DR Congo Welcomes You To Africa’s World Cup

While it would be asking too much to expect soccer to deliver anything like justice, you can usually count on the sport’s sense of humor. That’s why we probably shouldn’t be surprised that the 2026 World Cup, marred from the outside by the racist caprices of the Trump administration, could best be described at this point as African soccer’s coming-out party.

Here at the close of the tournament’s group stage, the Africans are triumphant. Nine of their 10 World Cup entrants have made it the round of 32. No other continental confederation can better Africa’s percentage of knockout qualifiers. Getting so many teams through is impressive in its own right, but doing so has to feel especially rewarding in light of how much skepticism and bullshit African soccer had to endure coming into the World Cup. Whether explicit or just implied, Africa was one of the main targets of the concerns many had about the quality of this tournament due to the newly expanded field. Eurocentric pundits and officials alike penciled these purportedly benighted teams in for a wave of thrashings at the hands of the Old Continent’s elite. Then, when the tournament was finally set to begin, African fans, journalists, players, and even referees were subjected to the noxious indignities of Donald Trump’s security theatrics, the “lucky” ones merely manhandled by customs agents en route to their American destinations, the less fortunate seeing their entry into the country denied outright. And yet, now that the games have actually started, the Africans have outperformed all expectations.

Saturday’s group stage–ending round of matches stood in well for what Africa has brought to this World Cup. Three African teams were in action, each aiming to solidify their place in the round of 32. First up was Ghana, which had no reason to be too bothered by its 2-1 loss to Croatia, given that the Black Stars had already sealed their place in the knockout rounds by taking four points from their first two games. Next came DR Congo, which got the win it needed against Uzbekistan to also stamp its ticket to the next round. Finally, there was Algeria-Austria, a game that offered the Desert Warriors a chance to avenge a nearly half-century-old grudge against the Austrians for the infamous Disgrace of Gijon at the 1982 World Cup. Both teams only needed a draw to advance, and a loss would’ve seen either ousted. But unlike that day in Spain 44 years ago, there would be no collusion this time. At the tail end of a wild match, Algeria, the victim of the non-aggression pact between Austria and West Germany back then, seemed to have gotten their revenge when a stoppage-time Riyad Mahrez goal put his team up 3-2. However, Austria kept hope alive and was redeemed by an equalizer which allowed both teams to go through.

Of all of Africa’s exploits on Saturday, it was the DR Congo vs. Uzbekistan match that particularly caught my eye. In part it’s because it was the exact kind of matchup UEFA president Aleksander Ceferin bemoaned when he predicted that this 48-team World Cup would be rife with “completely uninteresting” matches. But what may have seemed like a surefire skip back when the schedule was released actually turned out to be one of the more entertaining and heartwarming scenes of a tournament full of them, thanks largely to those perpetually underestimated Africans.

Congo had already proven itself formidable in its first two matches of the tournament. The Léopards‘ shocking, wholly deserved draw against Portugal in the opener was one of the main results that set the tone for this World Cup as one where the underdogs would do some major biting. And while the narrow final scoreline of the followup match against Colombia somewhat flattered to deceive, holding the high-flying Cafeteros to only a single goal in the 1-0 loss was yet more evidence that Congo was a legitimately tough out. But if the Congolese wanted more than just a celebrated draw and an admirable defeat, if they wanted to stick around stateside for longer than the likes of Ceferin would’ve wanted, they’d have to win a game playing a very different style than they had before.

To be fair to the pre-tourney prognosticators, they weren’t entirely wrong that the larger World Cup field would mean several notably weak squads would pad out the bottom of the competition. It’s just that the patsies by and large weren’t coming from Africa, but rather from Asia. (Only two of the Asian confederation’s nine entrants qualified for the round of 32.) Uzbekistan was one of these uncompetitive teams. Even then, though, the presence of a team like Uzbekistan didn’t make for matches totally devoid of interest. Here, for instance, Uzbekistan’s relative badness posed a completely different challenge than those that DR Congo had met so bravely before. The intrigue was in whether the Léopards, one of the stories of the tournament, would earn the right to continue the tale by changing the genre.

The gameplan Congo brought to the tournament was tailor made to allow them to compete with big, ball-dominant teams like Portugal and Colombia. It was all about sitting back in a deep, compact block, relying on the team’s bevy of defensive specialists to repel all opposing attacks, and after forcing a turnover, hitting out immediately on the counter, where the speedy forwards could trouble anyone. But against Uzbekistan, the Congolese were going to have to take more of the attacking initiative themselves. That dynamic was only exacerbated after the White Wolves took the lead just 10 minutes into Saturday’s match through a very nifty Eldor Shomurodov finish. That goal gave Uzbekistan a lead to protect as it sought to have its own happy ending to the tournament, hanging onto what would’ve been their first-ever World Cup win. It also heaped even more of the attacking initiative on Congo, putting them in a position they were not accustomed to.

For the entire first half, it felt like Congo had gone so long playing a defense-and-counters game that it had totally forgotten how to play any other way. They did try to manufacture the kinds of big spaces you usually find when countering, sending loads of long passes up over the Uzbek defense for the forward-minded players to chase, but they almost never connected. Outside of that, Congo’s only real idea with the ball was to give it to an isolated winger, most often the jinky Brian Cipenga on the left, and see if he could basically run the length of the pitch all by himself. You won’t be surprised to learn this did not prove very effective.

