There aren’t the words, sometimes. That doesn’t mean there isn’t a message. For Cindy Ngamba, her defeat in the middleweight semi-final of the Olympic Games was a cruel disappointment.

She left the arena in silence, the pain of that loss raw.

She had wanted gold, but her bronze was the first Olympic medal ever won by a refugee team member.

“There are many other refugees all around the world that are not even athletes, they go through so many obstacles in life, they go through so many hard times, and they feel like it’s going to be the end of the world any day or any time soon,” Ngamba said later.

“I just hope that for me to achieve what I was able to achieve, qualifying and to win a medal, to be the first-ever refugee to win a medal for the Olympic refugee team, I can become kind of like their light, I don’t really like to say role model because I’m just human.

“I just have aims and goals and I went for it.”

A top-class boxer, Ngamba had beaten the reigning world champion Tammara Thibeault in a thrilling opening bout at the Games. She had to overcome French boxer Davina Michel and her raucous home support in Paris after that.

Fighting for a place in the Olympic final at Roland Garros, a stunning venue for boxing, Panama’s Atheyna Bylon had used long-range counter-punches to pocket their first round.

Trailing, Ngamba had to win the second round to stay in the contest. She did so, a right cross blasted in to rock Bylon and shake her out of her rhythm.

As a refugee Ngamba might have been competing at the Games without a flag or a country but by the semi-final she had the crowd with her.

Normally in a bout, she blocks out every sound, apart from her corner, to focus on the opponent and herself. But this time Ngamba heard something else. Her name – “Cindy, Cindy” – being chanted over and over by thousands of supporters who packed the stands of Roland Garros.

“I did hear it,” she smiled. “It was actually the first time that I heard the crowd.

“I never hear the crowd.”

There was an energy in the air and she took that, pushing on in the third round, using the intensity of her assault to press Bylon hard.

Everything came down to that last round. A warning from the referee for holding docked a point from Bylon. That saw the boxers finish level, 28-28, for three of the judges, who then had to vote for the winner.

Ngamba’s effective pressure had forced Bylon to clinch, surely that would sway the votes her way. But no, all three of those judges elected to go with the Panamanian.

It could scarcely have been any closer, but Ngamba lost a split decision.

In sport there is little better than winning a boxing match. There is almost nothing worse than losing one.

Two nights later, however, she was back in the centre of that arena at Roland Garros, the crowd applauding her with sustained fervour as she stepped onto the Olympic podium for the medal ceremony.

“It’s different in there when the medal is put over your head and the crowd go crazy for you,” Ngamba told Sky Sports.

“To be the first-ever refugee to have won a medal after the third cycle, it’s amazing. So a whole lot of emotion but it’s positive and I’m just taking each second and letting it sink in.”

She had Olympic bronze and her place in history. The noise from the crowd in attendance felt like a kind of validation.

“I was bit shocked,” she said. “It was beautiful and it was all amazing and I’m going to remember this for the rest of my life.

“Every moment I just kept telling myself even as I was walking to the ring just take it all in. Because you just made history and it’s something that has never happened before and to share the ring with amazing athletes like all the other countries, so an honour.”

Fighting through to win that medal meant something, something personal to Ngamba as well as a statement made to the vast audience that watches the Olympics.

“This medal is the definition of what hard work and dedication and sweat and obstacles and tragedy that I had to go through. And also from the support that I’ve got from the refugee federation, Olympic team and GB Boxing and England, my family and my support, friends and family,” she said.

She was representing herself, of course, but also the refugee team and indeed refugees across the world.

“Cindy and some of the other athletes, they have found themselves in new countries that have recognised their refugee status, their asylum applications. But the team represents the hopes and the dreams of 120 million and that’s a powerful indication and signal to the world,” Kelly Clements, deputy high commissioner at the UNHCR, the UN refugee agency, told Sky Sports.

“They’re elite athletes, they’re at the top of their game. None of us can do this sort of thing. And you see the athleticism but behind that you see the hope that they represent for 120 million people.

“These are people that given the opportunity, the ability to have been embraced by a new community and a new home, really picking up from having lost family members, possessions, lives, that sort of thing, to then go and rebuild and to be in a place where you use sport and you use your talent somehow to be able to not only express yourself in your athleticism, but use it to heal the mental health components, to be able to bond with a new community and in the case of Cindy that’s what’s happened.”

Ngamba has lived in the UK since she was an 11-year-old child. She has been educated in Britain through school and university, been developed by her local boxing club in Bolton and trains with the GB Olympic programme in Sheffield.

But she has also had to confront the threat of deportation, even though sending her to Cameroon would have placed her in danger and at risk of persecution. In that country it is illegal to be gay. Besides, her home is in the UK and she has refugee status while waiting still to gain British citizenship.

“When I first came in the UK after leaving Cameroon, I was a very introverted child. I always kept myself to myself and it’s just shown the UK welcomed me and kept me safe and protected me,” Ngamba said. “I was able to find a hobby that I’m good at. I was able to study, go to school, college, university.

“I was just one of those ones that was lucky to be given the opportunity.

“I was just given the opportunity and I just hope that there’s many out there that will be given opportunity.”

