A like Guardian Angel (By Abu Oumar) January 27, 2026
There are men whom History ignores, but whom dignity recognizes. There are also some who do not appear on any match sheet, but whose presence weighs more heavily than a goal. And then there is this bearer of the A, standing in the Moroccan stands like an invisible sentinel, a stubborn breath, an angel without wings. Member of the “12e Gaïndé” supporters committee, the wearer of the A of SENEGAL is not just a choreographic extra. He is one of the links in a collective faith, the one that was expressed in Tangier then in Rabat, during the 35th African Cup of Nations, held from December 21, 2025 to January 18, 2026. A man standing in the stands, when everything else is wavering.
Average build, body painted in the colors of Téranga, gaze focused elsewhere than on the lawn. He wasn’t watching the game. He lived there. His role was not to applaud, but to carry the eleven Lions with a continuous, almost mystical breath. An angel’s breath.
With his six companions, S, E, N, E, G and L, he formed this word which we believe to be simple, but which is a burden. A nation: SENEGAL. The seven of them weren’t just supportive. They energized the soul, awakened pride, reminded tired bodies that they were not alone.
In appearance, it exudes a quiet sweetness. That of the dozing lion. But make no mistake: don’t wake him up! The finale woke everyone up. A penalty awarded in a more than contentious action by the Congolese referee Jean-Jacques Ndala, following a Senegalese goal refused two actions earlier. Chaos then ensued on the pitch and in the stands. The end of chaos, headlined some press. Reason left the stadium. Tension set in.
When, in this indescribable commotion, stewards and certain Moroccan supporters saw fit to want to subdue, humiliate, crush the Senegalese supporters who denounced partisan arbitration, he did not give in. With his companions, they held on. He was the most visible. The A straight, clearly visible. Fists were raised. Chairs were snatched from the attacking stewards. The battle was tough, in foreign territory, in a hostile climate. But he didn’t give up.
While he fought in the stands to avoid dishonor, the eleven Gaïndé did the same thing on the pitch against the Atlas Lions. Through a strange channel, that of the senses, of shared rage, he transmitted to them the anger, the refusal to give in, the impossibility of giving up. The fight was total. And the victory was all the more beautiful.
Even today, eighteen of his companions are detained in the Cherifian Kingdom. And silence, sometimes, hurts more than blows.
The State of Senegal must act and use all diplomatic means to obtain their release. Act not out of emotion, but out of principle. And Prime Minister Ousmane Sonko seems to have understood this…
And above all, after that, recognize what they embodied: the refusal of dishonor. Because this man and his companions stole nothing. They didn’t destroy anything.
They defended a symbol and made this motto their own that we too often recite without living it: “We are killed, but we are not dishonored. »And for that, he deserves better than oblivion. He deserves the recognition of a Nation which, that evening, also had an angel in