After halftime, though, it was as if Congo finally remembered how to go about getting into the final third in ways other than just blindly hoofing the ball up there and hoping one of their guys might run onto it first. Mostly it was a simple matter of offering a point or two of support to those previously isolated wingers. In the second half, when Congo got the ball out wide to Cipenga, Sunderland midfielder Noah Sadiki would drift over there to join him, where he could set Cipenga off on better-directed jaunts with one-twos. Striker Yoane Wissa might float out that way too, helping Cipenga get deeper by presenting a passing option and then laying the ball off to him or Sadiki or another supporting Congo player. By surrounding the ball-carriers with teammates looking to help, the Congolese attacks were much more fluid and incisive. Then, once the ball was in the attacking end, the Léopards could once again show off the attacking thrust that made them so dangerous in the previous games.

Naturally, Wissa was the star man. It was his sly movement in the box, of the sort that has made him a terror to Premier League defenses for years now, that won Congo the penalty that Wissa himself would convert to tie up the match in the 68th minute. Ten minutes later, a deft flick from Fiston Mayele redirected a deflected Meschak Elia shot past the Uzbek goalkeeper, which finally gave Congo the lead. Though Congo had spent 78 minutes either down a goal or level, and therefore on the brink of fumbling a golden opportunity to keep their run going, they remained impressively present in the moment, never looking overly frustrated or anxious. The heavily Congo-supporting crowd too never seemed nervous, instead cheering on their guys with a smile throughout, probably happy just to be seeing something they never thought they would. It wasn’t until Mayele’s goal, and the sight of him sliding to his knees and pulling his shirt over his face, and the crowd’s explosion of joy, that you saw the full weight of the emotion of the moment.

Giving up that second goal killed what remained of Uzbekistan’s motivation. After conceding twice to a better team, which made their chances of earning that first-ever World Cup win remote, Uzbekistan’s players could hardly muster much energy or determination to keep fighting. It was, however, interesting to see how that effect did not apply to the individual White Wolves when they got the ball. If the greater context of the match and Uzbekistan’s sealed fate weighed heavy, then the more specific context of being an Uzbek player with the ball at his feet in a match in the World Cup overrode the demoralizing big-picture. Uzbek players would go from listlessly trotting around the field to, when the ball came to them, zipping to attention, trying to pull off all sorts of audacious touches and ambitious passes to his disinterested teammates. The sense it gave was that the simple pleasure of playing with the ball, and the mind-blowing knowledge that they were doing so on a stage no Uzbek team had ever before reached, instinctively reverted the players to their childhoods, back to where they’d dreamed what surely felt like impossible dreams about playing for their country at a World Cup, and dribbling like Ronaldinho while there. Obviously competitive games are what everyone wants from a World Cup, but images like those of the dejected Uzbeks who became temporarily reinvigorated by the presence of the ball also make for moving demonstrations of just what this tournament means.

But on the whole, this was the DR Congo show, and it would end with the bang it deserved. In the first minute of second-half stoppage time, Wissa struck again, this time hitting a perfect curler that wrapped around the legs of some Uzbek defenders before skipping just inside the far post. That third goal at the death really kicked off the jubilation in the stadium, though you have to appreciate Wissa’s own nonchalance in the face of the biggest moment of his career. The pictures of his stoney face, arms spread wide, as his mobbing teammates lift him up are some of my favorite of the tournament, a fitting unintentional tribute to the Supa Hot Fire meme.

For making it out of one of the toughest groups in the tournament, Congo will face England on Wednesday in Atlanta. There, they will be able to return to the style of play they feel more comfortable with. They will bring their staunch defending, fearsome counters, exuberant fans, and the shared momentum of an entire continent. What they likely won’t be bringing, however, is their most iconic fan.

Michel Kuka Mboladinga, better known as Lumumba Vea, has over the past year become a star fixture at Congo games, where he dresses up like Congolese revolutionary politician Patrice Lumumba and stands motionless all game in the pose of a famous Lumumba statue in Kinshasa. He rose to fame with this act during last winter’s Africa Cup of Nations, and was expected to reprise it at the World Cup. After a mandatory quarantine period installed in response to an Ebola outbreak in Congo, Mboladinga missed DR Congo’s first match of the tournament. He was however present in Guadalajara for the Colombia match, and again cut a powerful figure. His stillness and seriousness calls to mind the gravity of Lumumba, his anti-colonial politics, his CIA-coordinated assassination, and the long, ongoing struggles of Africans to free themselves from Western imperialism. It makes for a fascinatingly different approach to fandom, one that doesn’t seek to deny the celebrations of what happens on the pitch, but rather to also include the political context that is of course inextricable from the game itself.

Anyway, Mboladinga was denied a visa to enter the U.S., and was therefore not able to be in Atlanta at Saturday’s game. Congo’s ambassador in Washington, D.C., Kapinga Yvette Ngandu, has said she will try to get him a visa in time for the England game, but there’s no reason to think she’ll be successful—especially not in light of what Mboladinga’s act would mean in the U.S., one of the main countries involved in the conspiracies to undermine and kill Lumumba when his party had taken power. But we already know that there’s no justice at the World Cup.

Even without Lumumba Vea in the stands, Congo will get at least one more match to continue one of the best stories of the tournament. The Léopards are unlikely to get past the Three Lions, but surely Africa’s representation in this World Cup will persist via some number of the eight teams still in the running. (The continent’s ninth knockout qualifier, South Africa, already lost to Canada on Sunday.) Whether it’s Morocco going on another deep run, or Senegal giving a final kick to last generation’s leading dark horse and possibly facing the USMNT, or Cape Verde somehow pulling off another miracle, Africa’s World Cup no doubt has more in store for us. And rather than being ruined by it, the tournament will be all the better for it.