There have been goals in Benguela, Cabinda, Luanda and Lubango, but no goals are being scored in the Stade Slyvio Cator in Port au Prince. Haiti's goalposts don't exist anymore.
Angolans paused for Haiti before every Quarter Final, the carnage of their own wars against colonialism and as proxies in the Cold War never far from their thoughts. A nation blessed by the curse of geology showing solidarity with their brothers and sisters, torn asunder by the earth's crust, an ocean apart.
France, Britain and the United States have a history of moving Haiti's goalposts, naming and renaming Haiti's coach and officials, tightening the touchlines, painting countless penalty spots across Haiti's box, forcing Haitians to cheer from terraces made from shaky dumps of their own subsidized imports, with many supporters not able to read the terms and conditions of their own oppression as laid out in the match programme.
Haiti's goalposts don't exist anymore. The smashed and mangled uprights belong to the "Humanitarians" now. The Stade Slyvio Cator is a tent city with thousands crammed into the spaces once created by Haitian footballers. There are no calls for the ball, but for water, medicines, medical attention and food.
Like the African Cup of Nations, Haiti's disaster is being broadcast across our globalized world. The world knows more about the grain and scale of Haitian suffering than any calamity it has ever encountered.
Our goal must be to help Haitians restore their own goalposts, and one day when Haitians are replenished with food, water, housing and control over their own lives, we can celebrate Haitian goals again.