SÃO VICENTE, Cape Verde — Teenagers start arriving on the soccer fields in this island nation shortly after sunrise, as fog is still clearing, to sneak in drills before school. Early evening, they’re back on the pitch for scrimmages that stretch into the night.
In soccer-obsessed Cape Verde, 10 islands a few hundred miles off the coast of West Africa, many have long shared a dream: to play professionally for marquee teams abroad, and under their home flag in international competition. Now, that dream has been turbocharged by the stunning ascent of Cape Verde’s national team, which is heading to the World Cup for the first time.
Cape Verde, with a population of about 525,000 and a diaspora about three times that size, is the second-smallest country ever to make it to soccer’s biggest event, after Iceland. National pride is at an all-time high.
Players, coaches and fans say the ways that migration is woven into the story of Cape Verde’s team — and the nation — are especially meaningful in this moment of toughening immigration policies.
In the United States, which will host the tournament in June and July along with Canada and Mexico, President Donald Trump has led mass deportation campaigns and imposed visa restrictions that disproportionately target African countries, including Cape Verde.
That has sparked concern in Cape Verde and across the continent about who will be allowed to attend the World Cup and how those who go will be treated. During the group stage, Cape Verde is scheduled to play in Atlanta, Miami and Houston.
Against this backdrop, Cape Verdeans say their team’s success is a particularly poignant testament to the benefits of migration, which has shaped not only their soccer culture but their country.
“All of our story is about immigration — it always has been,” said national team Coach Pedro Leitão Brito, who is known by his nickname, Bubista. He noted that the players on Cape Verde’s team spend most of the year playing abroad, and many are part of the diaspora with dual nationalities.
Center-back Ianique dos Santos Tavares, known as Stopira, grew up in Cape Verde but has spent most of his career in Hungary. Midfielder Kevin Pina dreamed of playing internationally as a child, his mother said, and now does — in Russia. Roberto Carlos Lopes, another center-back, known as Pico, was born in Ireland and recruited to Cape Verde’s team because his father is Cape Verdean.
“We have players from all over the world,” Bubista said. “Our strength is that we work together. … The union between the islands and the diaspora is what makes the difference.”
It was not so long ago that Cape Verde’s team did not have jerseys that fit, or proper cleats, recalled Armando Caetano Soares, who played on the first national team after independence from Portugal in 1975 and went on to become its coach. In those days, Soares said, players sometimes bought their own tickets to get to games.
As Cape Verde’s economy, shattered after a nearly two-decade-long independence struggle, started to grow, the government invested more in soccer. The nation’s football federation grew more organized, and coaches began to take advantage of Cape Verde’s huge diaspora, which is the result of voluntary and forced migration over generations.
“Today, every aspect has changed,” said Soares, 69, a wiry man in a black-and-white-striped Adidas sweatsuit with a glass of red wine in his hand, celebrating after a recreational Sunday soccer game. “They are getting more professional; they are getting more organized.”
But Bubista, 55, fit with a serious face and a quick smile, is under no illusions about what the team is up against this summer. He let out a little laugh when asked about Cape Verde’s World Cup lineup, which includes a first match June 15 against Spain, among the top teams in the world.
“The team needs to be better,” Bubista said, deadpan, of his players. “But we will be. I have confidence.”
There’s so much team pride here that kids have traded out their Lionel Messi jerseys for ones from Cape Verde. The team’s gear is flying off the shelves. Teenage players say the national team’s members are their role models.
“My motivation is the players on the national team,” said Tiago Semedo, 15, who was playing an evening scrimmage. “They grew up here, and now they’re representing us … it feels amazing.”
Matis Lima Barros, 22, a Cape Verdean midfielder who grew up in France and now plays with a club team in São Vicente, said that the country’s strength lies in its diversity — and how it is bridged on the field.
“In every aspect, Cape Verde is getting bigger,” he said. taking a pause from joking with friends on the team in a mixture of French, English and Creole.
“Everything that goes up is people coming together,” he said. “There are no solutions without unity.”
Love for the country has also united players, even though they live and work worldwide. No matter where they live, said Mário Semedo, president of Cape Verde’s football federation, they spend their holidays in Cape Verde and start businesses here. All players speak Creole, the lingua franca here. Praia is the capital.
It helps that Bubista — whose nickname comes from Boa Vista, the island where he grew up before settling in São Vicente — played on the national team and rose through the leadership ranks before becoming the coach, Semedo said.
A few years ago, when the team wasn’t doing as well, there was talk of replacing Bubista with someone from Europe, Semedo added. (“Football is like this,” he said with a shrug. “People wanted a change.”) But now, the tide has shifted and the quiet coach commands a celebrity status whose messaging, fans say, feels especially resonant in the Trump era.
Maria da Graça Moreno dos Santos, the mother of star player Stopira, who worked in a market in Praia selling soccer jersey’s emblazoned with Cape Verde’s unofficial motto, “no stress,” said that rumors had been swirling about who would be allowed to attend the World Cup. In January, the State Department added Cape Verde to a list of countries whose residents are required to post a $15,000 bond to obtain a visa, although it is possible players’ relatives will qualify for exceptions.
“If Trump does not impede me, I will be there,” dos Santos said. She recalled being in shock watching her son score a goal in the October game that qualified the team for the World Cup.
Many here say they’ve already felt the impacts of Trump’s policies and are struggling to get the same visas that, for years, allowed them to move freely between Cape Verde and the U.S. for work.
“We know that the world is changing,” Semedo said adding that officials were increasingly aware that they must encourage young people to dream of success abroad, but also create an environment and incentives for people to want to stay in Cape Verde.
Despite the long odds, Semedo added, the immediate goal is clear: Victory in the U.S.
“Us Cape Verdeans, we have a lot of hope,” Semedo said. “Our country is a little country without many means. But we know how to fight.”
Cátia Lush Sequeira contributed to this report.
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