The Surfer Girls of Senegal

“We wanted to make sure that [the girls] were in a stable environment where they could grow and build on their surfing skills,” says Rhonda. “And now my girls are on their way to the Junior Olympics in 2026.” The BGS location in Senegal is just one manifestation of the organisation. Since launching Black Girls Surf in 2014, Rhonda has trained dozens of girls, and some boys, and garnered global media coverage, from Marie Claire in the UK to Outside magazine in the US. From the start, her goal has been to increase access to surfing for girls of colour, and to create professional pathways for them. While Khadjou did not compete in the 2020 Olympics, as she and Rhonda had planned, she continues to train the next generation of potential competitors at home in Ngor.

Set on Africa’s westernmost point, Senegal has long been known as a wave-rich locale. The BGS surf school, however, has helped put Ngor, specifically, on the surfing map. The previous mayor of the town has been so pleased with the positive attention that Rhonda’s group has drawn that in December 2021, he gifted them with a plot of beach-front land, where they plan to build another, bigger, surf school. The new building, said Rhonda, will have places to sleep for students who need housing and a kitchen to be able to prepare food for them.

With their permission, Dave captured some of that exuberance through his lens. It was still early days for the school, but he recalls a sense of excitement that transcended the language barrier between him and the students. “The girls were keen to show me everything,” he says. “It was humbling.”

Since then, the programme has continued to grow. As of Rhonda’s latest tally, there are 43 girls and 15 boys in the Ngor programme, of which 5 of each sex are elite surfers. And while most of those participants don’t necessarily have dreams of gold medals or brand sponsorships, Rhonda is intent on creating pathways for more people of colour – not just in the contest lineups, but in the industry infrastructure. Even more than wary parents, Rhonda says her biggest obstacle to building a pipeline of professionals from Senegal is the country’s surf federation, which sanctions and supports licensing for surf clubs and events. And so far, the federation has not recognised Black Girls Surf as an official entity. That decision effectively blocks the group from creating its own contests that can help amateur surfers earn points toward big-league events.

To Rhonda, this portrait of familiarity and sense of peace, however, is all too rare. “[The West] doesn’t see it because they just want to see the poverty – they want to heal, they want to save. And African people realise that Europeans will come down and use them for whatever products they have to promote – put a bar of surf wax in a kid’s hand, take a picture and put it on their website, like they’re really doing something. They didn’t do anything for that child, but they just made a million dollars from that photo.”

Instead of simply bemoaning surface-level marketing tactics, Rhonda suggests donating money or equipment to organisations like Surfing South Africa, that country’s governing body for the sport, or the Sierra Leone Surfing Association. She cites getting surfboards as one of the big hurdles for enthusiasts and would-be competitors; most are made overseas and far more than in industry hubs like California and Australia. And despite the challenges and what she describes as heartbreak, Rhonda has also seen dramatic change since she created the BGS club in Ngor two years ago. “It’s amazing to see what happened there,” she says. “This is the strength of women. Right?”