AFCON U17: Mali vs Cameroon I

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to CRTV's live coverage of the second match in Group B of the Africa U17 Championship. Tonight, we have an exciting showdown between Mali and Cameroon, a clash between two talented teams eager to make their mark in this tournament.

We've already seen plenty of action today, with South Africa and Ivory Coast sharing the spoils in a thrilling 2-2 draw. That match had four goals, and we certainly wouldn't mind a similar goal-fest here tonight!

This is the 11th edition of the Africa U17 Championship, and the pitch today is in slightly better condition compared to yesterday's games. At this level, these young players are already considered athletes in their own right, and while this is a youth competition, the pride of representing one's nation remains just as strong. Wearing the national colors comes with high expectations, and for many of these boys, this is the first step toward a professional career and, ultimately, the senior national team.

Now, let's pause for a moment as we listen to the national anthems of both teams.

(A few minutes later, after the anthems are played...)

And now, let's take a look at how the two teams are lining up for this clash, starting with Mali.

Head coach Baye Bah has gone with a solid 4-3-3 formation, a system that allows flexibility between defense and attack. In goal, we have Alou Traoré, the last line of defense for the Malians.

In front of him, the back four will be: Siaka Bagayoko on the left, Ismaël Traoré holding the right flank, while in the heart of defense, we have Abdoul Karim Danté and Mamadou Fofana, who will be tasked with keeping Cameroon's attackers in check.

In midfield, they're going with a trio to control possession and dictate play. Mamadou Sangaré sits deepest, playing as the anchor, while Moussa Diakité and Mohamed Haidara will look to drive forward and link up with the attack.

And speaking of attack, Mali have a dangerous frontline leading their charge. On the left wing, we have Aly Mallé, a quick and tricky player capable of making things happen. On the opposite flank, Sidiki Maïga will be hoping to stretch Cameroon's defense, and leading the line as the central striker is Boubacar Traoré, the man expected to put the ball in the net.

Now let's take a look at Cameroon's lineup, led by coach Joseph Atangana. Since taking over, his team has been on an incredible run of form, and they come into this match full of confidence after that dominant 5-1 win against Portugal U17 last month.

Atangana has opted for a 4-2-3-1 setup, a formation that gives his side plenty of balance.

Djomo Tchotcheu starts in goal, and ahead of him, the defensive unit consists of Kalamou Epesse on the left, Ngassa Njike covering the right, while in the center of defense, the ever-reliable duo of Ouambo Toukam and Jean Mvondo will be looking to shut down Mali's attacking threats.

In midfield, Cameroon have a double pivot sitting just in front of the defense. Martin Hongla and Félix Djoubairou will be responsible for breaking up opposition attacks and distributing the ball forward, while just ahead of them, Ngono Ngoah operates in that attacking midfield role, tasked with creating chances and linking up with the forwards.

Now, onto the frontline, and the name that has everyone talking—Marcel Ndonga.

Just 14 years old, but already the leader of this attack, Ndonga takes up his position on the left wing, where his speed, dribbling, and goal-scoring ability make him the most dangerous player on the pitch. He's been on fire in recent months, scoring 13 goals in just five matches for the U17s, including that memorable hat-trick against Portugal. All eyes will be on him tonight.

Leading the line as the central striker is Ignatius Ganago, a powerful forward who will be looking to make those crucial runs in behind the defense. And finally, on the right wing, we have Fokem Namekong, a player with plenty of pace and technical ability to cause problems for Mali's backline.

The lineups are set, and we are just moments away from kickoff! The atmosphere inside the Municipal Stadium in Niamey is electric. The stands are filled with fans chanting and dancing, eager to see their young stars shine on this grand stage.

One thing is for sure—I'm hoping for goals! I've never commented on a game that ended 0-0, and I certainly don't want that streak to break tonight. Whether they are beautiful screamers or scrappy own goals, I'll take them all!

Final preparations are being made on the pitch, and in just a few moments, the referee will blow the whistle to start this highly anticipated match between Mali and Cameroon!

...

...

I bounced lightly on my toes, shifting my weight from side to side. The pitch beneath me felt solid, familiar—but everything else was different.

I scanned the stadium, taking in the sea of spectators. Thousands of voices merged into a single, pulsing wave of cheers, chants, and drumbeats, rattling the air. This was nothing like the quiet academy games back home. Even the qualifiers against Ghana hadn't felt this massive.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a weight pressing against my chest. Nervous? Maybe. My hands twitched at my sides.

