On the pitch, Carolina RailHawks forward Sallieu Bundu is most dangerous facing away from the goal.
With his back turned, Bundu can play the ball, lay it back or even score.
Perhaps it’s ironic that the RailHawks newcomer is most likely to put a ball into the net while looking in another direction — or maybe it's fitting.
Just like on the field, Bundu looks back as a means of moving forward. It’s his precarious early life in his native land of Sierra Leone that gives him the inspiration to succeed in the sport.
Civil War wrecks homeland
Bundu was just 13 years old when he and his family crossed into the land of Guinea as refugees in the ongoing civil war taking place in Sierra Leone.
The trek to safe haven took two weeks — all of it entirely on foot. The journey was hard, but the decision to make it was not — not in a land where staying put was just as likely to end in death as taking some other means of transportation.
“You wouldn’t risk your life to get into a bus or something because as soon as you fall in ambush, they throw gas on your car, then everyone will stay there and they just light a match and blow it up.”
It was truly a matter of “walking by faith” for the Bundu family.
“The rebels, they look just like civilians because they don’t have uniforms on. You see them at eight, nine years old and they’re rebels. You see a woman leading 13-14-year-old rebels, young girls, so you know everyone is capable of being a rebel,” Bundu said. “We ate root from the bush. You drink whatever water is near, you don’t care. You just keep walking and you see thousands of people walking like you.”
The war, which ended in 2000, left hundreds of thousands dead and just as many displaced.
“It’s so tough. I lost my dad, friends, families, cousins, uncles. They burned our house. It’s tough.”
It wasn’t until last year that some of Bundu’s family finally moved back into Sierra Leone, where a new democratic government is set in place.
Bundu still keeps up with them on a regular basis, but life has been tough in the country ranked dead last in the Human Development Index, a study that takes into account life expectancy, literacy rate and GDP among other things.
“My family is still down there and things are getting harder every day. As I’m talking to you right now I’m about to send some money there. And all of last year it was like that, when I was in Cleveland.”
If asked, Bundu won’t hold back explaining how things were in Sierra Leone during the war. But the less time his mind dwells upon those days, the better.
“I just don’t like to explain and explain because I start thinking back to what happened to my family and it’s tough,” Bundu said. “It’s tough to forget but if I’m to think about it I always try to think about other things.”
One solace in what the war did was it allowed his family to dream of coming to America, a dream that came true one fateful day as a matter of pure chance.
Winning the “DV”
It’s called a “diversity visa,” known simply to the Sierra Leonean as a “DV.”
To get one is truly a one-in-a-million chance.
“Millions of people play all over the world,” Bundu said.
And if you thought you had an idea about what “high stakes” were all about, just imagine being a refugee as your own country gets ravaged by war, knowing that if you win this worldwide lottery for legal entry into the United States of America, you can later become a citizen.
But it just so happened that during the war, Bundu’s brother’s wife won the DV for their region of the world, meaning that Bundu’s brother and his brother’s wife were U.S.-bound.
“He happened to be lucky to win. Automatically, as soon as he won, they give you a visa and you become a permanent resident after six months.”
Now his brother could try to bring over his mother and any kid in the family under 21.
“By then, I’m lucky enough to be under the age of 21 because when your brother fight for you, you have to be under the age of 21. So all my older brothers and sisters, they didn’t make it. So me and my mom, he got us to come here.”
It was the lucky break that brought Bundu to the states, where he started his U.S. career for the MLS’ Columbus Crew.
His brother, mother and fiance still live in Columbus.
“My brother is the one taking care of my mom because she’s sick. She can’t work so my brother is the one paying the bills by himself,” Bundu said. “Meantime, I’m helping them, at least in Africa, taking care of my brothers and sisters there.”
Starting his playing career
Perhaps it was a bit weird for Bundu starting a professional overseas career in the same town as his mother.
After all, his mother tried desperately to dissuade Bundu from the sport, pointing out those in his country who had failed and had nothing to fall back on.
After playing in Guinea, a second division team from France tried to sign Bundu away but was stonewalled by his mother, saying he was too young.
But from the age of 10, Bundu’s mind was made up. In fact, it might’ve been decided ever further back.
“When my mom said when I was 7-8 months [old] I’d walk just for soccer,” Bundu said. “They’d see me hold the walls and kick, kick, kick and after then I’d start walking.”
It was a short stay with the Crew, but Bundu made the best of it, parlaying his time there into time in South America before resurfacing in Ohio for a tryout with the USL’s Cleveland City Stars, where current RailHawks coach Martin Rennie signed him on the spot.
Bundu followed Rennie to Cary soon after Rennie was announced as RailHawks coach this offseason.
“He’s a great guy and a good coach,” Bundu said. “He motivates players. He always says the right thing to give you confidence and play. He always makes you feel free and believe yourself ... I think he’s the right guy to play for.”
After bouncing all over the world, Bundu’s career has found solid ground in America. He’s now a sought-after commodity by his national team, which had feared he would nationalize as a Guinean or American after living in both countries.
“I hadn’t ever thought of that,” Bundu said with a laugh.
Adjusting to life in Cary and the U.S.
From this, Bundu has earned his chance to play in America, where he describes himself as “a refugee” again.
“I love being here,” Bundu said. “I see everything’s so kind of easy, compared to Africa, every day is tough, it’s violence and everything.”
Bundu has been impressed with Cary and the crowds at WakeMed Soccer Park.
“This city is a great city to play for, to be honest. Looking at the crowd the other day and I see so many people. That feels good. As a soccer player you always want to see the stadium packed. It’s just great.”
It’s been quite a ride that brought Bundu to where he is now, a few years and thousands of miles removed from the tragedies of war. In some strange way, it may not have been possible without the good and the bad, the war and the “DV.”
Bundu said he thanks God for making it through, and for the chance to play professional soccer in a new country with great teammates.
“The locker room is like we’ve all been playing together for 2-3 years. All the players, everybody’s new here but it’s so fun. It makes me feel good. I always tell my mom ‘I’ve never been to a team like this.’ Everybody is so great, The official side also.”
It’s a dream he hopes he can continue to share with his fiance, who will be moving to the area in a matter of months.
“She’s coming here in the first week of May, so I’m looking for an apartment [for her],” Bundu said. “I was telling her about the city and she can’t wait to come here.”
Contact J. Mike Blake at mblake@nando.com or 460-2606. He'd love to hear from you.