Arnaud Noah Ndzna is one of the most talented young basketball players in Cameroon, but in the west African country, talent alone does not guarantee a scholarship abroad. UCLA basketball alumni Luc Richard Mbah a Moute and Alfred Aboya are doing their best to help kids like Noah reach the United States.
Players participate in Luc Richard Mbah a Moute’s basketball camp at the Yaoundé Sports Complex.
Mendzana plays in a scrimmage during former UCLA basketball player Luc Richard Mbah a Moute’s three-day camp.
Mbah a Moute smiles as he reflects on his time at UCLA and the development of his basketball career.
Correction: The original version of this article published on Oct. 13 should have contained a dateline.
YAOUNDÉ, Cameroon ““ The poor quarter of Etoudi pulsates with life as the sun begins to set.
In the center of the neighborhood, taxis are honking their way down the main road, barely missing the street vendors who are playing cards under umbrellas. And on an elevated plateau, children selling goods are watching a basketball game unfold on the chipped concrete.
The kids’ eyes get wide as they stare at Arnaud Noah Ndzna. The star of the scrimmage makes basketball beautiful. His strides resemble a gazelle, and he slashes through the lane almost untouched, as if he is performing a ballet on the concrete. He’s even got that NBA five-step-without-dribbling-no-travel thing down. Everything he does is effortless. He very well might be the biggest young talent in Cameroon.
“Wow,” his coach mutters, shaking his head as he watches. “Wow.”
Noah has spent the last few weeks of his holiday preparing for UCLA alumnus Luc Richard Mbah a Moute’s all-star basketball camp. The camp is Noah’s chance, his ticket to travel, because players at this camp will be evaluated on merit, not money. Mbah a Moute has promised to select the five best players from the camp and assign each a spot at the NBA’s Basketball without Borders camp in Senegal ““ the same camp Mbah a Moute got noticed at almost a decade ago.
Nowadays Mbah a Moute is a national hero of sorts. He’s one of only two Cameroonian players to make it to the NBA, and he’s the idol of kids like Noah. Mbah a Moute understands his role, and he’s trying to clear the path for players to follow in his footsteps.
“Every day I ask how can I change this and help,” Mbah a Moute said. “It’s small steps, baby steps, and building around this (camp). I hope 10 to 15 years from now we can say I helped this kid or that kid get over (to the United States).”
But Mbah a Moute’s journey was relatively easy.
His house is two stories with a butler. And the sitting room is so enormous that the family’s world art collection can fit in the middle and divide the room into a front and back portion.
Mbah a Moute also has always had a supportive family, including a twin brother ““ a perfect opponent for one-on-one ““ and a father who was a famed handball player himself. School was always most important in the Mbah a Moute household, but Luc’s father also harbored a love for athletics. He wanted his twins to become the male equivalent of the Williams sisters, but when the boys finally gave up tennis to pursue basketball, he constructed them a hoop in the front courtyard.
Noah is not so lucky.
While he is far from poor and even might be considered upper-middle class, Noah’s mother, Seraphine Noah née Ebeungue Ndzna, isn’t fully behind her son’s career aspirations. She maintains polite and generous mannerisms, but simultaneously exudes the air of a strong and independent woman. And she is most adamant about her faith in God ““ everything comes back to him.
“I taught (my children) how to get up early each morning make up the bed; say their prayers first, asking God to protect you during the day, to give you what you need,” she says. “I also taught them how to read the Bible and believe in God and that we can do nothing without God.”
Ebeungue has been toughened by the trials of the last year. Noah’s father, her husband, died of illness, and the hurt still penetrates her rough exterior.
“Here in Africa, we have issues with in-laws,” she says matter-of-factly. “So they didn’t assist me with anything; I do everything for my kids. They never assisted when (my husband) was ill. … With him gone, I have to take my kids’ future into my hands.
“But I’m used to that.”
Counter to his mother and his persona on the court, Noah is quiet and a tad shy, though he has a wide grin that he uses to express himself without words. While his mother’s complaints are valid, life isn’t so bad for Noah and his family. They live in a rather large house with multiple rooms, and Noah has one all to himself. He even owns a PlayStation on which he plays as Kobe Bryant every day.
Noah used to play a few too many video games, as that was the activity of choice while cutting class. But basketball has helped him refocus on his studies. If basketball doesn’t work out, he’d like to become a dentist.
“Basketball is like a second education for me,” Noah said. “It teaches me how to live with rules. You can’t play without a referee. I also have to respect all around me: teammates, adversaries. … It helped me to become tolerant and respectful.”
Going camping
Fifty of Cameroon’s best young prospects stream onto a set of courts outside the sports complex adorned in reversible red and white jerseys, new balls in hand, new shoes squeaking against the concrete. It’s the first day of Mbah a Moute’s all-star camp, but it might as well be Christmas.