I took a deep breath. The scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the faint, distant smell of smoke from the stands. Under the floodlights, the heat from the pitch rose in waves. This was it.

I clenched my fists, then slapped my cheeks twice, snapping myself back into focus.

"We are Cameroon. We are here to win."

My eyes locked onto the ball at midfield. The match hadn't even started, but I could already see how it would play out. I knew what I had to do.

Activate special boost.

> Defensive Cohesion +5% (Activated)

The nerves faded. All that remained was the game.

The referee was ready. I was ready.

…

The match had been going for two minutes, and so far, it was a bit stale. Both teams were feeling each other out, passing cautiously, waiting for an opening.

We had a throw-in near the halfway line in our own half. I was further up the left wing, already in Mali's half, watching as Kalamou stepped up to take the throw-in.

I saw Jean receiving the ball and looking toward Djoubairou. The pass was on—but something felt off. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Mali's number nine, Boubacar Traoré, lurking behind Djoubairou like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

A split-second decision could save us.

"Jean! Don't pass it there!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the noise of the crowd.

But it was too late.

Jean had already made the pass. At that exact moment, Traoré sprang forward, sliding between Djoubairou and the ball like a shadow, intercepting cleanly before exploding forward toward our goal.

"What a mistake from Jean Mvondo, who gives the ball away to Boubacar Traoré!" the commentator's voice roared.

My heart pounded as I saw the danger unfold.

Traoré was already surging forward, our entire defensive line caught flat-footed. There was open space in front of him.

Jean and Toukam scrambled to recover, sprinting behind him.

"Boubacar Traoré on the run toward the Cameroonian goal…"

I clenched my fists, willing Jean and Toukam to catch up. Step by step, they closed the gap, but Traoré had too much of a head start.

He reached the penalty box—one-on-one with Djomo.

"The Cameroonian defenders are chasing, but they can't reach him! Traoré enters the box! It's just him and the goalkeeper!"

Djomo rushed forward, arms wide, lowering his body, trying to make himself as big as possible.

Traoré swung his foot back.

Boubacar shooooooots!!!

A flash of movement—then the ball soared high over the crossbar.

I exhaled sharply.

"Oh no! What a miss from Mali! Boubacar Traoré had the perfect chance, but he blasts it completely over the goal!"

The stadium buzzed. Some Malian fans groaned, others clapped in frustration. We got lucky.

"A dangerous chance gifted by a mistake in Cameroon's defense! They can't afford those errors! This time, they were lucky Mali missed—but what about next time?"

I looked at Jean, who had his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He knew he messed up. We all did.

We just had to make sure there was no next time.

…

I exhaled deeply as I jogged toward Jean. That was too close. If we had conceded that early, it would have been a disaster.

"Don't worry, bro," I said, tapping his back. "It's just the start, a small mistake. Forget it—we just have to fight back and score since they missed their chance."

Jean gave a small nod, but I could still see the frustration in his eyes. No time to dwell on it. I turned and sprinted back to my position.

Six minutes in, and we were already struggling. I hadn't even touched the ball yet. Every time we tried to attack, Mali's midfield cut off our passes, pressing and tackling aggressively. We couldn't break past them. If I kept waiting up front, I'd be a spectator the whole match. I had to start dropping deep to get involved.

Right now, Mali had an indirect free-kick near the center circle in our half.

Mohamed Haidara stepped up and sent the ball high into the Cameroonian box. I jumped and stretched my neck out, heading it clear beyond the box, but it landed right at the feet of Siaka Bagayoko. He immediately played it into Haidara, who was already sprinting toward the top of the penalty arc.

Haidara controls… he's pushing forward!

He's inside the box! He keeps Kalamou at bay with his arm—Kalamou has to be careful here, or that's a penalty!

Haidara shoots—!

Ohhh! What a miss again from Mali! The shot flies wide to the right!

Six minutes in, and Cameroon is under siege.

Mali is dominating possession, creating all the chances, while Cameroon has yet to register a single shot.

Where is the team that demolished Portugal U17 just weeks ago? Right now, they look unrecognizable. If they don't start fighting back soon, Mali might crush them completely.

…

On the sidelines, Coach Atangana was visibly animated, waving his arms and barking instructions as his players reset after Mali's missed opportunity.

"Focus!" he shouted. "You have to tighten that defense! We can't keep suffering like this!"

He turned his attention to Namekong. "You need to track back! Help out the defense!"

His voice cut through the noise of the stadium as he turned toward Jean and Toukam. "Jean! Toukam! You have to stay sharp! You're leaving too many gaps in the back!"

