Football in Cameroon
In the heart of Yaoundé, Cameroon, teenage girls are dodging dust, doubt, and defiance to chase football dreams. On cracked pitches and in a system that rarely makes space for them, they’re pushing forward with focus, fire, and a refusal to fade out.
By John Lewis & Sam Diss
Photography by Ben Rasmussen
The haze of the late dry season hangs in the air, with a few clouds suggesting a change of seasons could be near. Yellow taxis and dirt-dusted motorcycles weave through dense traffic, horns honking their atonal argot, rush-hour drivers jostling to move people and cargo across the nation’s capital. But, amidst the bustle, somehow, everything feels as it should be.
Viewed from above, Yaoundé sprawls across summits large and small, its terrain earning the nickname “The City of Seven Hills.” It’s a romantic moniker it shares with cities like Paris and Rome, even though Yaoundé boasts far more than seven hills. From this aerial vantage point, football pitches – of every conceivable size and surface – dot the cityscape, underscoring the sport’s central role in Cameroon’s identity. Roger Milla. Samuel Eto’o. The 1990 World Cup quarter-finals, defeating Maradona’s reigning world champions, Argentina. Five AFCON trophies. The iconic, infamous, sleeveless Puma kits that FIFA banned, spoilsports. In this place, wherever there’s open space, a ball is kicked. Yet for all the glory of the Indomitable Lions, the reality of domestic football is stark. Playing conditions are tough, and pathways for promising players are scarce. Especially for girls.
On one Yaoundé field, a group of girls train under the watchful eye of their coach. The drills are sharp, disciplined, each challenge baring the unmistakable edge of true competitors. They fight for every ball, marking each other with a determination bordering on obsession. In one move: Patricia, a young winger, makes a quick turn around her defender and scurries away from her opponent’s recourse before sliding a perfectly weighted pass across the field to Yolande, her striker. Yolande takes the ball deftly on her front foot and bears down on goal, but Ayissa, her marker, is on her in a flash. Dropping low, she cuts off every angle, Ayissa’s quick feet forcing Yolande to think even faster, the pair fighting for every inch, every yard, the forward trying to crack open enough daylight for a potshot, the defender desperate to extinguish any hope of that. The intensity of the game in the evening heat can make your head spin. You have to remind yourself: this is just a training session.
These young women – Patricia, Yolande, Ayissa, and their teammates – are part of AS Petrichor, a women’s club in Cameroon’s second division, and they each share a dream: to one day play as a professional. But the path to that dream can be as rough and ruinous as the terrain that rings their hometown. Petrichor Football Association, the organisation behind their team, was founded to create change in a landscape where opportunities for girls are few, and challenges are plenty.
For any aspiring footballer in Cameroon, obstacles abound: limited access to coaching, poor facilities, and few competitive opportunities. But for female players, these barriers are compounded by societal expectations and cultural norms. “Local communities perceive women’s football differently compared to men’s football,” says Yolande. “Women’s football is often dismissed as a waste of time. Many still believe that a woman’s place is in the kitchen.”
opportunities
Rachel Yaoudam, founder of Sahel Solidaire ’24, an organisation supporting girls in northern Cameroon, notes how entrenched these attitudes are. “Boys are encouraged to play football from an early age,” Yaoudam explains. “It’s seen as natural, embodying traits like ambition and assertiveness. But for girls, the view is very different, and many impose beliefs that these women should be prioritising domestic roles over athletic pursuits.”
“Young girls are expected to get married, have a husband, and raise children,” affirms Japhet Mbongo, Petrichor Football Association’s President. “Some parents even fear that by playing football girls may lose their femininity. But more and more parents are beginning to accept the idea of their daughters playing women’s football.” Today, Mbongo says, things are changing, progress is being made, “but not at the pace we would like. Still, we know that women’s football has a promising future.”
