I grew up between two worlds;

Raised in Montreal, with roots anchored deep in Tunisia.

Summers were spent under the North African sun, winters wrapped in Canadian snow.
My life has always moved between extremes — languages, climates, cultures.
At times, the contrast felt disorienting. But somewhere between the hot and the cold, the Franglais and the Arabic, the North and the South,
I found a rhythm.

A way of belonging to many places at once, even if I never fully fit into any of them.
I learned to read the room, to listen first, to find connection where others might see separation.
And then came the summer of 2006, when I discovered a language that brought everyone together.

July 9. World Cup Final. France vs. Italy.

In the living room, my entire family had gathered — football fans and non-fans alike. Everyone was rooting for France. Or more precisely, for Zizou.

He meant something to us. He looked like us, spoke like us, carried the pride of two continents.
That day, even the people who had never cared about football suddenly did.
That was the first time I understood what the game could hold: not just tactics or goals, but memory, identity,

belonging.

Over the years, I had the privilege of witnessing the beautiful game across different countries and cultures.

From the flares and chaos of a stadium night in Tunis, to a dusty pitch in the Costa Rican mountains where joy needed no translation, to walking the Champs-Élysées in 2018 after France’s victory, surrounded by one million strangers who, just for one evening, felt like family. I remember thinking:

Is this what world peace feels like? How can a simple sport unite an entire nation this way?

I didn’t know how, but I knew I wanted to be part of that.
To contribute to this force that brings people together like nothing else can.
That lets us forget the weight of the world — even just for 90 minutes.
That reminds us who we are, and who we can be.

I’ve never stopped chasing that feeling.

And so, I’m building a path at the intersection of storytelling, strategy, and football.
Not to hold onto the past, but to carry it forward.

Toward a future where I can help create another little girl’s 2006.

With heart, always

Cinda