Give someone an opportunity and they might just do something special. Winning an Olympic medal is no small thing. Being a friend and neighbour (giving someone “good vibes” as Ngamba said of her own ambition) is no small thing either.

It was jarring then to watch Ngamba’s exuberant advance through the tournament, while seeing frightening updates through social media feeds of a series of anti-migrant ‘protests’ in the UK, riots fuelled by prejudice, racism and Islamophobia, accompanied by disturbing footage of mobs on the street, of a burning wheelie bin wedged in the doorway of migrant accommodation.

“What’s happening in your country currently, it is horrific and unfortunately it isn’t unique,” Clements said.

“It’s happening in other parts of the world as well and it’s something we have to fight against because in these circumstances we need to deal with the issues that are at the root of the problem as opposed to outcasting groups including talented individuals like Cindy.

“You have to see ways that people can contribute in their communities,” she continued. “You’re looking at those who have had terrible experiences to get to where they are but then contribute in ways that, frankly, communities need.

“What’s happened is horrific in terms of the disinformation and just outright lies about cause and effect. We have, as UNHCR, embarked with a number of organisations but also with very strong support including from the European Union on an actual campaign on combatting disinformation and misinformation.

“This has been an issue with other world events. Look at how not just refugees and asylum seekers, migrants are basically being ostracised but it’s a broader effort to tear away at the very fabric of our communities and world order. From what’s happening locally in the UK, we’re deeply concerned.”

Ngamba had not been watching the news from England. Perfectly sensibly she had not been using social media since entering camp in France. She had not wanted anything to distract her attention from the tournament.

“I just let my boxing do the talking,” she said. “I hope that through each of my fights I was able to show my personality and what I’m all about and how hard I work and how disciplined I was in my training.”

Across Paris the endeavours of refugee athletes were being celebrated. You could wander into the weightlifting and see Ramiro Mora Romero engaged in a good-natured duel with America’s Wes Kitts in the 102kgs category.

Mora Romero, who lives in Bristol, had to flee Cuba after participating in an anti-government protest and sought asylum in Britain.

The tension was unexpectedly palpable when Kitts ramped up the clean and jerk weight to 210kgs. A troop of helpers darted out to add more to the bar, clustering round the barbell before disappearing with the speed and efficiency of an F1 pitstop.

Kitts hefted it on his chest, paused, straining against the bar only to crumple beneath it.

Mora Romero however got the weight up over his head, legs and arms shivering with the physical effort until he could lock out his elbows and hold it aloft.

He let the bar drop to the platform with an almighty crash and pumped his arms in delight, a grin beaming across his face as the arena erupted in applause.

Mora Romero finished seventh in the competition, Kitts eighth.

Paris was combining the city’s monuments and landmarks with its Olympic events, often with spectacular effect. The new breakdancing event would be held at the Place de la Concorde, on the banks of the Seine, outside the Tuileries and the Louvre. Breaking’s Olympic appearance was widely anticipated, the press bleachers packed under a hot afternoon sun and the crowds milling about the warm-up area just to watch the competitors prepare showed that.

There was a carnival atmosphere at the event, the warm-up act all clad in white turned out to be the panel of actual judges, Snoop Dogg made a surprise appearance to open the show and breaker Manizha Talash got just as warm a reception when she unveiled a direct message.

She was losing the opening contest of the show, but in the midst of her second round, spun her back to the crowd and unfurled a cape emblazoned with the words: “Free Afghan Women”.

When she departed the venue through the media area she did not wish to comment further on that message. But she hardly needed to. It was an act of defiance. Talash had fled Afghanistan when the Taliban took control in 2021. Under their regime women and girls were denied an education. They could not work or go to public spaces without a male guardian. Music and dancing were outlawed.

It had been dangerous for her even before she had left the country. Her breaking crew received bomb threats and had two cars explode outside their small club during competitions. A man planning a suicide attack was arrested on one occasion.

That did not help her win the contest, even if it had the rebellious spirit expected of breaking. Talash was promptly disqualified from the Games.

“We strongly believe that sport should remain politically neutral, and Field of Play should be free of any political statement,” the World DanceSport Federation said in a statement.

Whether the athletes make a direct comment or not, the refugee team itself will be perceived as a political statement, gloriously so too when it came to Ngamba’s medal-winning exploits.

“If you look at the refugee Olympic team we are all from different backgrounds, have different languages, different obstacles, different tragedies. All of us fled for protection and safety,” Ngamba said.

“We are just one of millions around the world and I just hope that there are many other refugees around the world that can be protected and saved and kind of given the opportunity to achieve their aims and goals.

“Just because we were given the names of refugees, doesn’t mean that we’re not athletes or doesn’t mean that we’re not human. I’m human just like any other athlete.

“All I did was just work hard, believe in myself and I have a great team at my side and I was able to get a medal.”

That medal will open more doors for her. “What will be will be with the future,” she said.

“I’m just taking each day as it comes at the moment. I don’t know what will happen to me tomorrow.

“Wake up tomorrow and get on with my day to day. But the future’s looking bright for me. I have a medal now and I stand out compared to all the other boxers out there. I made history.

“The future is history for me and I’m excited for what is to come.”