience changes a person. And this project has changed me. I have begun to understand the true importance of football, which would have been impossible if I had not lived through all the stories in order to capture the pictures. Through football I think I understand a little more about life, or at least a certain way of living. That is what I hope the book will do for you. The people with whom I worked were all essential to this project. Once they understood the message I was trying to portray, once I had gained their trust, they gave me more than I could ever have dreamed possible. They let me into their villages and homes. They proudly showed me their shoes, their balls, their jerseys. They took me down paths and alleys to discover charming details about the way of life and football in Africa. The World Cup happening on their continent is a huge moment for them. All the people who live and will remain in the shadow of this huge event deserve to have a light shone on them, not just for their passion for the game, but more so for the fundamental energy and enthusiasm that shines through the way they live. I want to share that passion with the world. I would love people to see and feel what happens in these tiny villages, most of which are many miles off a main road and for whom farming and football are the two essentials. Africa is a world like no other. Unstructured, disorganised, carefree, monotonous. The people have simple needs and huge hearts. They accept their lot in life with a supreme calmness. Yet underneath this there lies a passion for the festival, a reason to rejoice. And these moments are centred around music and football. Often the two go hand in hand. Football is the one activity that costs nothing. Balls are made by hand. A piece of relatively flat land is always nearby; wood provides the goalposts. Africa is a land where the superfluous and superficial seem stripped away, a place where the fundamentals shine through. What makes it so special is that this vast continent accepts its fate with elegance and grace, head held high. Here, I was constantly amazed at the strength of humankind. Here, nothing is a problem, despite money always being one. Yes, Africans may be poor, but poverty does not bring misery. A state of mind alone can bring happiness. As my good friend Ganiyu said: “Happy yourself wherever you are. No matter the conditions, make yourself happy. Play the game”. Then in a taxi going to meet Didier Drogba’s father, the driver said, “When things are a bit tough, we concentrate on the ball and forget”. Africa lives by those examples. And it is around this backdrop that I would like to bring to life funny, poignant and poetic stories that reflect the imagination and energy of the African soil. I have always been interested in the character of the small, seemingly unimportant things. To me, there is hidden beauty in the ordinary and great beauty in the overlooked. — Jessica Hilltout 9
Rubber ball. Chipanga, Mozambique.
João Gabriel’s ball. Chipanga, Mozambique.
Yarn ball. Gondola, Mozambique.
Anokye Stars FC. Kumasi, Ghana.
Plastic bag and tree bark ball. Chicome, Mozambique.
Domingoâ€™s ball. Chicome, Mozambique.
Samboâ€™s sock. Bombofa, Burkina Faso.
Malikâ€™s ball. Bibiani, Ghana.
Nelitoâ€™s ball. Nhambonda, Mozambique.
Bourganza, Burkina Faso.
Ricoso. Happy Soko Club. Golomoti, Malawi.
‘Petit Poto’. Sin-Yirri district. Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso.
Mini Goal. Jamestown. Accra, Ghana.
Mandela Park. Accra, Ghana.
Path to field. Kpenjipei, Ghana.
Soale. Kpenjipei, Ghana.
Orlando. Chicome, Mozambique.
Mano. Ferroviario FC, Beira, Mozambique.
Michael Sarkodie. Anokye Stars FC. Kumasi, Ghana.
Unknown. Outside Pipeline FC. Nhambonda, Mozambique.
Ramata. Dori, Burkina Faso.
Unknown. Pacasse, Mozambique.
The Great Eagles FC. Tamale, Ghana.
Unknown. Inhaminga, Mozambique.
Unknown. Mandela Park. Accra, Ghana.
Unknown. Ferroviario FC. Beira, Mozambique.
Soaleâ€™s boots. Kpenjipei, Ghana.
Seven Pillars district. Accra, Ghana.
Mensah Dosseh’s boots. Étoile Brillante d’Éburnie FC. Abidjan, Ivory Coast.
Ipolit Dembêlé. Étoile Brillante d’Éburnie FC. Abidjan, Ivory Coast.
Tawfig. Kusawku, Ghana.
Unknown. Anokye Stars FC. Kumasi, Ghana.
Unknown. Nhambonda, Mozambique.
Happy Soko FC. Golomoti, Malawi.
Essian. Anokye Stars FC. Kumasi, Ghana.
Unknown. Anokye Stars FC. Kumasi, Ghana.
Ferroviario FC. Beira, Mozambique.
