Setting foot in Dakar for the first time came with a hint of unease. The CAN final loomed large—an event that had morphed into a bitter divide between Morocco and Senegal. The whispers were real. This wasn’t just talk; the tension was palpable.

Amadou, a taxi driver in his fifties, greeted me warmly. His smile didn’t waver even when he learned I was Moroccan. We chatted casually, but his closing words lingered: «Despite everything, Senegal and Morocco are brothers…»

That «despite everything» said it all. A football match shouldn’t have the power to fracture bonds as deep as these. Or did it simply act as the spark that ignited simmering frustrations? The CAN was more than a tournament—it was a mirror, revealing tensions that had long festered beneath the surface.

everyday tensions in Dakar’s streets

In the bustling markets of Plateau, haggling over local fabrics took an unexpected turn. The vendor quoted a price of 13,000 XOF per meter. A counteroffer of 10,000 XOF was dismissed. Then came the tried-and-true tactic: «We’re your brothers from Morocco!» In most African cities, this phrase—or a well-placed assalamou alaykoum—would soften stances and lower prices. Not in Dakar. The merchant’s demeanor shifted instantly. «If it’s Morocco, then it’s 20,000 XOF,» he snapped, his tone laced with hostility.

«Hopefully, these lingering frustrations will fade on their own—both in Senegal and Morocco.»

His message was clear: We’re not doing business today. We were subtly urged to leave, as if we were unwelcome guests.

A human rights activist, dedicated to ending female genital mutilation, posed a pointed question: «Please, release our brothers detained in Morocco. What are you waiting for?» The demand to free Senegalese supporters arrested after the controversial final echoed through conversations. Others shared their own grievances, some admitting to boycotting Moroccan-owned shops. Their words weren’t filtered by diplomatic pleasantries. Even as they followed up with «We love Moroccans in Senegal…», the unspoken words—frustration, anger, betrayal—hung in the air.

beyond the rivalry: a deeper connection

The trip to Senegal was brief but intense—shaped by an undercurrent of tension. Yet, it wasn’t overshadowed by it. The warmth of the people, their vibrant spirit, and their sincere friendships left a lasting impression. Their hospitality didn’t come with conditions or caveats. It was unconditional.

Officials and federations may reconcile out of necessity, but human emotions run deeper. Healing takes time. Until then, the scars remain, a reminder of what happens when pride outweighs peace.