Then, his eyes locked onto me. "Marcel! You already know what to do! This isn't your first time in a match like this—drop deeper, ask for the ball! Keep moving so they can't mark you easily! If you do that, you'll find the gaps!"

I gave him a quick nod, already processing his words. He was right—I had to start making things happen.

…

In the 12th minute, Mali won a corner. The ball was whipped toward the near post, where Boubacar Traoré leaped high, beating his marker to the header. The ball smacked against the post with a loud thud before bouncing back into play. Toukam reacted quickly, rushing to clear it away, but his clearance only sent the ball just outside the box.

As I saw the ball coming toward me, I controlled it instantly and turned sharply, breaking into a sprint toward the Malian half.

I pushed forward rapidly, already nearing the halfway line when I felt the presence of Maiga just behind me, his footsteps pounding the grass as he chased me down. He was quick—almost matching my speed step for step.

Still, I pressed on, crossing into Malian territory, but Maiga refused to let up. He was right on my shoulder, matching every stride. Sensing his pressure, I abruptly stopped, forcing him to react. He skidded slightly before regaining his stance, positioning himself directly in front of me for a one-on-one duel.

With the ball at my feet, I began a sequence of step-overs, shifting my weight from left to right, testing his balance. His eyes stayed locked onto the ball, his body tense. Then, with a sudden flick of my right foot, I feinted to one side before immediately pushing the ball forward with the inside of my left foot—nutmeg!

I had beaten him.

But before I could accelerate past, I felt a sharp impact on my leg. My balance disappeared, and the next moment, I was crashing down onto the pitch.

Fweee!!!

The referee's whistle shrieked through the air, halting the play.

Sitting on the grass, I exhaled and took a moment to adjust my socks, feeling the sting where Maiga's tackle had caught me. It wasn't a brutal foul, but it was enough to stop my run—probably intentional.

…

Minutes passed, and the match had shifted. Cameroon was no longer under Mali's control. We had finally woken up and were fighting back.

Our attacks mainly came from the left—either through me hugging the touchline or drifting inside to find space. Cross after cross flew into the Malian box, but each time, the goalkeeper caught it, or our headers went off target. Despite our momentum, we still hadn't found the breakthrough.

In the 22nd minute, Djomo restarted play with a goal kick, launching the ball wide toward Kalamou. He took a quick glance upfield before sending a sharp pass into midfield, targeting Hongla.

But before Hongla could take control, Sangaré intercepted it, his foot stretching out just in time. The ball bounced awkwardly between them, a brief struggle ensued, and in the chaos, it was sent spiraling back into our box.

Djomo reacted quickly, stepping forward to scoop it up. Wasting no time, he rolled the ball out wide to Kalamou again. This time, instead of holding onto it, Kalamou turned sharply and rifled a powerful pass down the left flank—straight toward me.

I spotted the ball racing toward me, and with the Malian right-back, Ismaël Traoré, breathing down my neck, I didn't hesitate.

I sprinted toward it, angling my body just right. As the ball reached me, I let it roll up to my foot, then—flick—I used the outside of my boot to lift it over my opponent's head while spinning away. The ball arced in the air, clearing him cleanly, and as it dropped, I was already past him, charging down the flank without breaking stride.

"What a beautiful move from Marcel! He completely beats Ismaël Traoré and now has open space to run!" the commentator's voice rang through the stadium.

I kept pushing forward, the penalty box approaching fast. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw the Malian center-back step forward, leaving a gap behind him.

I didn't even think—just acted. With a quick pass through the opening, I fed the ball into Ganago's path.

Ganago took a strong first touch inside the box. The angle was tight, but he still went for it, aiming across goal.

Boom!

The shot was firm, but Mali's keeper, Alou Traoré, reacted fast. He stretched low to his right, just managing to deflect it away.

The ball spun toward the left side of the box, where the Malian left-back arrived first, blasting it clear past the center circle.

"Incredible save by Alou Traoré! Ganago was so close, but the Malian goalkeeper keeps his team alive!" the commentator shouted.

I clenched my fists in frustration. "Arrrgh!" That was our best chance yet.

But as I looked at Ganago, I saw the disappointment in his face. I raised my hands and clapped toward him.

"It's okay! We just have to try again!" I called out, offering him a reassuring nod.

…

In the 30th minute, Namekong received the ball near the right flank in Mali's half, with Bagayoko pressing him tightly. Struggling to find an opening, he forced a low-driven cross, but it was easily intercepted by the Malian center-back, who quickly played it forward to Haidara just outside the penalty area.