Odwaâ€™s jersey. Cape Town Stars FC. Litha Park, Khayelitsha, South Africa.
Thandile. Cape Town Stars FC. Litha Park, Khayelitsha, South Africa.
Tuahir. Juku, Ghana.
Mensah Dosseh. Étoile Brillante d’Éburnie FC. Abidjan, Ivory Coast.
Latey. Mandela Park. Accra, Ghana.
Unknown. Tamale, Ghana.
Unknown. Mzuzu, Malawi.
Barcelona Team Player. Pacasse, Mozambique.
Unknown. Dori, Burkina Faso.
Seidou. Bourganza, Burkina Faso.
Twins. Alhassan and Fuseini. Kpenjipei, Ghana.
Benoiâ€™s team. Sin-Yirri district. Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso.
Fisherman’ Team vs Lets Go. Lomé, Togo.
Vento Inha vs Barcelona. Pacasse, Mozambique.
Tanko. Juku, Ghana.
Abdoul Rachid. Sin-Yirri district. Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso.
Noaâ€™s gym. Bibiani, Ghana.
Zakari Musahâ€™s coutyard. Bibiani, Ghana.
Lotta Cinema. Seating capacity 60. Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso.
Carlos Ribeiro. Escola Primera de Helene. Inharime, Mozambique.
Trophy won against Treshville. Étoile Brillante d’Éburnie. Ivory Coast.
Guingani Mounirou. Sin-Yirri district. Ouagadougou, Burkino Faso.
Etoile Brillante dâ€™Eburnie FC. Vridi-Sir district. Abidjan, Ivory Coast.
Chicomeâ€™s Team. Mozambique.
Tawfigâ€™s Team. Kusawku, Ghana.
Samuel and Sani with the under 17 team. Anokye Stars FC. Kumasi, Ghana.
Trip one: South Africa, Lesthoto, Mozambique, Malawi. Trip two: Ghana, Burkina Faso, Niger, Benin, Togo, Ivory Coast. 179
Thank you’s. From top left. Delito, a student who travelled with me to Chicome, Mozambique. Anton, the trainer of the Vento Inha Team, Pacasse, Mozambique. Kone and friend, who accompanied me into Burkinabe, Desert, Burkina Faso. Atsou Agbodo, a student/footballer who helped me discover football in Lomé, Togo. Hassan and Hardy. Brothers and football players. Bibiani, Ghana. Mohappi; Friend and assistant in Khayelitsha, South Africa. Mr. Sani Pollux. Anokye Star’s trainer. Kumasi, Ghana. Ganiyu Abubakari. Teacher, football lover and my closest friend on the trip. Tamale, Ghana. Christof Pluemacher. Companion throughout the voyage. Dominique. Assistant in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. Alvin and Kalabash. Friends and helpers. Osu, Accra, Ghana. Blaize. Security guard and assistant. Abidjan, Ivory Coast.
Anokye Stars Football Club. Kumasi, Ghana. Through a line of broken down buses, I spotted a football field. I shyly approached a man with a kind face. Mr. Sani Pollux. Even though he is not in many of my photographs, he is the key part of this story. A quiet man, he has been training these kids since he himself was fourteen years old. His parents never cared for him. He was a man at a very young age. He is the perfect example of someone who does so much with so little. He lives a very humble life. He had few needs apart from football, praying and the occasional cigarette. Unlike many who have had a tough childhood, he wants to help the kids. His club has always been called Anokye Stars. It is made up of a group of about 150 boys: the under 12’s, 13’s 14’s, 17’s and 18’s, with about thirty-five in each group. Each year he organises a few days that he calls ‘justify your inclusion’. Young kids travel from all over the country to try out for the club. But they only get registered when they reach a certain level. Sani explained to me that if he hears about a good player in the hinterland, he would take a bus there and if the young boy has talent, he might bring him back. Every day at training people come to watch these young dancers in the dust as they play the game they love. They play on a hard earth or raw gravel fields and for fear of injuries, Sani is very strict on fouls. A boy who gets hurt costs money and there is barely enough to buy balls. The boys look after Sani, and he looks after them. Some famous players have come out of his little club and gone on to represent the national team. Some have gone abroad: Antonio Yeboah, Isaac Boakye, Stanley Abora, Torik Jibril, Suley Muntari. He, the six boys with whom he lives, and his little club survive off the money he receives when he sells a player to a bigger club. This is just enough to keep going; but it means they can eat, sleep under a roof and play matches. He lives in a ten square meter home, in old Suame neighbourhood. On the roof is a huge satellite dish with all the sport channels. The living room is the cosy centre of this house. Here they listen to his massive old-fashioned radio, eat and watch football. The place is an organised mess with footballs hanging up, old photos of successful young boys, old boots, cups, trophies and a dangerously low ceiling fan. Sani kept saying, “I’m ok, I’m very ok”. Amen.
