MILAN TO TATOUINE: A Ball's Journey By Salmen Ayadi
This piece is written to document a journey shaped by football, following a ball across beaches and a Berber village in Southern Tunisia, from Milan to Tataouine, to inspire you to take actions for Football Without Borders Kenya by supporting my first-ever fundraising campaign to purchase balls to donate to the foundation that helps children and youth of Kenya to play, learn, and dream.
R9 Aesthetics & the Power of Grassroots Football
If I were to ask you what your first football memory was, what would you say?
For me, it is a lasting memory etched in my mind that never fades: the uncanny Ronaldo in his never-before-seen silver Nike Mercurial boots "Il Fenomeno," at the 1998 FIFA World Cup in France. His aesthetics in the tournament, natural flair, explosive pace, and dribbling skills shaped the future of a seven-year-old boy growing up in a modest Tunisian household, captivated by football performance and design aesthetics realms.
Beyond R9's palpable influence on me, let's rewind to his humble beginnings in Brazil's grassroots football. Would the world have seen R9 if, as a kid, he had not kicked a ball barefoot in the streets of Rio at a very early age? Would Inter fans have nicknamed him "Il Fenomeno" without those early touches and that relentless hunger? I doubt it.
© 2025 Salmen Ayadi
Over the past few years, through constant travel to different destinations, I have come to understand the true essence of local football culture and its significance to communities. They have shaped my view of the game as a universal language of self-expression, change and hope, impacting millions of lives beyond the 90 minutes. And that, to me, is pure gold, innit?
A football practice session of the local grassroots team on a hilltop in Taghazout, Morocco. Climbing the hill is already a chore in itself. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
Nothing beats the Senegalese passion for playing football in Dakar, Senegal. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
Ball Juggling in Milan to the Rhythm of Timeless Raï Classics
Astonished by the Senegalese passion for playing street and beach football, on my way back from the adventurous trip, still carrying memories and human connections, I was determined to replicate it in Milan. I bought a Tango-patterned ball to practise juggling and to apply tricks barefoot in a green space in my spare time, in solo mode, improving my touch and control to the rhythm of timeless Raï classics like “Marseillais du Nord”, “Oran Marseille”, and “Chefou L’amour Madar Fiya” blasting from the speaker and fuelling my Maghreb adrenaline.
What I had not known was that the ball would reach the Sahara Desert, to a Berber village in Tataouine, where I shared a football match on a blazing afternoon with the boys of Chenini. I had decided to bring the ball home and give it to the last kid I met on my final day as a gesture of kindness, aiming to bring joy to a child or group of children and highlight the power of small acts.
© 2025 Salmen Ayadi
Scorching Mornings and Breezy Football Afternoons.
I kicked off the vacation with short stays across three coastal cities along Tunisia's southern shoreline, where I enjoyed sea dips in the Mediterranean water and tanned my skin under the blazing sun, which drained the sunscreen faster than a prime Obafemi Martins on a counterattack. My afternoons were dedicated to capturing sunset moments and kickabout sessions with beachgoers along the sandy shores set to the beats of Raï.
My afternoons were dedicated to capturing sunset moments and kickabout sessions with beachgoers along the sandy shores set to the beats of Raï. As I anticipated, the ball attracted many local beachgoers who joined me in playing, allured by its appearance as the ball on the beach is never just a ball; it is a non-verbal communication tool that entices people to stop, talk, and engage in light kicks, juggling, or a short session of Altinha on the go.
These brief moments of football often bring back old memories; you would hear phrases like: "I used to be a baller in the lower divisions, but you know, injuries ended the career early" or "Haven't practised sports or kicked a ball since high-school days". These small conversations would always spark laughter and casual banter among us. My answer would always be, "It is never too late, you've still got time to play, Sir."
