Rokia used to be afraid of the water.
She’d heard the stories of people washed away by strong currents. The folklore deity Mami Wata was said to live in these waters, and children were taught to both respect and fear her.
So even though the beach, with its cream-colored sand and swaying palms, was just feet from her doorstep, the teenager would only put her toes in the ocean once in a while.
Why We Wrote This
Côte d’Ivoire has hundreds of miles of coastline, but many people there are afraid of the water. The country’s surfers are trying to change that.
“I never knew how to swim,” says Rokia, who lives in this coastal town one hour east of Côte d’Ivoire’s capital, Abidjan. “My parents told me, ‘Don’t go in the water, you’ll drown.’”
But a year-and-a-half ago, things changed. She approached local surf star, Souleymane Sidibé, and said she wanted to learn to surf, too. Now, she goes out a couple of times a week and says she has found a new passion.
The fear of the ocean that Rokia grew up with is not unusual here. Despite Côte d’Ivoire’s nearly 300 miles of coastline, many people don’t know how to swim. The World Health Organization estimated that about 1,800 Ivorians drowned in 2021, the most recent year for which data is available.
Now, the country’s growing community of surfers is trying to change that, using their sport to help children learn to love the ocean. At the same time, they are hosting more international competitions and putting Côte d’Ivoire’s waves on the map.
“For a long time, surfing in Cote d’Ivoire was asleep,” says
Sylvain Kouao, vice president of the Ivorian Surf Federation. “People here are starting to realize that surfing can be a way out, and offer kids something for tomorrow.”
Making the world bigger
Without surfing, Souleymane Sidibé isn’t sure where he would be. He never excelled in school – he was always better at catching waves.
However, “it took a lot of convincing to get my parents on board” with a life built around surfing, says Mr. Sidibé, on a recent weekday morning at Badro Beach in Assouindé.
Now, Mr. Sidibé runs Souley Surf School, one of a handful of Ivorian surf schools that have opened in the last decade.
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff
“What is this part of the board called? Who wants to demonstrate how we paddle?” Mr. Sidibé calls out during a group lesson. A 10-year-old girl in a hot-pink swimsuit flops down onto a long, blue board to mock paddle, her fingertips brushing the sand.
Although Assouindé and nearby Assinie-Mafia are top spots for wealthy tourists and weekenders from Abidjan, the rural villages that line the coast experience high levels of poverty. Many of Mr. Sidibé’s students come from families who struggle to pay their school fees and give them enough to eat.
That’s why Mr. Sidibé gives his students free lunch every Wednesday after practice. They surf on boards donated by the Swiss-German nonprofit Provide the Slide.
“Most of the kids here don’t have easy lives,” says surfer Nadi Saddy, with whom Mr. Sidibé founded the nonprofit Surf Côte d’Ivoire in 2022. “We teach them about surf culture and how to respect nature, but also, that surfing can help them earn a living.”
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff
The organization encourages children to use surfing as a way to see the world. If they’re good enough, they can travel to surf competitions abroad, or meet traveling surfers when Côte d’Ivoire plays host. Surf Côte d’Ivoire also teaches older students to become surf teachers themselves, so they can make an income offering private lessons to out-of-town visitors.
Putting Côte d’Ivoire on the map
Still, obstacles remain to building a bigger surfing scene in Côte d’Ivoire. There is only one manufacturer of surfboards in the country, The West Factory, which produces only 50-60 boards per year. The vast majority must be imported. Plus, many people still believe Mami Wata is watching.
The water spirit – often depicted with the upper body of a woman and the lower body of a snake or fish – has a strong prominence in many West African cultures.
“Everyone has their own interpretation of what Mami Wata represents, but it’s a big reason why people here don’t swim,” says Mr. Saddy. “We tell people, it’s OK, we’re here to guide you.”
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff
In February, The Africa Surf Tour was held for the first time in Côte d’Ivoire. The competition, run by the African Surf Confederation, brought top-level surfers and visitors from across Africa to the small town of Assinie. Then, in March, Assinie played host to the Côte d’Ivoire Surf Open, featuring athletes from seven African countries.
Mr. Saddy released a documentary on May 7, “The Rising Dawn,” about the burgeoning Côte d’Ivoire surfing scene, the unifying power of surfing, and the communities that line the Ivorian coast.
“When people think of surfing, they think Tahiti, Bali, Hawaii,” says Mr. Kouao, of the surf federation. “But West Africa has some really great spots.”
“Lots of joy”
Part of Côte d’Ivoire’s attraction is the fact that its coast remains relatively unknown to surfers outside Africa.
“The other day when we went out, there were only four of us in the water,” says Alexis Claustres, a French surfer visiting Assouindé. “For us, as Europeans who are used to these overcrowded spots, it was precious.”
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff
Even within Africa, most surfers think of South Africa or Morocco for surfing long before Côte d’Ivoire.
“But the young generation is starting to change this,” says longtime surfer Badro Escobar, who runs a hotel in Assouindé.
Out on Badro Beach, that excitement is palpable. As clouds roll in and drops of rain begin to dot the water, some of the students in Mr. Sidibé’s surf class head toward the shelter of a nearby hotel. Then, in an instant, it begins to downpour.
But the weather doesn’t stop the group for long. As the rain kicks up foam and spray, Rokia coasts along on her board, standing up and coasting along a glassy wave. After a half-hour, two 8-year-old girls run under the hotel awning, shivering but giddy.
“Surfing brings me joy,” says Awa, wrapping herself in a dry T-shirt and sharing a glass of hibiscus juice with her friend, Sali.
“Yes, me too,” says Sali. “Lots of joy.”