Team Footballs of the Anokye Stars FC. I was often asked why I photographed ‘tired’ balls and ‘home-used’ boots. They all assumed, naturally enough, that I was trying to depict poverty and deprivation. Quite the opposite. I wanted to show resilience, determination and a unique sense of style. Nothing will diminish their pride or passion. Nothing will stop the game, or the flair with which they play it.
Asibi Shoe Factory. Tamale, Ghana. Keeping tired shoes alive. Assibi Mousah from Sandama created his ‘factory’ in 1990. There are four wooden poles and some leaves for shade. He has a massive toolbox and there is a huge demand to fix boots and shoes. He is known for keeping tired boots alive, and therefore footballers happy. The most common job is to repair the whole sole. He can do this up to 3 times.
Chicome, Mozambique. 200 kms North of Maputo, then a five hour drive off the main road to cover just 80 kms. No electricity and one tiny shop with just the essentials: Maggie cubes, rice, tomato puree, pasta, sweets, some polyester clothes imported from China and washing powder. Sebastian the teacher assembled all the kids by ringing the school bell, explained the project and asked them all to go home and bring back their footballs. They all came back with an amazing array of balls, each one different. Often they are made with a plastic or rice bag (which can no longer serve its original purpose) and rope or tree bark tied around to give it shape. The football team in Chicome has no name. When they play away from home, they sometimes leave for three days, walking 30 kms to a neighbouring village and then back again.
Bombofa. 80 kms south of Mali boarder, 150 kms west of Niger border, Burkina Faso. We decided on a group photo of all the young footballers in the village. I asked them to bring an object from home, related to football or not. They came back with balls made of socks as well as ducks and goats.
The Cattle Herders and their Balls.Â Bourganza, 200km west of Dori, Burkina Faso. We were in the middle of the desert with Niger to the east. As we arrived in Bourganza just before sunset, a group of boys with their herd of cattle were crossing the road and heading home after a long day. Â They all had big smiles on their faces and they were dressed in football gear. I managed to arrange a meeting the next morning before they went off with the cattle. I asked them to bring any balls they had. Sure enough the next morning at 6 am, I heard the cattle herders and their animals approaching. Each had a ball made from old clothes. Because there is so little in the desert, they were the smallest balls I had ever seen.Â 189
Footie Rules. Nkhata Bay, Malawi. 4. A player who will not attend the training for one week. PUNISHMENT: suspended for one month. 5. A person who steal the team’s property. i.e. Money, jeans, whistle etc. PUNISHMENT: shall pay 2 times of what he has stolen. Taken to the police station if he fails to do so. 6. If player arrives late, for either a home or away match. PUNISHMENT: shall pay the fine of 100 kwacha 7. A person who will not attend fund raising activities. PUNISHMENT: shall pay ¼ of how much the fund is worth.
Football and Farming. Kpenjipei, Juku and Kusawku, villages south of Tamale 40km east off the main road, Ghana. “In these villages football is a passion for so many. Even in the hinterlands where farming activity is the sole act for many, they use football as a means for getting stress off themselves. As such when the farming activities are in progress, football fields are sometimes converted into farming fields only to become football fields again when the farming season is over. Because of the desirous nature of the people to play, some youngsters get involved in farming activity to raise money to buy football equipment… especially the ball itself.” “To give hope to the hopeless… through football”. “Happy yourself where ever you are”. The words of Ganiyu Abubakari, (friend, assistant, football lover and a beautiful human being).
The African earth. Â I have often been fascinated with the textures and colours of the land in Africa. And more so with the way that people are in such close contact with the land. Â Often I would lie on the ground to photograph feet and soil, one touching the other. It looks and feels so natural, as if they are meant to be so close. Land is so often suffocated by concrete, unable to breathe life into those who stand on it.