Haidara took a touch before laying it off to Sangaré at the top of the penalty arc. Sangaré returned the ball to Haidara, who turned sharply and pushed forward, accelerating toward the halfway line.

Ngoah was glued to him, applying relentless pressure, trying to force an error.

Under pressure, Haidara shifted the play wide to the right, sending the ball toward Maiga, who controlled it near the halfway line before bursting forward along the touchline.

Maiga, using his pace, drove into the final third with Kalamou tracking him closely. Just as he reached the edge of the box, Maiga made a deceptive push forward with his right foot, acting as if he would sprint further—only to suddenly stop and cut inside.

Kalamou, caught off guard, had already committed forward, giving Maiga just enough space.

Seeing the opportunity, Maiga whipped in a curling cross toward the far post.

The ball arced beautifully through the air, dropping toward the left side of the six-yard box.

Charging into position was Aly Mallé, outpacing Njike, both rising for the ball.

Mallé timed his jump perfectly, using his strength and momentum to overpower Njike, his forehead making solid contact with the ball.

Djomo reacted instinctively, shifting his weight to his left and diving, but it was too late. The ball slammed into the net.

"GOAL!!!" The commentator's voice erupted through the stadium.

"GOOOOOOOOOAL!!!"

"Mali finally breaks the deadlock after dominating large spells of the match!"

"1-0 for Mali! A devastating moment for Cameroon, just when they were starting to find their rhythm."

"A superbly constructed goal—quick passing, great movement, and an excellent finish from Aly Mallé!"

"Now the match is wide open! Cameroon must find a way to respond before halftime!"

…

"Calm down, guys! Focus! It's just one goal, we can come back!" Coach Atangana shouted from the sidelines, clapping his hands to lift the team's morale.

I stood there, hands on my hips, my head slightly down. Ah… we still conceded.

Taking a deep breath, I turned around and shouted, "Let's go, guys! We just need to score, and we'll win this!"

The match restarted, and Mali, energized by their goal, pressed high with even more intensity.

For the next several minutes, Cameroon struggled to push forward, pinned in their own half as Mali continued to apply relentless pressure.

Jean, Toukam, Njike, and Kalamou were working tirelessly, throwing themselves into tackles, blocking shots, and intercepting passes.

Despite Mali's dominance, our defensive organization remained strong. We were positioned well, cutting off passing lanes and clearing the ball whenever possible. But each clearance only brought temporary relief, as Mali quickly recovered possession and launched another wave of attacks.

This pattern continued until the 44th minute, when a Malian shot deflected out for a goal kick.

Djomo placed the ball down and played it short to Jean on the left. Jean quickly sent it to Kalamou, who took a touch and passed diagonally into midfield for Hongla.

Hongla then shifted the play to me on the left wing, still inside our half.

As I controlled the ball near the halfway line, I turned forward and pushed past the line into Malian territory.

Ismaël Traoré, their right-back, was already in front of me. I could see that Mali's defensive line was positioned high—closer to the center circle than their penalty area.

That's when I made my decision.

I played a quick pass inside to Ngoah, positioned in the right half-space, before making a sharp diagonal run between Traoré and Danté, hoping Ngoah would spot it.

He saw it.

Without hesitation, he lofted a perfect ball over the Malian defense, dropping it into open space just behind them.

I sprinted between Traoré and Danté, both of them reacting late, desperately trying to close me down.

The ball dropped just outside the penalty box, and I controlled it smoothly, feeling the pressure from both defenders on my sides.

Alou Traoré, the Malian goalkeeper, was already rushing out.

I didn't think. I just acted.

With the tip of my foot, I chipped the ball.

It soared over the keeper, who had no chance to react, and dipped gracefully into the empty net.

For a second, there was silence. Then, the stadium exploded.

I had already started running toward the stands, stretching my arms out wide. I stopped near the corner, turned around, and pointed to my name on the back of my jersey.

The Cameroonian fans erupted, jumping, dancing, and celebrating wildly.

Ganago, Ngoah, Hongla, and the rest of the team rushed toward me, jumping on my back, shouting in excitement.

"Goal!!!" Ganago roared.

"Nice one!" Hongla added, patting me on the back.

Everyone crowded around, clapping me on the shoulder, celebrating together.

I clenched my fist and raised it high into the air, letting out a victorious shout with my teammates before jogging back to my position.

Mali 1-1 Cameroon.

With just a few minutes left in the first half, this thrilling match is far from over. Who will take control in the second half?