The sense of disappointment was palpable among the crowd at Cafe Cristalium in Tunis as Ons Jabeur crashed out of the Wimbledon final for the second year running.
In the minutes building up to her defeat, only silence held, as the awareness took hold that the day would again end in disappointment.
Across the city, people had either stayed at home, or huddled in air-conditioned cafes to watch the 28-year-old woman from Ksar Hellal reclaim a sport long considered the preserve of the elite and bring it to the masses.
Nicknamed the minister of happiness, Jabeur’s success on the sporting world stage has provided an enduring bright spot under a darkening Tunisian sky.
For a country that has produced its fair share of female athletes, Jabeur has captured the imagination in ways few others could hope for. Coming from a middle-class home in the country’s centre, she penetrated a sport most often associated with the elites of the capital and coast.
“She’s a professional,” Aya Soltani, a 22-year-old waitress said, between juggling orders for drinks. “She wins so much and it makes me feel proud. I love her and I love Tunisia. She’s a strong and powerful woman.”
Jabeur’s story is known to every child in Tunisia. How she was introduced to the sport aged three by her mother, playing on the courts at the hotel resorts on the coast, progressing to her first club at Hammam Sousse and from there to the Lycée Sportif el Menzah in the capital, where she honed her game. In the neighbouring Tennis Club de Tunis, Jabeur’s name typically elicits nothing but smiles of recognition from the young girls there, their numbers swollen by the legions of new students, busily signing up for the club’s tennis programme in the wake of Jabeur’s success.
“When I watch Ons compete, I feel a great deal of rush, as if I am part of that world myself,” Hela Loudhaief, an English teacher said. “As a Tunisian woman, I am incredibly proud of Ons. Also, Tunisians are now all hooked to tennis thanks to Ons. Her success brings us so much happiness and gives us actual hope for the future of sports in Tunisia.”
Despite Jabeur’s loss Tunisia’s love of tennis looks likely to remain, challenging the country’s religion of football for its place in Tunisians’ affections.
Khalil Ben Amore, more used to watching Manchester United, had come to the sport with Jabeur’s success. “How can I not support her? She’s from the same place as me,” he said.
Tunisia has not had an easy time of it of late. Battered by a tanking economy, ingrained unemployment and labouring under the authoritarian rule of President Kais Saied, Tunisia is sorely in need of whatever happiness it can get.
“This is a very bad time in Tunisia,” the cafe’s owner, Taoufik Marouani, said. “Ons Jabeur, she does what the politicians can’t. She gives people hope. She makes them happy. Even today, in defeat.”