Myself juggling with the ball on the shores of Mahdia. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
© 2025 Salmen Ayadi
Just like the Senegalese, rotating football shirts was an essential part of my holiday. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
The Maghrib call to prayer, the final whistle that ends the game in Chenini.
Half an hour's drive from Tataouine, Chenini is a village perched on a hilltop with breathtaking views. It is home to nearly 300 souls deeply rooted in Berber heritage. Life here is simple; it revolves around a primary school, a small grocery store, a mosque, a social café where senior locals gather to discuss politics, a handful of souvenir shops for tourists and visitors, and a modest football pitch for the youth to spend their afternoon in. Notably, the internet was introduced to the village in 2013, connecting this remote community to the rest of the world.
© 2025 Salmen Ayadi
The village of Chenini, Tataouine. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
Football pitch in the middle of the desert, in Chenini, Tatatouine. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
During my afternoon stroll to catch a sunset view on the village hilltop, I spotted a group of kids playing a football match on a dusty pitch down the hill. I rushed down to join the game while the Imam's voice came from the mosque's loudspeaker, calling for Maghrib prayer. Hearing the call was profoundly moving, as it is one of the things I have missed since moving abroad. 
Sadly, I was late to the game because the Maghrib call to prayer had sounded the final whistle upon my arrival with the ball in hand. One of the village kids told me, "Once we hear the Muezzin calling the maghrib to prayer, it ends our game. It is our final whistle, that's a family rule, period." I had convinced a few boys to practice light kicks on the pitch with me to try the ball, after I told them it would be theirs as of tomorrow, which sent them into a frenzy of happiness that made me extend my stay by an extra night to allow me to join the boys for a football match in the middle of the desert the next day, at 6 PM.
The next day, I arrived early at the meeting point. It was a perfect time to play a football match, as the heat began to ease slightly. I waited for the kids at the edge of the main road, took pictures of them, and then we climbed down the rocky cliff together. Some boys had many questions for me, like "Which football team do you support?" or "Who will keep the ball after you leave? "Can someone have the ball two nights in a row at home?" Their endless curiosity made me smile, and I could feel the excitement for the promising match near the colossal desert valley.
The boys and I walked downhill to the pitch with careful steps for our 6PM Match kickoff. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
The boys tested their new ball before kick-off. Everyone wanted to keep the ball at their home first, and others wanted it for two nights in a row. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
The boys of Chenini and I, a few minutes before kickoff for a souvenir photo. © 2025 Salmen Ayadi
Aside from the Altinha sessions on the shores of Morocco and Senegal, my last football match was in April with Chinatown Soccer Club. Since then, I have not played a proper match. Now, here I was, in the middle of the desert, in a modest village of Chenini, sharing a football match with a group of kids I didn't know, eager to play again and even more delighted to see their faces light up when they saw their new ball, knowing their current ball was worn out.
My time in Chenini was unforgettable. I came with the intention of spending a night in the village before heading home, wrapping up a series of intense travels. I ended up staying two nights and sharing a football match with the village's boys. Indeed, we shared a fantastic football match. I played for both sides for around 20 minutes each before letting them savour their new, fully pumped-up ball, which didn't take much effort to do, just intention and heart.
A Call-To-Action to Football Without Borders-Kenya
After realising how a ball can spark joy and spread smiles in a community, I wrote this piece about my ball's journey to showcase its power and how youth communities continue to play the game despite life’s challenges. I decided to act on it and launch a fundraising campaign for Football Without Borders - Kenya after networking with its founder, George Osoya, to express my intention to volunteer within his organisation and support from my position. A gesture of giving back to a community in need, and who knows, to help and inspire rising stars from Kenya. If you liked my story, I appreciate your contribution to my fundraising initiative supporting sports humanitarian causes.
Your donation can help provide equipment and support to these communities, making a real difference to help Kenyan youth thrive through sports. Your support can truly make a difference. (https://gofund.me/51a50d27b).
Salmen Ayadi with Love. @salmen_ayadi