Holding On To A Dream

There are many stories of challenges and sacrifices made among the players currently showing their talents at the African Cup of Nations as they chased their dream of making it in the game. This story is also about a young man’s dream of making it as a footballer, one that helped him survive a nightmare that sadly too many have to endure.

Holding On To A Dream

As final results started to filter in from elsewhere, the Livorno players on the substitutes’ bench began to celebrate.  Their season, which up to a month earlier seemed geared toward an inglorious return to the Serie C, had been salvaged by a magical final few weeks during which they had put together an unbeaten run of four games.  That this, their final game of the 2018-19 season away at already relegated Padova, was ebbing away to a disappointing 1-1 draw mattered very little.

On the opposing bench, Matteo Centurioni - Padova’s third coach of the season - knew that the game was over.  There was, however, one more thing that he could achieve that season.  Turning to his bench, he summoned over a young midfielder he himself had promoted to the first team on his appointment. 

It was the ninety-third minute when Cherif Karamoko came on.  His game lasted only a few seconds during which he barely managed a touch.  And yet, it was still the greatest moment of his life, the fulfilment of a dream to make it as a professional footballer.

A dream to which he had held to even when his life resembled a nightmare.

Karamoko was born in Guinea-Bissau in May of 2020 and grew up in Nzerekore, the country’s second largest city, one that lives in constant tension between the three main ethnic groups of the Kpelle, Konianke and Malinke.  In July of 2013, those tensions boiled over and at least fifty four people died during three days of ethno-religious fighting.

Among them was Karamoko’s father.

“My father was the Imam of our neighbourhood and one evening members from another ethnic group attacked our house,” he told Gazzetta dello Sport.  “They would throw fire bombs at houses and when those living there ran out they would hack them with knives and guns.  My father and brother called the police and tried to defend the house as best they could.” 

“In the resulting gun-fight, I saw my father fall to the ground.  He died three days later in hospital.” 

“In the meantime, my brother escaped the country because he was afraid of possible reprisals.”

Two years later, his mother died of Ebola.  For Karamoko, barely fifteen but traumatised by those two tragedies, there was no option apart moving in with his only remaining relative in the city.  His sister took him in but it was an uneasy relationship; whilst she wanted him to go to school, all that he wanted was play football.

The game had always been his sanctuary.  As a three year old he had told his mother that one day he would be on television and as he grew he played at every opportunity on pitches of red dirt, either barefoot or with plastic shoes that he would mend by melting holes together.  But for all his enthusiasm, his sister was right, there was no future for him in the game.  There were no clubs that he could join, much less academies that might nurture his talent or coaches that could guide him.

His brother had resurfaced around the time of their mother’s death.  They found out that he had gone to work in Libya and he’d begun sending some money back home.  Still, whilst he was aware that the situation in Libya was deteriorating, he knew that there was no future for his brother in Guinea.  And so, one day, he sent word for Cherif to join him.

During 2020, as the world struggled to contain the COVID pandemic, just over ninety five thousand individuals took the perilous decision to cross the Mediterranean Sea to try and get into Europe. 

To do so, they put their lives in the hands of criminals who think very little of leaving them stranded in rickety boats without any fuel, food or water. If all went well for them, the current would take them into European territorial waters to get picked up by the coast guards and start the months- long struggle to obtain refugee status.

Those were the lucky ones.  Over eleven thousand were thwarted by the Libyan coast guards during 2020, picked up before they got to reach Europe.  All that awaited these unfortunate individuals were the deplorable conditions of Libyan detention centres.

Others simply disappear.  Last year, there were three hundred and eighty one confirmed deaths and a further five hundred ninety seven instances of individuals reported missing at sea.  In truth, the figure is probably much higher.

Karamoko’s brother had sent a friend to accompany Cherif but even so the journey from Guinea to Libya was a harsh one.  Often Cherif would ask to go back but he would always receive the same reply: Go back where?

Eventually, he was reunited with his brother, although not before being imprisoned on his arrival in Libya.  His brother had to pay for his release just as he had paid for their journey to Europe.

That final part of the journey filled Cherif with anxiety.  He had heard stories of people drowning as they were trying to cross the Mediterranean and didn’t want to suffer the same fate.  His worst fears were soon to be confirmed.  “The boat could hold sixty people but we were one hundred forty three,” he later recalled on the Italian TV show Verissimo.  “It was full, we wouldn’t fit but those who organised the trip were armed and they forced us on.  There wasn’t room to move.”

“It was December, the sea was rough, the weather bad and the boat had a hole...A fight broke out also because of the box holding the life jackets.  Before leaving they had given it to us closed, telling us that there were enough for everyone.  Instead there were only five.”

“That fight definitely led to the boat capsizing...My brother managed to get me a life jacket.  I was crying, confused, not thinking neither about life nor death.  But he kept repeating ‘you have to be strong, you have to live, you have to become a footballer.’”

“We stayed there from nine till the afternoon.  Then, finally, a rescue ship found us.”

He would only find out the terrible reality a couple of days later.  Of those who had been with him on the boat, only twenty-three had been saved.  The rest had drowned: Cherif’s brother had been among them.

Football gave Karamoko some respite from these devastating losses. The first months in Italy hadn’t been easy but as he began to learn the language the situation improved, especially after being transferred to a refugee centre in Battaglia Terme, near Padova.

There was always a dream that pushed him on.  Rumours about his abilities started to spread.  There were talks with local amateur side USD Albano but eventually someone managed to get him a training session with Padova’s youth team.  What was supposed to be a one-off became an extended trial.  The kid, they realised, had skill and strength: but he had never played an official match, nor did he have any concept of tactics.  He did not even know where his best position on the pitch was.  Yet he had the faith of youth coach Matteo Centurioni who spent hours with him, helping him improve his awareness and trying him in different positions until it was decided that the right hand side of midfield was the one where he could make most impact.

When Centurioni was called to take over the first team, he took Karamoko with him.  The elder members of his squad welcomed him, some even gifting him shoes with which to train and play.  Until the final game of the season when his dream of playing edged a step closer.

“When they told me I was in the matchday squad [for the season’s final game], I returned home and cried with joy”, he recounts in the biography ‘Salvati Tu Che Hai Un Sogno’ [Save Yourself You Who Have a Dream] written together with Gazzetta dello Sport writer Giulio Di Feo “I was observing Ramadan, I played only a minute but I’ll never forget it.”

If this were a fairy tale, that is where Karamoko’s story would end.  But, sadly, it is not.  Following Padova’s relegation, he was sent on a season long loan to Serie D side Adriese 1906 where injuries limited his appearances.

In the meantime, the contract with Padova came to an end whilst his residency permit also expired.  He now finds himself once again living in a guest house that hosts around thirty youths like him.  He still harbours the hope of becoming a professional footballer once again.  Mario Centurioni, the man who gave him his debut, remains in touch but he too is out of a job and, so, unable to help.

Even so, as brief as his career has been, football has temporarily given him a measure of hope.  There are countless others making the journey to Europe who, lacking Cherif’s sporting talent, have not been so lucky.

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