Off the tarmacked highway that runs through the middle of Abidjan, down a dirt track littered with the corpses of ancient vehicles, past an open drain in which a bunch of barefooted children are paddling alongside a goat, there is hint of how renowned Didier Drogba is in his home country. For here is Drogbakro Village, a suburb of Ivory Coast\'s biggest city that has been named by its inhabitants in honour of their country\'s most celebrated export. At the entrance to the village, under the watchful eyes of the man himself, looking down from an advertising poster, stands its self-styled chief, a 37-year-old chauffeur called Kouassi Augustin. Every time Drogba plays either for his nation or for Chelsea, Augustin pulls the television set from his home and sets it up in the alleyway outside, where a crowd of several hundred gather, cheering their favourite\'s every move. Because of him, everyone hereabouts is a Chelsea fan and a Drogba victory with a club 7,885km north triggers a carnival of celebration that fills the village, and beyond, with noisy cheer for much of the night. \"We do not need an election to tell us the answer to this question,\" says Augustin when asked if Drogba is popular enough to become president of his nation. \"He is already bigger than the president. He is the Ivory Coast.\" Drogba returned to his home country after the Africa Cup of Nations in Equatorial Guinea and Gabon. Despite boasting seven Premier League regulars, Ivory Coast lost the final to an unfancied Zambia side, a defeat in part propelled by captain Drogba missing a penalty. Rich experiences Far from casting any blame in the striker\'s direction, tens of thousands of Ivorians turned up at the airport to welcome him and his team back. \"We didn\'t expect that,\" Drogba says on the way to Abidjan\'s swankiest hotel. \"It\'s different in this country — they still come out to see us even though we lose. I had the chance to play for the French national team when I was younger but I don\'t think if I was playing for France I would get this. I feel rich with these kinds of experiences.\" As Drogba walks through the hotel lobby, a couple of security guards fail utterly to defend their charge\'s defensible space, as everyone crowds in for photos, handshakes, a moment\'s connection with the icon. He obliges them all with a humility. Last year, the country looked a basket case, its elected president, Alassane Ouattara, holed up in a city hotel, while the dictatorial previous incumbent — Laurent Gbagbo — refused to leave office following democratic dismissal. Three thousand people lost their lives in the tribal ructions that followed; the district of Abidjan where Drogba was raised was the last to surrender to the new boss. Now Gbagbo is facing a war-crimes trial in The Hague and Ouattara was at the airport leading a united nation welcoming home their football team, ensuring he was the first to squeeze Drogba\'s hand. Drogba has returned his countrymen\'s loyalty. He has a home here and frequently returns, usually weighed down with cash. Every penny he earns in commercial endorsements, from sponsors such as Nike, Samsung and Pepsi, he donates to the Didier Drogba Foundation, a charity which provides medical services for a country where the average life expectancy is 47. Drogba\'s latest goal is to build a clinic for child illnesses in Abidjan. \"I am already excited, I can\'t wait for this hospital to be built,\" he says later as he patrols the clinic\'s site. \"To be honest, I like the place where I am now. I don\'t have any political opinion. I can say what I want, I\'m free,\" he says. \"Today my situation is good because when I speak everybody will listen. If I decided to do politics only half of the country will listen. Am I more powerful the way I am? Maybe.\"