Litha Park. Khayelitsha, Cape Town. Khayalethu Deric Qanda and Mandasi Lutuli live in a township. They both formed football teams in 1998 - Real Future and Cape Town Stars. They give freely of their time every day to these kids. They believe in education and sport equally. Lutuli said that kids should go straight from school to football and then straight home. That way it keeps them off the streets and out of trouble. Lutuli insists that where you come from need not determine your future.
João Gabriel. The Rubber Robber. Chipanga village, rubber plantation, Malawi. There is a little pocket in Northern Malawi where there is enough rain to grow rubber trees. It is the only area in sub-Saharan Africa where this exists. I first went to the plantation, a big industry run by a Pakistani man. I wanted to understand the process but also to find out about the footballs made from rubber. ‘So all these football vendors, get the rubber from you?’ I asked… ‘No they rob our plantations’. It was not a subject he wanted to talk about. Driving along the main road that snakes through this huge plantation, you see people along the road selling balls made from rubber they steal to make a small living. What they take in comparison to the size of the plantation is trivial. So I looked for a little rubber robber to show me the process of making a ball. I met Joao, twenty-seven years old. He makes about fifty balls a week. He said he once sold a ball to the President. How to make a rubber ball: A rubber tree needs 200 litres of water a day to sustain life. After tapping a tree it takes two hours to fill a cup. One cup of rubber = one ball. The centre is made from Para rubber that grows in the forest. They heat the Para rubber to form a mini balloon. They inflate it and then wrap bits of rubber around. A good ball takes an hour to make. The life span is generally two days because they deflate.
Dotsè Family. Kodjoviakopé district, Lomé, Togo. It was my friend and assistant Atsou who introduced me to football in Lomé. Here we met the Dotsè family. They lived in a charming little house; mother, father and their three sons, Frank, Ferdinand and Selim, all of whom dream of becoming stars. They have been playing football since they were five years old. On the television, a beautiful, slightly rusty trophy, stands proud. They won it when they were seven years old in a ‘petit-poto’ (mini-goal) match. The three brothers stopped school early to pursue their passion for football, and their father encouraged them. They’ve played for the Diamond Stars since they were ten years old. 198
Étoile Brillante d’Éburnie Team. Vridi-Sir district, Abidjan, Ivory Coast. I met this team and their trainer, Elvis, by the beach. Elvis has helped these young boys since they were nine years old. They train Monday to Friday, without fail. We decided to do a group photograph and I asked the boys to bring from home any objects related to football. They didn’t bring much. Just their boots, some socks and homemade shin pads. But one brought a beautiful old rusty metal cup they had won when playing against Treshville in 2005. They took pride in showing me their boots. All were made of plastic. Some were adorned with their favorite players names. One player wore flip-flops and used plastic bags as straps to secure them.
Gondola, Mozambique. Isaac makes a ball before he goes to school.
Pacasse Home match - Vento Inha vs. Barcelona. 50 kms south of Tête and the Zambezi river, Mozambique. We were heading to Tête and passed this beautiful village beside the main road. The land was dotted with baobab trees. Cattle huddled around the water hole by the football field. There was a warm, dusty atmosphere. We stopped the Beetle and got out to have a look. A man came over and we got talking. With my broken Portuguese and expansive gestures, we were able to communicate. He understood the project. As pure luck would have it, he was the football trainer of the Vento Inha team. His name was Anton. He buys the team shirts. Numbers are hand stitched or written on the back. He explained that he does everything to keep his team motivated, despite lack of funds. They train every weekday from 3pm-5pm. One week they have a home match, the next is away. The furthest they have been is to the Zimbabwe boarder, which is 100 kms by lorry. We decided to organise a match for the next day between his team and the next village. The next day, Anton had all his players ready. What I saw next was amazing. The other team, Barcelona, had dressed up in long, winter coats. Some were even wearing hoods and scarves, all in an attempt to imitate the players they see on TV. Imagine this in 45°c. But it showed the amazing pride they take in football. The match started, spectators arrived. Cattle were milling around on the edge of the field. Dust filtered though the warm light. The players were giving their all, sometimes running straight into the cattle to get to the ball.
