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Dakar, Senegal – The silence came before kickoff. Not from fear but anticipation, a nation holding its breath.
Across Dakar, radios crackled from open windows. Men gathered shoulder to shoulder in cafes, their eyes fixed on flickering television screens. Families crowded into living rooms. Friends leaned over phones, tea growing cold as conversation gave way to concentration.
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The city’s usual rhythm horns, its markets, its arguments, its laughter – did not disappear. It simply yielded to something larger.
Senegal were in the first knockout round of the World Cup, playing against Belgium.
On the ۲۵th-minute mark of the game, the boy from the suburbs of Dakar, Habib Diarra, delivered the nation from its anxiety, sweeping a loose ball beyond the Belgian goalkeeper: ۱-۰ to Senegal.
Eight thousand kilometres away from the game in Seattle, the United States, Dakar became the stadium. The celebrations only grew after Senegal scored a second goal early in the second half. Confidence turned into complacency. Five minutes from full-time, car horns blared and firecrackers echoed through the night. Victory was near.
But the celebrations came too early.
Belgium scored once. Then again. All in the space of five minutes, completing an astonishing comeback. And then, in the final minutes of extra-time, Senegal gave away a penalty: ۳-۲ to Belgium.
Problem is preparation
A day later, the silence remains.
Not quite mourning, but more disbelief.
“It’s incomprehensible,” says former Senegal international footballer Ferdinand Coly. “When you control a match with such quality until the ۸۵th minute, you have to finish it. But psychologically, everything changed.”
Coly believes the turning point was not Belgium’s resurgence, but the Senegal coaching team’s decisions.
“The substitutions completely changed the midfield. There was no reason to make them. Once Belgium scored, they gained the psychological advantage. Senegal became fragile. They retreated, played with fear, and never recovered.”
Coly was part of Senegal’s ۲۰۰۲ World Cup squad, the team that famously stunned France in the tournament’s opening match.
“It’s never over… until the final whistle,” he said, reflecting on Belgium’s dramatic comeback.
Since retiring, Coly has swapped his football boots for farming. He has also worked with the Senegalese Football Federation, and believes the national team has lost sight of the basics.
For him, the problem is not talent but preparation.
He criticises what he sees as an over-reliance on data, statistics, and performance apps, instead of building a coherent team identity and developing a clear tactical strategy.
As Belgium searched for an equaliser, their coach was still scribbling notes on a sheet of paper, adjusting and reacting until the very last minute.
“What a contrast!” Coly said. “We’re relying on technology when football is still about reading the game, adapting and thinking.”
Same old struggle
Coly’s analysis echoes that of supporters still trying to process a defeat that slipped away in the closing minutes.
Ibrahima Diop is a die-hard fan of the Lions of Teranga. He travelled to the ۲۰۲۲ FIFA World Cup in Qatar. He was even jailed in Morocco after trouble during the Africa Cup of Nations Final earlier this year.
In that controversial final – played against the hosts, Morocco – Senegal’s coach controversially called his players off the pitch after a disputed penalty decision. Senegal went on to win the match, but later lost the title over the incident.
For Diop, the lesson was the same as against Belgium.
“It comes down to concentration,” he says. “For ۸۵ minutes the team was organised and united. Then it disappeared. European teams are prepared psychologically to fight until the very end. We still struggle in those final minutes.”
Diop also believes Senegal were missing something impossible to measure.
“The team played without its supporters. Visa restrictions and the economic crisis meant many fans could not travel. The players know what that atmosphere gives them. Mentally, it made a difference.”
US President Donald Trump signed a proclamation in December declaring that no visas would be given for business or tourism to nationals of Senegal, and several other countries. This meant that fans with only Senegalese nationality were unable to travel to the tournament.
Diop sees a pattern in this World Cup. Ivory Coast, DR Congo, and now Senegal led until the closing minutes, only to watch victory slip away in stadiums empty of their fans.
Cruel for country
Football is rarely just football. This World Cup – meant to unite – has revealed the deep inequalities beyond the stands. A nation may be united in victory. But when the referee blows the final whistle, another game begins: the blame game.
Football is opium for the masses, says Coly. It has become one of the few moments when political loyalties disappear. For ۹۰ minutes, everyone wears the same colours.
“The national team is a bridge,” Coly said. “When Senegal plays, there is no political affiliation. It’s simply Senegal. Sport has this unique ability to unite people beyond their differences.”
The unity makes defeat feel disproportionately heavy.
Social media quickly filled with frozen moments from the match: missed chances, defensive mistakes, and coaching decisions replayed endlessly.
Under pressure, football often reveals more than just sporting weaknesses.
Babacar Fall, a Senegalese journalist who has closely followed the national team, argues that the problems began long before kickoff.
According to him, uncertainty over the coach’s future, disagreements inside the federation, and unresolved contractual issues created instability during the tournament.
“There were already problems before the Norway match,” he says. “The coach’s contract wasn’t settled. There were disagreements over player selection. Then, ۱۰ minutes from the end against Belgium, one substitution broke the defensive structure completely.”
He draws an even broader comparison.
“The country is paralysed. There was so much hope after the Africa Cup of Nations, just as there was so much hope politically. Today, there is disappointment. In many ways, the team’s collapse reflects the country’s mood.”
Those views capture a feeling repeated by many supporters in Dakar this week. There is frustration, not simply because Senegal lost, but because of how it lost.
The talent was there. The opportunity was there. For much of the match, Senegal looked like the stronger side. That is perhaps why the silence lingers.
This generation has raised expectations. Winning continental titles transformed how Senegal sees itself. Reaching the knockout stages is no longer enough; supporters believe this team should compete with the world’s best.
Ultimately, it is only football. But in Senegal, football has become something larger than sport. It is a source of national pride, a rare moment of collective unity, and a reflection of possibility.
That is why this defeat feels so cruel. Not because a match was lost. But because, for one evening, it felt as though an entire country’s potential had slipped away in the space of just five minutes.