The morning begins with a rotation of drills that will help some of the raw talent take shape. Noah, coachable as always, is nodding his head and rolling out of picks to perfection, hitting each shot to punctuate his near-flawless performance.
“Bon,” says one of the coaches ““ “Good.”
The players are then broken up into teams of eight in the evening for a set of scrimmages, which rattles the majority of the campers. With so much on the line, the pressure to perform is making most players hog the ball or make poor decisions. Noah is the only member of his team that looks truly comfortable. He’s a communicator everyone can hear from the sidelines, yelling, “Ball, ball, ball, ball, ball!” on defense, and coaches are literally taking note.
“When I’m out there, I’m really thinking of the spot in Senegal, and I really work hard,” Noah said after day one. “That’s why I’m not so happy with some of my teammates that I think do not defend well and do not give the best of themselves. I really want to be part of that five.”
Missing his chance
Four days later, Noah got a call from Mbah a Moute himself.
He was selected as one of the special five, and Mbah a Moute wasted no time notifying the privileged handful because they needed to get their visas in order. The Basketball without Borders camp would begin in just one week.
“I was very happy,” Noah said later as he stared absently into the distance.
He was happy ““ until he realized he did not have a passport.
“Luc said he couldn’t wait,” Noah said. “He had to replace me with someone else. Otherwise, he’d lose a place.”
He had it, and he lost it ““ just like that.
And there was no rectifying the situation. Noah had neither a passport nor a national identification card to get a visa. At 16 years old, he needed his mother to sign for an ID card, and she was in a distant city on business.
Both Noah and his mother were well aware that if he was selected, he would need a passport to obtain a visa to travel. But there had never previously been a reason for the young man to get a passport, and at a cost of more than $100, his mother was not going to invest in a silly little book with no guarantee it would ever get stamped. Noah believed he would make it, but he might have been the only one.
“I didn’t know it was such a rush,” his mother said about failing to procure her son a passport. “(The news) was very hurtful for us, because we’d wanted everything to be ready so he should go. No mother would be happy when other people’s kids go and hers stays behind.
“With us,” she added, “when something goes wrong, we leave it with God. So we’re waiting on God because he decides and guides everything. That’s all we do.
“It’s God who decides, not me.”
Dazed and confused
For days, Noah looks dazed, like he’s seen a ghost. He comes to practice in street clothes and leans against the wall, arms tightly crossed, staring off into the distance. He’s at practice, but his mind is elsewhere, far, far away. He will have to wait for his next opportunity.
UCLA basketball alumnus Alfred Aboya, another of Noah’s idols, knows what it’s like to have to wait. He waited for two years after he was denied a visa by the French embassy.
Aboya also knows that the Cameroonian government doesn’t exactly work quickly when it comes to issuing passports.
“You’ll never get it,” he says.
And he’s all too familiar with what it’s like to have parents who don’t advocate for your success in basketball.
Aboya grew up in a house smaller than Noah’s with parents who took no interest in his basketball activities.
“I got a call from the national team one day, and (my parents) didn’t believe it until they heard my name on the radio,” Aboya said. “They never believe anything.”
But perhaps the critical difference between the two players is that when Aboya told his father Casimir Baliaba Aboya that he had an appointment at the American embassy and asked him for about $300 ““ or 150,000 Communauté financière de l’Afrique francs ““ his father went into his bedroom and gave his son all he had.
“I told him ‘If you want to go and waste it, that’s your choice,’” Baliaba said, recalling the moment. “We didn’t know anything about basketball ““ but (Alfred) was always allowed to dream.”
Working for change
Three days after the bad news, and fresh off a pep talk from his coach, Noah was nearly back to himself. And with renewed good spirits came a renewed patience that rings of the sort Alfred Aboya might advise.
“(My coach) told me that this wasn’t the last time and that it was a good thing to have come this far,” Noah said. “If I was selected once, it could happen again.”
Unlike many of his teammates, Noah is 16 and still has time on his side. Things won’t become pressing for at least another two years after he exceeds normal high school age.
For her part, Noah’s mother is already at work trying to get her son a passport, so that next time, if there is a next time, he will be ready.
And Noah is sure there will be a next time.
“Now I know that I am amongst the best,” Noah said. “Even if I didn’t go, I still remain one of the best. So now I just need to keep working to remain the best.”
In Cameroon, being the “best” doesn’t guarantee that you’ll get the opportunity you deserve.
All sorts of little things can trip up a player on the path to stardom. The biggest talent most often remains stranded at home.
But Mbah a Moute plans on running his merit-based all-star camp forever. And Aboya aspires to be president one day.
“There are a lot of things that I want to change and a lot of things that need to be changed,” Aboya said.
Noah will get his next chance to prove himself in nine months when Mbah a Moute returns with more balls, more shoes and five more plane tickets.
And if the two UCLA alumni keep working to reform their native country, the rest of Cameroon’s youth won’t have to wait long for their turn.