When Kareem Abdul-Jabbar visited Mogadishu

Curiously, among the first people to take the brochure’s promise of an old-fashioned, “open-armed” welcome at face value were two tall, prodigiously talented Americans.

Oscar Robertson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar were, and remain, basketball royalty. The pair had just won America's NBA championship title for their team, the Milwaukee Bucks.

They could have chosen to visit almost any city, in any country in Africa. They were clearly looking to inspire young black players on a continent engulfed by the upheavals and opportunities presented by the end of colonial rule. Guided by a prominent black American athlete turned diplomat named Mal Whitfield, they settled on Mogadishu, flying into the beachfront airstrip in 1972.

It’s easy to picture them walking down the steps from the plane and into the waiting crowd. Oscar Robertson was 6 feet 5 inches, and a muscular, powerful presence. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar — who'd recently embraced Islam and changed his name from Lew Alcindor — was 7 feet 2 inches and a giant even by Somalia’s lanky standards.

In the decades ahead, Somalis would become among the most globalised people on earth, with communities spread across every continent. But at that moment they were acutely aware of their relative isolation and appropriately grateful to the two Americans for their endorsement.

Gabyow and Tarzan both grin and cackle like excited teenagers when they talk about the week that followed—how Kareem Abdul-Jabbar needed two beds pushed together at the Shabelle Hotel (“five star—the best, believe me,” Gabow gushes) in order to accommodate his giant frame.

Tarzan remembers how the front seat of a car, perhaps a Fiat, was removed to enable the American to fold himself inside. “We were like chickens beside them!” Kareem gave out some of his shirts. “They went all the way to my knees!”

There were banquets and picnics and a national tournament with coaching sessions provided by the visitors—a few minutes for each team. And finally, nearing the end of the visit, Somalia’s two top league teams put on an exhibition match with their foreign guests invited to play.

It should have been the crowning moment of the trip. Several thousand people-the great and good of Mogadishu-had squeezed inside the 21 October Stadium for the evening match.

The floodlights flickered on, and the rest of the city vanished into the surrounding darkness. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was to play with Tarzan and Gabyow’s team. Oscar Robertson was with the combined police and army team, called Horseed.

It started well enough. Nuruddin Farah, who had just begun his career as a novelist and was teaching English at Tarzan and Yusuf's high school at the time, was in the crowd.

“The Americans made fools of the Somalis, who couldn't get to the ball,” he remembers drily.

But then the Somali referee started to intervene. His nickname was “Wiish,” which sounds, appropriately, like a whistle but actually means “crane,” in reference to his height.

Tarzan had had plenty of experience of Wiish's refereeing. He considered him pedantic. A “show-off”. Today, Gabyow and Tarzan both wince when they reflect on what happened next.

According to Gabyow, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar took more steps than he was allowed while carrying the ball. There was a dispute. Wiish sent Abdul-Jabbar off. 

Tarzan has a more elaborate story. He insists that Oscar Robertson was dribbling the ball in a manner that Wiish had never seen before. His hand would come under, then over, the top of the ball, almost as if stroking it. It was normal practice among the professionals of the NBA, but not in Mogadishu. Wiish believed the American was “carrying” the ball. He blew his whistle and declared, “technical foul.” A few minutes later, he blew it again.

“Oscar came to him and shouted at him,” but Wiish would not be swayed. The American was sent off. The crowd began to boo, and then to walk out. It felt like someone had ruined a wedding.

“So Wiish spoiled it. The game did not finish. He didn't realize that all these guys came to watch them, not us.” For years afterward, Tarzan would berate Wiish for his “stupid” behavior. He clung on to that anger until 2012, when a suicide bomber killed Wiish inside Mogadishu’s National Theatre.