After a ball has been kicked, the verdict from much of the football establishment seems already written.
There remains a yawning communication gulf between the First World, which largely shapes football narratives, and the Third World, where most African countries belong.
It is therefore hardly surprising that podcasts, previews, pundits and purists have scarcely given any of Africa’s ten representatives a realistic chance of lifting the World Cup diadem.
Yet football, as the old idiom goes, is not played on paper. Indeed, it would be premature to proclaim that destiny is finally tapping Africa on the shoulder.
But the gradual transition from perennial pretenders to genuine contenders appears more permanent than fleeting. Morocco’s historic semi-final run in Qatar four years ago shattered glass ceilings and, with a record ten qualifiers at the first 48-team World Cup, Africa arrived not merely to make up the numbers but to knock on the door of history.
Still, the ghosts of colonialism and, if one prefers, the neo-colonial syndrome, continue to haunt the continent.
Millions of Africans instinctively throw their emotional weight behind France, Spain, Portugal, Germany or Argentina rather than their own. Such psychological dependence is perhaps the last empire yet to crumble.
Bad omens
Ironically, omens have already emerged to test believers. Africa’s finest referee, Somali official Omar Abdulkadir Artan, was controversially denied entry into the United States, depriving the continent of one of its proudest symbols.
Meanwhile, Morocco’s golden generation has aged and fresh controversies with Senegal over the African crown have left bruises and divisions.
More troubling is that few African squads possess the global superstars capable of matching the glittering cast assembled by Argentina, France and Brazil.
On paper, Morocco remain Africa’s standard bearers. Drawn alongside Brazil, Scotland and Haiti, the Atlas Lions possess enough tactical maturity to survive Group C, although repeating their 2022 miracle seems unlikely.
Count it a success if they make it to the quarterfinals this time and prove that the qtara heroics were not a one off.
Senegal, despite sharing Group I with France, Iraq and Norway, retain their physicality and tournament pedigree.
But internal disputes and off-field distractions may prove costly. Naysayers doubt they can make it farthest riding on the back of Saudi Arabia based Sadio mane.
Côte d’Ivoire face Germany and Ecuador in Group E. The former African champions have quality but their margin for error is razor-thin.
Egypt’s hopes rest heavily on Mohamed Salah. Belgium and Iran represent difficult hurdles.
Tough call
Algeria must somehow navigate Argentina and Austria. Tunisia, South Africa, Ghana and Cape Verde have all landed in shark-infested waters and would regard progression as a triumph.
For Ugandans, the closest emotional attachment lies with Sébastien Desabre’s DR Congo.
The former Cranes coach has transformed the Leopards into a disciplined and resilient machine playing with structure rather than chaos. Yoane Wissa shoulders the burden while youngsters such as Ngal’ayel Mukau embody the future.
But fate has dealt the Congolese perhaps the cruelest hand. Portugal and Colombia await in Group K, with Uzbekistan no pushovers.
The return to the grand stage after a 52-year absence is itself a fairy tale, but extending it beyond the quarter-finals appears a bridge too far.
Perhaps that is the paradox of Africa’s largest contingent. There is a shared belief that these ten teams may produce fewer romantic shocks than Cameroon in 1990, Senegal in 2002, Ghana in 2010 or Morocco in 2022.
Instead, they risk becoming bridesmaids in a tournament too close to call and already overshadowed by geopolitics and visa controversies.
But football has always loved tearing up scripts. And should one African flag still be fluttering deep into July, the world may finally discover that the continent’s greatest enemy was never talent. It was doubt.