Imagine the fear: SA youth football team stranded overseas with no return tickets

ONE DAY, travelling back to Kimberley from what was then still called Port Elizabeth, my car broke down between Cookhouse and Cradock.

It happened quickly; the car was doing fine until lights started flashing on the dashboard, and the message “STOP DRIVING NOW” blinked on the display.

For five hours, my passenger and I stood there on the roadside after calling for Emergency Assistance. It was on that day that I learned how the one Emergency Roadside policy I had been paying for a few years worked.

The call centre operator told me, “If your car breaks down, and you’re stranded, please call for the nearest towing service, and arrange to be towed to the nearest garage. Later on, after everything is settled, you can call us, and after our review, we will reimburse you.”

Imagine that: being stranded, and the people who promised to look after you and ensure that you would be taken care of just shrug their shoulders and expect you to sort it out. The good news for me is that I had a back-up policy, and those folk proved to be amazingly efficient.

The thing is, I was within walking distance from either Cookhouse or Cradock, so I wasn’t really all that worried. I could walk or hike a ride to one of the towns to get help.

But imagine being stranded far away from home, thousands of miles away, without meals, without accommodation, and without a flight ticket home. That would cause me to melt down … I cannot imagine where I’d even start.

And what to me is a matter of “what if” actually happened to a group of young South African soccer players. At the end of last week, more than 30 children were left stranded after not having return tickets from Lisbon, in Portugal.

These 13- to 19-year-olds, accompanied by their coaches, had originally travelled to Spain to compete in the Donosti Cup 2025, a prestigious youth tournament. The players had done well, had a positive experience, and were due to return home on July 16. But things unravelled quickly when their families back home were informed they needed to pay an extra R15,000 for return flights.

By then, some of the players had already made it home, but 28 remained in Lisbon, uncertain when or how they’d get back. Parents had paid R50,000 each, an amount meant to cover everything – accommodation, meals, transport, and return flights.

The story drew outrage, and rightly so. This went beyond botched logistics, because it was personal, including the terrifying reality of having one’s child stuck in a foreign country, without a return plan.

In a statement issued by BT Football Academy, the organisation tried to explain what went wrong. They acknowledged that while all tour elements – including accommodation, food, and registration – were prepaid, visa appointment delays meant they received travel clearance barely a week before departure. That left them scrambling to secure return flights at the last minute – prices they say were “prohibitively high.”

The Academy claimed they reached out to multiple government departments ahead of the trip, seeking financial assistance, but received no replies. When the return flight challenge persisted, they extended accommodation and ensured players were fed while remaining in Lisbon. “The financial strain is heavy,” the statement read, “but our commitment to our players and their families is unwavering.”

While the Academy’s version of events attempts to account for the chaos, their limited communication over several days left families desperate and outraged. The question remains: how do you send a group of children overseas without confirmed return tickets?

A travel agent weighed in anonymously, saying that it didn’t make sense how these children were even allowed to board one-way flights and enter Europe without proof of return. “Even when flying to Kenya, travellers are often denied boarding without a return ticket,” the agent said. “Maybe return tickets were booked and then cancelled later. But this shouldn’t have happened.”

It was a logistical failure, yes, but also a human one. These were children. Alone. Abroad. Without a plan. And that’s when ordinary South Africans stepped up.

Social media erupted, but not with empty outrage – for once, there was action. 

People dropped everything to help, and berated political parties who were trying to use the crisis as an opportunity to rally support and rake in accolades. 

“Don’t disrespect those who wrote down the travel agents’ account details, did an EFT, or drove or walked to an ATM,” wrote one person involved in the rescue effort. “People who took their ‘skud’ money and gave it to get people home. People who phoned contacts and got big money, small money, and media attention. People who prayed the hardest.”

South African business owners made transfers. Friends and relatives in Portugal found accommodation and helped with meals.

“Can those who weren’t involved please sit down?” the post continued, calling out those trying to hijack the credit. “This was a mind-blowingly amazing show of Ubuntu, driven by normal people who just wanted to get those kids home.”

A father whose 13-year-old was among the stranded, summed it up: “I am very much excited, just wanting him to get home … but I was shocked how quickly everything happened. Everything blew up on Monday, but us as parents had been dealing with the chairman since Thursday when he initially asked us for the additional funds.”

BT Football Academy insists this is the first time something like this has happened in their history. But the families – who scraped together R50,000 for an “all-inclusive” tour – deserve more than apologies. 

And perhaps more than that, they deserve to know that in a time of crisis, when their kids were left behind, it wasn’t policy or protocol or official channels that brought them home. It was people – regular, heart-driven South Africans – who decided they wouldn’t let those children face the unknown alone.

The good thing here, if we should seek a silver lining, is that indeed, while organisations debate accountability, and political organisations jostle for credit, it’s clear who is making the difference. The ordinary South Africans who stood up – and stood together.

Here’s hoping and praying that this nightmare can be over soon for these young people, their clubs, coaches and last, but not least, their parents.