War-bitten African refugees finding solace on the soccer pitch in Wichita

He looked me over from head to toe.

I came from outside his element, outside of his culture. Wearing an oxford shirt, slacks and dress shoes, with glasses with cropped hair and a smart phone in hand and watch on my wrist, he offered this simple assessment.

“If you look like that, some people just look at you and tomorrow, you die.”

Yves Bahizire was born in Bukavu, Congo, on the Eastern border along the bank of Lake Kivu, which splits the country from Rwanda. He and his family were forced to flee Africa in 2010 because of a civil war that had overrun his neighborhood.

As war broke down Bahizire’s country, societal boundaries arose. Bahizire, the son of a doctor mother and teacher father, was a bit of a target because of his family’s status.

His soccer skills only amplified that. He has played since he can remember. It was part of his culture. But as he improved, unfriendly eyes turned his direction.

“There is a lot of jealousy,” he said. “When you are good at soccer, they try to let you go. So I had to quit for six months. If was playing soccer today, you would never see me. I would already be on the floor.”

Instead, the Congo government stepped in and Bahizire and his family fled to Cape Town, South Africa. While in South Africa at a refugee camp, Bahizire’s mother, brother and sister died of poisoning, he said. He was 7.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he said. “I thought when she died, she would be right back because I didn’t know anything. But it didn’t happen like that.”

When it came time to leave South Africa, more uncertainty followed. Bahizire said that as a refugee, he had no influence on where he’d be sent. He and his remaining family came to Wichita, and when he started going to school at Wichita Southeast High, it was hard.

He had to take three different public buses to get home after school, and in the morning, he awoke at 4 a.m. to make it on time.

But Bahizire said there are also a lot of differences that aren’t so readily apparent to those around him now.

Freedom. Positivity. And better health.

“My friends in Africa, they think that when you come to America, there is money on the trees,” he said. “They think the swimming pool is only money.”

Bahizire, a junior forward on the Southeast boys soccer team, isn’t alone as a refugee in Wichita, or even on his new soccer team.

Obedi Mmunga is another. He, too, fled Congo because of war. He has been in Wichita for about three years, but he still misses his home and his friends.

Like Bahizire, Mmunga started playing soccer as a child. It was in his blood: He said his uncle started teaching him the game when he was 2 years old.

Mmunga lost a parent during the war, too. And when his father passed away, Mmunga’s family started the process of leaving their homeland. He was 7.

“It was hard for me because I was still little,” he said.

Wichita Southeast has the second-largest refugee population of any high school in Kansas. After school, it isn’t uncommon to see many of them waiting for one another outside the main building.

It’s an enclave.

“I appreciate Yves because he is my friend,” Mmunga said. “(The other refugees) teach me a lot because they have been here for longer. I just appreciate them because they are good friends.”

But Bahizire said he still maintains a constant sense of caution around all of the refugees, as well as Southeast’s other students. Because of everything he has gone through to get to Wichita and have a new start, it is hard for him to trust and make real friends.

“My dad always told me, ‘Yves, it don’t matter about people, when you start focusing on your life, people will start following you,’“ he said. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Friends sometimes complicate it.”

Bahizire and Mmunga are friends on the soccer field, though. Together, they have helped Southeast to one of its most successful boys soccer seasons in recent memory.

The Golden Buffaloes fiinished the regular season 8-6 with a plus-8 goal differential. They won their bracket at the Titan Classic tournament and won three City League games for the first time since 2010.

Junior goalkeeper Jonathan Davis finished the regular season with the third-highest save percentage in the league, at 78.1 percent. And senior midfielder Tyler Inlow tied for sixth in the City League’s scoring rankings, with seven goals and three assists.

On Tuesday, Southeast played in the first round of the Class 6A playoffs against Wichita East. The winner was likely to play the No. 1 seed in the playoffs, Washburn Rural, on Thursday.

In his first season as Southeast’s boys soccer coach, Brian Shilling has started to turn the program around. He said the refugees’ grit and good character has had a lot to do with that.

“It puts a chip on their shoulder,” he said. “We don’t have the prettiest gear or stadium, and these guys are sharing shin guards in between games. They’re excited when they get to keep their shorts and socks.”

Because of soccer’s international appeal, Shilling is used to seeing athletes from across the globe. Between his club team and high school team, he coaches players from Pakistan, Uganda, Saudi Arabia and central America, many of whom have run from gangs in theor native lands.

“There’s a lot of language barriers, but they (refugees) come to this country with a soccer ball glued to their foot,” Shilling said. “And they just need an outlet. Soccer is one language.”

Shilling said he knows many of his players’ stories. He knows the struggles they have gone through just to reach safety, and he wants to provide an opportunity to escape those memories while learning to succeed and compete.

“I want them to know that I can be their safe guy,” he said. “(Yves and Obedi) have helped us tremendously. With their speed and strength, and they just don’t give up. With their backgrounds from where they came from, they don’t know how to give up.”

They haven’t, and they won’t quit. They have too much desire to succeed.

“When you pass out of a bad situation, you can’t forget it,” Bahizire said. “You’ll never forget it. It’s just in my mind. Nobody can erase it. ... Being in a refugee camp wasn’t my choice. My life just told me to go because I was looking for life.

“Life is hard, but it’s life.”

This story was originally published October 23, 2018 at 3:02 PM.