Kibalama

Since I first fell in love with football, national teams never really mattered to me. In club football, I found a home in Barcelona, a deep sense of belonging, even without living there. But on the international stage, no big team ever gave me that feeling. I watched games without really caring who won or lost. Until one man changed everything. He was the player who gave me the greatest moments I have ever known as a fan, with years of weekly joy. Yet, all those years of magic with Barcelona stood in painful contrast to his time with his country. I watched him chase his ultimate dream, only to face failure after failure, heartbreak after heartbreak. Over time, it felt like a debt owed to him. He had given us so much happiness, and he deserved to taste that same glory with his own country. So, I joined him on his journey. I shared his pain and supported him through every struggle, even when many of his own countrymen gave up on him. Through every scar, every defeat, and every painful step along the road, I stayed. And here i am today, standing at the finish line, as we are in the final chapter of his international career, carrying zero regrets as the climax of this story provided absolute justification for every ounce of faith.