The Zambian football team empowering young women through joy

The sun was slowly setting and a lazy, golden glow hung as we stood on the main high street of the tiny village Kabamba, east Zambia. My co-producer, Fanny, and I could see a handful of young men tightly circling around a friend getting his haircut with a precise skin-fade. The fact that they all had freshly-sharp hairdos suggested they had been there for some time.

We sat on a bench with our phones balancing on our laps, planning the schedule for our film project. But before we knew it, some of the men from the barbers had wandered over to see what we were up to. Other passers-by did the same, and even cyclists stopped to have a look. Soon, dozens of people surrounded us, while we tried to focus on our list. What had started as Fanny and I sketching out our plan quickly became a very enjoyable collective writing process – something akin to a village council meeting. Pretty much everyone walking past that evening had now joined us, and they all had an opinion about who and what we should film.

Kabamba’s YEFI (Young Emerging Farmers’ Initiative) project had won the Equator Award for their exceptionally sustainable approach to farming. Clearly the people were committed to improving their agricultural methods where they depended solely on solar power to irrigate their crops. But it soon emerged that they also had other commitments of a rather different kind.

There were about 15 people around us and we asked what the concept of ​‘community’ meant to them. They discussed this together in Nyanja, their local tongue, before translating to us. Unanimously the group shouted with a real sense of defiance: ​“Football and church!” Justin Nzonde, a teacher at the local secondary school, stepped forward and said: ​“You have to see the girls play. Kabamba Express has a game next week.”

By now it was evident that we needed to change our plans. It would be a crime to make a film about agriculture in Kabamba without doing all we could to also capture the other meaningful facets of Kabamba, such as football. I felt seduced by the passion of the villagers, and, as a mad football fan myself, I could not resist their invitation.

Justin explained that the moment Zambia secured its place in the Women’s World Cup 2023, it saw a shift take place across the country. Now women started to claim their space on sports pitches all over Zambia. This was the first time that a Zambian team – men’s or women’s – had ever qualified for the World Cup.

Since then, thousands of Zambian communities have come together to create grassroots teams, and the number of girls and women playing is rapidly increasing. Zambia’s debut appearance at the World Cup had acted as a powerful catalyst that kindled a spirit amongst its women to challenge the inequalities that sport has seen in the country.

We shot our documentary about their innovative agricultural methods, but the following Tuesday evening we began our walk along sandy paths to watch Kabamba Express. They were to play against a neighbouring village. We arrived at the local school, where just to the rear of the building was a vast grassy plain – you could see for miles, layer upon layer of forests and fields, and distant mountains beyond thin layers of hazy light. In the near distance was a football pitch marked with wooden goalposts. As we approached, the heat of the day was still present as groups of girls sat waiting in small pools of shade, changing into their red or blue kit.

Mercifully, the heat from the sun started to cool and local coach, Soward Musonda and teacher Justin walked with the girls into the centre of the pitch. The element of inclusivity was so evident in each team. Players ranged from 12 to 18 years old. There were no gatekeepers to the space, only people who encouraged play. Standing around the centre circle, each team sang their team song. It was a ceremonial moment as the players stood together with pride. It was clear to me in that moment that this was much more than just a game – it was a space of ritual, passion and community.

Throughout the game there was an intensity as both teams played with real fight. On the perimeter of the pitch the local community watched, engaged, singing and cheering on the players. As goals went in there was a real sense of euphoria as players celebrated with dance routines, grinning from ear to ear. 

We came away from Kabamba feeling overwhelmed by the power of sport to engender and bring out so many positive aspects of human nature: connection, joy, community, togetherness, pride, and a sense of ceremony. Coming from a large city in the UK, it was also a pleasure to experience the social cohesion we sensed in this small village. Everyone seemed to belong, to have a place, and had a sense of being held by the community.

Football in Kabamba has been a source of female empowerment via joy. It has seen groups get together to do something they love and that allows them to feel free. The simplest of games is having the most profound of impacts in places like Kabamba. When it is inclusive, football unifies people, builds communities, so is a tool to be highly valued – whether in a large city or in a tiny village like Kabamba. It is something that can change people’s lives, and make them feel they belong.

A version of this story will appear in Huck 81, which is coming soon.

For more Summer of Sport content, click here.

Enjoyed this article? Follow Huck on Instagram.

Support stories like this by becoming a member of Club Huck.