The victory of the Atlas Lions against Portugal united supporters from all over the continent in the streets of Roubaix.
Once again, Roubaix capsizes in a whirlwind of joy. “This victory represents all of Africa and all of the Arab people.” Rue de l’Epeule, Omaima, 21, supporter of Morocco, shares her joy with bright eyes. From a sidewalk, she watches the small crowd jubilant with 15-year-old Yasmin. They say : “We just come to have a good time, without overflows.” Others whisper it like a wish. “We don’t want to disturb” Wassim, 13, breathes with a delicate smile.
He followed the historic quarter-final which saw Morocco beat Portugal 1-0 to become the first African country to qualify for a World Cup semi-final, at the packed Coffee House, the snack bar run by his father, Hassane. of supporters. The walls shook there in the 42nd minute when En-Nesyri scored the game’s only goal.
Ballon d’or 65
Ten minutes away, the Portuguese supporters gathered at Casa Benfica, a bar located in a business district on the border of Roubaix and Tourcoing, began to watch helplessly as they escaped. The match is connected to a Portuguese-speaking channel, accompanied by comments shouted by the room sometimes in French, sometimes in Portuguese. The superstitious hand of this man slipping on the portrait of Eusebio, Portuguese international, gold ball 1965, will not have been enough to change the destiny of his compatriots. A little after 6 p.m., the match is sealed.
A handful of minutes later, the Epeule district becomes the epicenter of the party for the Moroccan diaspora in Roubaix, who have come to celebrate this victory. “It’s good for the level of African football”, rejoices Brahim, a 62-year-old Algerian. Several admirers of the Fennecs gather on the sidewalks to enjoy the happy spectacle that is playing out in front of them. Passing on some of their memories of the coronation of Algeria in the African Cup of Nations, celebrated in the same place three years earlier. Moroccans were there. “We are talking about people. Morocco is our brother. Politics is something else. comments Ibrahim, 47, greeted by the acquiescence of his friends Akim and Abdelhak, in their thirties.
Magic darbuka
From time to time, the dark sky lights up with the colors of the Moroccan national team. Fireworks exploding, smoke crackling and flags flying. In the street, we adorn ourselves with red and green. We dance to raï. And we share on social networks the euphoria of this magical World Cup, capable of transforming any plastic stool into a catchy darbouka.
“We would like to fall against France [en demi-finale], imagines Ali, a 27-year-old man from Roubaix of Moroccan origin. And at the same time, it’s going to be heartbreaking because it’s also our country. We grew up here, we laughed here, we cried here!” It will take a few hours to find out. For the moment, the cars tumble down from the right, from the left; place themselves one behind the other in a concert of horns. In this procession longer than any wedding in the area, we celebrate the love of a country, a nation, a continent.
Mamadou, 23, saddened supporter of Senegal, beaten in the previous round by England, consoles himself as follows: “I will be 100% with Morocco if the team falls against England. I count on them to avenge us!” And if the next round opposes Morocco to France? Will he choose a side? “If it’s against France, I’d rather it end in penalties. That way, for both countries, it will be them and their chance.