At the home of Olivier Diplo, a 22-year-old Ivorian, football is a taboo subject. Any mention of the beautiful game tenses the atmosphere and brings out the latent anger that settled in the home five years ago. In the humble home in Abidjan (Ivory Coast) where Diplo lives with his family, football rhymes with bitterness. “If I bring up the subject, they tell me to stop immediately, they threaten to throw me out on the street,” he explains.
Since he was 17 years old, Diplo claims to have been the victim of fake footballer agents on three occasions. His father (now deceased), his mother and his stepfather have spent at least 8,000 euros in a hope fueled by pure smoke. It has been a five-year period of unfulfilled promises in exchange for an obscene fortune for an average Ivorian economy. Along the way, properties were sold and debts accumulated.
It is an investment. If the boy succeeds as a footballer, everyone will benefit, so they are willing to mobilize the necessary resources
Frédéric Lapeyre, ILO
“Fake agents have created a business – in the Ivory Coast and throughout Africa – for the simple reason that there is a lot of money in it,” says Marc Zoro, former Ivorian player and president of a footballers union in his country. Far from being crude charlatans, his methods evoke, according to him, the white-collar thief. “An intelligent and seductive person, a true specialist in lying.” From his office in Abidjan, Zoro gives an account of the havoc that the lies of these expert con artists are causing. “I know of cases of very young boys imprisoned in Thailand or Armenia. Desperate, helpless, without money to return home.”
During his journey, Diplo has suffered airport lockups and nights outdoors. He survived three months in Dubai, training in public parks while waiting for the test of an Emirati team that never arrived. They also guaranteed him that he would play for a club in the Indian first division, but he ended up destroying his right arm in a rough 7-a-side soccer league in the state of Kerala, in the south of the Asian country. The third time they cheated on him, Diplo didn't travel. They were all, at first, charming words from a theoretical London agent. Then, deadlines postponed in perpetuity. Later, unanswered calls. And in the end, the same result: money and more money thrown into the drain of broken dreams.
The interview with Diplo takes place on an arid soccer field in Abidjan, where part of the rich pool of African soccer thrives. It is Saturday, match day, and two teams of teenagers compete under the midday sun, enveloped in the humid heat of the Ivorian coast.
![Image of a match in an Ivorian youth soccer league.](https://imagenes.elpais.com/resizer/eBWM6OLdhq8bOHS7TCz-KaC0eWM=/414x0/cloudfront-eu-central-1.images.arcpublishing.com/prisa/5MSRKVQRWJGKPOAAAFYQB6V6UQ.jpg)
At 16 years old, tall and wiry, Yves shows promise as a central defender. He claims to be aware of the danger of false agents. And he sums up the reason why they get their way so many times: “For many African boys, being a professional footballer is our great ambition. If we see even a slight possibility of achieving it, we go for it. “This way it is easy for them to manipulate us.”
Yves returns to the field of play. Mere coincidence or symptom of the magnitude of the problem, a spontaneous chat with his two coaches reveals that they were also, more than a decade ago, victims of a false agent. It happened in 2012, when they were both 16 years old and playing on their neighborhood team. For six months, a man provided them with sports equipment, supervised their training for the love of art, and sweetened their ears with praise. “He completely gained our trust,” laments Gogon Loua, one of the coaches.
Then, the scammer threw the bait: a trial for a French team for 1,200 euros. The criminal's talk dazzled Loua, who saw his dream within reach. “My family made huge sacrifices, but managed to raise the money. We deliver it to you. Shortly after, he summoned us for a paperwork matter. He didn't show up for the appointment, so we went to his house. He had disappeared without a trace,” he recalls.
For the scam to take hold, it is essential to involve families. Often poor and poorly educated, parents, uncles or grandparents see in these scoundrels an escape route from misery. “It is an investment. If the boy succeeds as a footballer, everyone will benefit, so they are willing to mobilize the necessary resources,” says Frédéric Lapeyre, director of the International Labor Organization (ILO) in Ivory Coast.
Lapeyre frames the problem “in the migration phenomenon.” Although, unlike the networks that manage migration in Africa, the person responsible continues, the false agents are free: “They are simple opportunists who take advantage of extreme vulnerability.”
Do not lose hope
Next to the International Federation of Professional Footballers Associations (Fifpro) and the Didier Drogba Foundationthe ILO launched in March 2023 a Campaign to warn about a deception in which, according to a first estimated survey, 27% of African players who are contacted by an agent fall into. The initiative included a lecture tour by Ivorian football academies. Lapeyre, Drogba and Zoro traveled throughout the country urging people to verify the credentials of the man who claims to be an agent. And instilling the importance of education: to better recognize the liar and to have, if the path of football does not prosper, a plan B with which to earn a living.
“A plan A, I would say. Few kids will become professionals. But in Africa, it is taken for granted that football and school are incompatible,” explains Rodrigue Ettien, who played in Romania and Morocco until a serious injury cut short his career. Before turning professional, Ettien also heard siren songs. There were many people who drew him dream horizons, always after payment of a juicy amount. “I preferred to continue studying and let my talent speak. If there is interest, it should be the team that pays all the expenses,” he maintains.
Unfortunately, Ettien admits, the advance of non-refundable money is a common practice in recruiting new talent. “There are European, North African or Asian clubs that do not want to bear any cost without having seen the player live.” They invite you to do a test at their facilities, but they do not assume a euro of risk. The boy has to pay for transfers, accommodation, visa and maintenance. “If the test goes well, you get your money back. If not, the club loses nothing,” adds Ettien. Kids who aspire to make a living from football know that this is often what it is.
In reality, there are an infinite number of ways for an African footballer to end up signing for a foreign team. As there are no clear patterns to cling to, rumors, half-truths and true facts multiply in a poorly regulated market, despite the recent attempt by FIFA to put some order.
A dizzying carousel of verbiage and false documents pushed Brice Djédjé halfway around the world. Tunisia, Saudi Arabia, China… Each country, their scammers insisted, works in its own way, with its own bureaucracies and complex goings-on. Djédjé lived an odyssey of frustrations in which he and his family spent more than 10,000 euros. In 2013 he ended up in Mohammedía, a small city near Casablanca (Morocco). “That time it seemed like he was serious. About 20 players shared a house. There were Senegalese, Guineans, Malians… The man who took us there kept us going until one day he disappeared,” he says. The following years, Djédjé worked on what he wanted while he tried to maintain form. “I still wanted to play in Morocco, even if it was in the second or third division.” Two years ago, he decided to return to Ivory Coast.
On Saturday afternoons, Olivier Diplo – the young man whose house cannot talk about football – plays games in the facilities provided by a school in Abidjan. On a small patch of grass bordered by tropical vegetation, he and his friends exhibit passion, physical power and nobility. The best attributes of African football. Despite his long history of disappointments, Diplo is not throwing in the towel and is looking for a new opportunity. “Maybe in a small Spanish club,” he sighs wistfully.
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