By building trust with parents and communities and investing in grassroots programs, Petrichor Football Association is working to actively challenge stereotypes and foster acceptance of girls’ participation in sports by training local coaches to nurture talent while promoting values of inclusion and gender equity necessary for these players to achieve their dreams. The name “Petrichor” speaks to this mission: the fresh smell of rain on dry earth – a symbol of hope and renewal. It reflects the organisation’s vision to transform the options for women in Cameroon. “Cultural elements can reinforce this exclusion, but efforts are being made to move from exclusion to inclusion,” says Kemi Tchoumkeu, Petrichor’s Secretary General. “We want girls to freely choose their passions and careers. And through education and community support, we’re starting to transform these prejudices.”
devoted
For Ayissa, Patricia, and Yolande, the chances those open doors offer can be life- changing. Ayissa’s father, once a promising player himself, sees in her the dreams he could not fulfil due to injury. Patricia’s family, initially reluctant, shifted their perspective thanks to her brother, who – sick of all the arguing – took matters into his own hands by simply bringing her to training himself. It is these small, personal victories that illustrate the importance of shifting mindsets in Yaoundé and beyond, one family at a time. Even symbolic gestures, like AS Petrichor’s quality new jersey, are part of this shift.
Partnering with One All Sports, the team is outfitted with professional-grade kits as they push for promotion to the first division. While a bespoke jersey may feel like a small step, it reflects the importance of professional women’s football and the stories of the players who wear it. Still, the challenges players face are striking. Even players in Cameroon’s professional women’s league must hold other jobs – bartending, hairdressing – just to make ends meet. A FIFPRO survey found that only 5% of first-division players in the country even had copies of their contracts. Issues like unpaid wages and poor facilities continue to plague the sport. “Much remains to be done to achieve the equality we need,” Yolande admits. But Petrichor is determined to set a standard for what women’s football in Cameroon can become.
Rachel Yaoudam remains optimistic, seeing football as a powerful tool for change. “Every time these girls play, they challenge norms about what’s acceptable for women,” she says. “Their visibility inspires others. It opens doors – not just in sports but in leadership, education, and beyond. Football can break cycles of poverty and inequality, offering pathways for scholarships, offering careers and financial opportunities that were once unavailable to them. Football is creating opportunities for these women and their families.”
The work of Petrichor and its players is part of a larger movement. Ayissa, Patricia, and Yolande – having recently featured for the youth national team – are on a promising trajectory. The road ahead remains difficult, but progress doesn’t have to be loud. It can be steady, deliberate. It can be the quiet determination of coaches, the unwavering support of family, or the simple act of showing up to training every day.
As Kingsley, an early coaching member of Petrichor, used to say: “Those of us working with these young girls should count ourselves lucky. We are building an empire without even knowing it.” Night falls over Yaoundé and the girls linger on the pitch, stretching tired limbs as their laughter carries across the cooling air, the season’s first few drops of rain falling from a navy sky.
The players gather their things, not quite hurrying to get out of the merciful cool on their skin. They pull on well-worn sneakers, the soles scuffed from too many miles. They sling bags over aching shoulders, their father’s words echoing in her head: ‘Keep going. For both of us.’ Others can’t quite let it go, dribbling still through the darkness, replaying moves from the game just ended.
fighting
The rain begins to fall, soft and steady now, finally, as they step into their journeys home, knowing they may live just a few streets away but still have a long way to go before achieving their dreams. Tomorrow, they’ll all be back here, fighting again for every inch and every yard, wondering if the rain will bring renewal or just a muddier pitch to play through, dreaming not just of brighter futures but the chance to fight their way there together.
Based in Yaoundé, Cameroon, Petrichor Football Association supports girls and young women through football, challenging barriers and creating new opportunities. Their name – meaning the scent of rain on dry earth – symbolises hope and change. Alongside developing young talent at AS Petrichor, they’re investing in coaching, education, and community outreach to shift the perceptions that hold players back.
Thank you to the players, coaches, and team behind Petrichor for sharing their story. Find out more about Petrichor Football here.
Petrichor is searching for clubs, sponsors, and corporate partners to join in this mission to scale equality and provide much-needed support to these athletes, their families, and communities. Partners like FC Bayern Munich and LALIGA have stepped up, but Petrichor is in need of additional sponsors to expand their impact and reach more communities through the power of sport. For more information, please reach out to co-founder Paul Dreisbach: paul@petrichorfootball.com
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