I hate Africa*, but I love it even more

Reto Fehr

If I had to sum up my journey to the Africa Cup of Nations in one sentence, it would be this: “Nothing works, but everything works.” It actually applies to everything I want to do. In the vast majority of cases, it is noisy and difficult around me and plans can hardly be carried out as planned. Many things also take longer than expected. But you always find a way and get there at some point.

This year it started with the preparation for the trip. “126.50 francs,” says the slightly irritated employee of the Ivorian embassy in Bern. I still see my successful visa application slipping away. Because I only have 126 francs left in cash. We have been negotiating for over half an hour to see if I have all the necessary documents together.

We’re both annoyed, I can’t show it. My invitation letter from the African Football Association is missing a signature, my name is missing from my AirBnB reservation, my flight confirmation is printed too small and my yellow fever vaccination is copied too dark. He has something to complain about in everything. He repeatedly contacts the ambassador. He would love for me to travel to his country, but rules are just rules. No police department can keep up with this bureaucracy.

And now this last point: the money. I knew that you had to bring exactly 120 francs for the visa. I forgot that I also have to pay the 6.50 francs for the registered letter. What now? The employee has mercy. “This time I’ll give you the 50 cents, but for next time,” he says, pulling out a slightly yellowed list of 13 points that govern the visa application, “next time this list will count to the letter.” This bypassing of bureaucracy is something that no Bünzli can keep up with.

“You can get through it today, but next time the rules apply,” I have lost count of the number of times that was said to me around the Africa Cup of Nations. Guards and the military seem to function this way around the stadiums. Even though the accreditation gives me access to (almost) everywhere, they first firmly refuse, then ask their manager and he explains exactly this to me: “Today it’s okay, next time not.” I nod thank you and we both know there won’t be a next time.

One thing is clear: nothing is set in stone until it actually happens. Everything can change until the last moment. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the better. A local from Uganda explained to me years ago that the non-binding nature that has conquered the world with smartphones fits perfectly with Africa: “It feels like anything is possible with these things. Only a few know the fastest way and exhaust all possibilities. And suddenly something disappears and something new arises.”

This ‘you never really know what will happen’ also applies to the road from my accommodation to the large bus station in the somewhat infamous Adjamé district. The taxi driver honks and pushes and sometimes overtakes on the left, sometimes on the right. He swears and curses and is in a hurry in the busy morning traffic of Abidjan. Then he suddenly pulls to the right, gets out and empties his bladder. All that hassle for nothing.

Still, we reach the bus station on time. It’s a complete mess here. I would be completely lost. But he literally takes me by the hand, takes the ticket, puts me in the right line for the right bus to Yamoussoukro and waits until I am safely on board. I can’t even imagine how hard it would have been if he had just dropped me off there.

In Abidjan I experience great contrasts. In a modern supermarket I can buy oranges from Spain, mangoes from Brazil or chocolate from Switzerland and pay with a credit card. A few meters further on I want to pay about 30 centimes for the crossing with the old ferry, the equivalent of about three francs. The lady at the counter asks if I have a small amount of money, she doesn’t have much change.

It seems like a parallel world. I became most aware of this when I was on my way to the opening match between Ivory Coast and Guinea-Bissau. So many people celebrate on the side of the road, but they can never afford access to the stadium.

In Switzerland you hear a lot about how dangerous it can be in Africa or Ivory Coast. Of course, you should avoid some areas and follow some rules. Overall I never felt uncomfortable, I was never harassed, I never felt like I was being ripped off. On the contrary. It’s like everywhere: 99 percent of the people are friendly and helpful. I especially notice this with taxi drivers. Perhaps also because Uber works partially or the local Yango variant has become established. This eliminates discussions about price.

I still get into a ‘normal’ taxi every now and then. Once to go to the Banco National Park – a jungle as big as Lake Zug in the middle of the city. We negotiate a price – 5000 CFA francs (about 8 francs).

When I come back in after visiting the park and we make a short detour for the guide, he says: “That’s a total of 14,500 CFA francs (approx. 25 francs).” I’m surprised to say that it costs me more than my wife (which is obviously not true because she is completely independent of me financially). Then he explains to me very calmly: “I don’t want to rip you off, it’s math. 5000 the outward journey, 4000 the waiting time, 5500 the return journey.”

Another taxi driver asks me the counter question: how much do I want to pay for the short ride?
Me: “1500 CFA francs.”
Him: “2000.”
Me: “1700.”
He nods.

A third person also asks about my offer after a match in front of the stadium.
Me: “3000 CFA francs.”
Him: “5000.”
Me: “4000.”
He: “There are so many people here, someone pay me 5,000.”
I am that someone.

In other African countries I had completely different experiences. But here in Ivory Coast everything is more or less relaxed, or at least as relaxed as it can be in the noisy city life of ‘Babi’, as Abdijan is called in the local Nouchi French. But I would even say: Ivory Coast is a good place to start if you are planning a trip to Africa.

I am often asked what makes the Africa Cup of Nations so attractive. Many people cannot understand the fascination or would not ‘travel’ to one of the host countries. There is something in Africa that either completely grabs you or leaves you completely cold.

For me it is always an invaluable experience. You learn so much in such a short time and it shows how well we are doing in Switzerland. One day I want to use Google Maps to show a taxi driver where I want to go because I’m sure I’m pronouncing the name of the neighborhood wrong. I show him the fragment several times until I realize: he can’t read at all. Then you just sit in the taxi and think how lucky you were to be born in a country that has free access to education.

Usually you experience something with other European journalists or acquaintances somewhere in the stadium, on the bus or in the restaurant that you cannot really explain. We all say to ourselves, “You can tell us that at home, but if you haven’t experienced it, you can hardly understand it.”

For example, collecting the accreditation took me more than three hours. It felt like ten minutes would have been enough. There are twelve people sitting behind computers in the room, but apparently they can only work when the boss waves through an application.

A crowd of people forms around his table, and everyone is in line behind them. You can always move a chair closer to the goal. But then people push in, others get express treatment for a reason, sometimes someone comes with a list of accreditations and blocks everything, and every now and then things almost come to blows. You can’t make up scenes like that, no one would believe you.

Despite all the hardships that sometimes drive me almost to despair even after years, a trip like this gives so much back that it easily makes up for everything. I can only recommend everyone to watch it for themselves. I believe that a trip to Africa enriches every life.

Nothing works, but everything works. Back in Switzerland, other challenges await us. During a day with my children I think: a trip to the Africa Cup of Nations is a bit like living with at least two small children. Rarely does anything turn out the way you imagined it. But somehow it always works. And for me it is simply the greatest happiness on earth. I’m already looking forward to the 2025 Africa Cup of Nations in Morocco.

_{*Yes I know. Africa is not a country. This time the Africa Cup of Nations took place in Ivory Coast. I was there for a week and experienced so much that I knew all too well from my travels to several other African countries. Other things were new to me. The expression “This is Africa” is no coincidence, even though each country has its own identity(s). On the continent, many things are simply different than we are used to in Switzerland or Europe (which is also not a country).}