Sin-Yirri District. A touching story. Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. I made friends with a little group of kids from the outskirts. It is the holidays, so the main activity is football. They play in an enclosed area, much safer than playing where cars pass. They are all quite young, but passionate and very inventive in preparing their little field. One player, Roman, used a farming tool to mark the soil and pour ash into the lines to make them more visible. The goalie, Wilfred, was playing with ski gloves. The other, Benoit, had put his shoes on his elbows to protect them when diving to make a save. They do the same thing, every day. 204
Docteur des Ballons, Mr. Akolly Etsri’s Studio. Zongo Boad District, Lomé, Togo. A shy, humble man whose amazing artistry and craftsmanship fascinated me. Not only does he fix balls, he also makes them. They are pure leather, hand cut, hand stitched and very beautiful. First he showed me his portfolio, a little plastic photo book with every kind of ball you could ever imagine. He has twenty different styles of balls. Then he showed me the procedure. He decides the shape of the stencil. Hexagon, star, or oval? Then he sticks the shapes of leather (about thirty-two patches) onto two different pieces of material to reinforce it. Next he uses a nail and hammer to punch holes around the patches to help with the stitching. For example thirty-two hexagons, each one with forty-two holes equals 1344 holes to be made for each ball. Then he prints his logo on the leather. Bit by bit, the ball is born. Akolly says once the patches are ready for stitching it takes one and a half days to finish a ball. Punching the holes is what takes a long time. He says his job could be much more profitable if he had a proper punch. 205
Ball made with yarn in Gondola. Cost 20cent. Life span 3 days.
Ball made with fake leather in China. Cost 4 euro. Life span 1 day.
No good deed goes unpunished. I had bought thirty balls from South Africa. It was the beginning of the project and I had yet to learn about how African football is played. A ball has to be very tough to survive the terrain. After spending some time in a little village outside Gondola, Mozambique, I gave them a ball and when I came back the next day, it had split. They had already re-stitched it. I felt terrible and did not make that mistake again.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS This labour of love would have been impossible without the following people, and I cannot thank them enough. To my father Mark, thank you for your love and encouragement, for providing the creative spark, for your design and above all for your belief. To Ian Brower, my father’s creative partner, for his editing, for writing some beautiful words and making my own words flow that little bit better. To Christof Pluemacher, my travelling companion, for his ingenuity in fixing the VW Beetle, for his company and support. To all the people in the book, to all those who accompanied me and introduced me to the teams, thank you. You let me into your lives and believed in the project. You helped me dig deeper and find the heart of football in Africa. Your names and faces appear at the back and you will forever be in my thoughts. Thank you for your trust. To my lovely Mother for allowing her home to become one big layout. Merci. To Phillipe Rottier the retoucher. To me he’s the King Of Colour. He brought my prints to life. Torgny Hylen for his lovely, moving films, for creating the website and giving us his passion and belief. Liza Dyason for her invaluable PR knowledge, her drive and enthusiasm. Gavin Furlonger for his advice, infectious energy and introductions. Nicholas Brower, who hopes for a better world and helped to spread the word. Tommy Leroux for his musical inspiration. Geert Joostens for his help in compiling the images. Luc Schrobiltgen for his digital expertise. Mr. Hoffman at HSL Lab for his immense generosity. And to Frank’s Motors for giving our Beetle a much needed lift. To all, thank you. And Amen.
I PROMISE, I HOPE. Every person in this book, every player, every team, every trainer, gave me their trust. I think they believed in the project because it portrayed a rarely seen, positive aspect of their lives, their ambitions and their daily devotion to the game. How can I ever repay the fifteen teams with whom I worked so closely? Be they professional or amateur, their passion was as great as their equipment was poor. I hope to be able to go back with four hundred and fifty balls, pairs of boots, socks and shin pads so they can keep playing the game. I left my van in Accra for that very purpose. It’s waiting to be filled up, not just with petrol. — Jessica Hilltout
1st edition copyright © TradeMark TM 2010. The photographs copyright © Jessica Hilltout. Design and concept copyright © Mark Hilltout. The preface copyright © David Goldblatt. The text copyright © Ian Brower. Retouching of images by Philippe Rottier. Page layout and web design by Torgny Hylén. (www.hylen.co.za) Development by HSL Lab. Printed by Solutions Colour PTY Ltd., Cape Town, South Africa. Distributed by pourparler édition in Europe. (email@example.com) Distributed by Melissa Kruger Art and Design in South Africa. (firstname.lastname@example.org) TradeMark TM, Unit 13, Ravenscraig Mews, Ravenscraig Road, Woodstock, Cape Town, South Africa. www.jessicahilltout.com/amen ISBN 978 - 0 - 620 - 46604 - 2 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. 208
Published on Mar 20, 2010
This book pays homage to Africa. It is a tribute to the forgotten, to the majority, to all those in the shadow of this World Cup. In Africa,...