I have thirty-five soccer balls in my studio in Woodstock, Cape Town. I often stare at them or simply pick each, for the umpteenth time, and rub my hand against them. I know their texture very well: every bump and stitch, even the smell. All are home-made using either rubber, plastic or other materials.

I collected these balls during a journey through Africa taking photography for my exhibition and book Amen: Grassroots Football. The idea, hatched between me and my soccer-crazy dad on Christmas Day in 2008, was to show how soccer was played on the continent in the light of the World Cup coming to South Africa.

Armed with a Hasselblad with one eighty millimetre lens, three hundred rolls of film, a digital camera, my log book, a mini printer and a stock of new soccer balls, all packed into an old VW Beetle equipped with a roof rack, three spare tyres, two jerry cans and a higher suspension, I set off. I went from Senegal to Ghana to Burkina Faso to Mozambique to South Africa. It was an exciting, if gruelling, nine months.

Everywhere I went, from a far-flung villages to towns, I was welcomed with open arms. It was amazing and heartening to witness such humanity. With the little boys I met, I traded my new balls for the home-made ones. The balls, my mementos, are a testament to human ingenuity.

The book, which is available at all major bookstores, is doing well in terms of sales and I was lucky to have a bulk order from FIFA.

During my trip, I met great individuals who passionately play soccer despite challenging socio-economic conditions. I remember the words of my Ghanaian friend, Ganiyu Abubakari: “Happy yourself wherever you are.” I can only say amen to that.

As told to Phakama Mbonambi