Known as ‘The Florist’, Sebastien Desabre cultivated belief, discipline and identity to guide DR Congo to its finest World Cup campaign. (EPA Images pic)
PETALING JAYA: There was a time when 1974 belonged to Zaire.
In June, it became the first nation from sub-Saharan Africa to play at the Fifa World Cup. In October, it hosted Muhammad Ali and George Foreman in the Rumble in the Jungle.
One event entered sporting mythology. The other descended into one of football’s saddest stories.
Ali’s victory over Foreman transformed Kinshasa into the centre of the sporting world. The chants of “Ali bomaye!” echoed far beyond the ring and became part of sporting folklore.
The football team, however, returned home from West Germany carrying a very different legacy.
After suffering a 9-0 defeat to Yugoslavia, the Zaire players reportedly received a chilling warning from dictator Mobutu Sese Seko before facing Brazil.
Another heavy defeat, they were told, could carry consequences when they returned home.
Fear replaced freedom.
During the match, defender Mwepu Ilunga sprinted from the defensive wall to boot away a Brazilian free-kick before it was taken.
Television audiences laughed. Commentators mocked him. The moment became shorthand for African football’s supposed naivety.
Years later, Ilunga explained what had really happened: he wanted to be sent off.
A red card would waste precious seconds, reduce the risk of further goals and perhaps spare his teammates from an even greater humiliation.
The world had misunderstood the moment. For decades, that misunderstanding became part of the country’s football identity.
Rewriting history
The Leopards claimed the country’s first World Cup victory over Uzbekistan and declared themselves as one of the tournament’s surprise packages. (EPA Images pic)
Fifty-two years later, another Congolese team arrived at the World Cup carrying none of that fear.
Now called the Democratic Republic of Congo, they did not leave with the trophy, but with something almost as significant.
The Leopards earned the country’s first World Cup point. They scored their first World Cup goal against Cristiano Ronaldo’s Portugal. They claimed their first World Cup victory against Uzbekistan.
Then came their finest performance of all. England, one of the tournament favourites, needed 86 minutes to finally break their resistance.
Those milestones tell only part of the story. What mattered more was how they achieved them.
This was a team that defended with discipline, attacked with purpose and played without the burden of reputation. It never looked overawed by bigger names or richer football nations. It looked like it belonged.
That alone marked a remarkable departure from the ghosts of 1974.
A different image of Congo
For much of the past three decades, DR Congo has entered global headlines for reasons no nation would choose.
Civil conflict, mass displacement, disease, political instability and one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises.
Football solved none of those problems. Nor did it pretend to.
Instead, it offered something rarer.
For nearly three weeks, millions of people around the world encountered another image of DR Congo through a football team that played with courage, intelligence and composure.
It did not replace one narrative with another. It reminded the world that both can exist at the same time.
The florist’s work
Much of that transformation bore the imprint of coach Sebastien Desabre.
Nicknamed “The Florist” for his ability to help players blossom, Desabre built his side around collective purpose rather than individual stardom.
His team stayed compact without the ball. It pressed intelligently. Every player understood his role.
Portugal discovered that. So did Uzbekistan.
England eventually found a way through, but only after spending almost the entire match searching for answers.
The Leopards did not behave like grateful guests. They competed like equals.
Brian Cipenga, who built his career outside Europe’s elite leagues, announced himself on football’s biggest stage with DR Congo’s historic strike against England. (EPA Images pic)
A wider shift
Viewed on its own, DR Congo’s World Cup might be dismissed as a spirited underdog story.
Viewed alongside everything else that unfolded during this tournament, it becomes something more revealing.
Morocco defeated the Netherlands. Paraguay eliminated Germany. Cape Verde frustrated Spain. Senegal pushed Belgium to the brink.
DR Congo almost added England to that growing list.
One upset can be explained away. A succession of them demands a different conclusion.
The balance of power in world football is shifting. African teams are no longer admired only for their athleticism or flair.
They are tactically disciplined, mentally resilient and increasingly comfortable against the game’s traditional powers.
The psychological gap has narrowed, perhaps disappeared.
DR Congo became one of the clearest expressions of that evolution.
The silent reminder
Motionless for 90 minutes, Michel Kuka Mboladinga, known as ‘Lumumba Vea’, turned the World Cup stands into a silent stage for his country’s history. (EPA Images pic)
There was another image from this World Cup that quietly travelled around the globe.
He never touched the ball.
Dressed in a striking red suit, Michel Kuka Mboladinga, better known as Lumumba Vea, stood motionless throughout DR Congo’s matches in tribute to Patrice Lumumba, the country’s first prime minister.
Against Colombia, he silently covered his mouth and mimed a gun pointed at his head. His gesture drew attention to the violence that continues to scar eastern Congo.
It was a reminder that football cannot erase history. But it can create moments when history is impossible to ignore.
The world is no longer looking at DR Congo through the lens of what happened in 1974 but at what happened in 2026.
For once, the conversation was not about conflict or catastrophe. It was about a football team that refused to carry the weight of old stereotypes.
The Rumble in the Jungle made the world look at Zaire. The Leopards made it look again.


