Reviving Nigeria’s football heritage: Path to unity and opportunity

I vividly recall my first soccer match as an eight-year-old at the University of Lagos Sports Center. Having been part of a football club that had trained for weeks leading up to the game, I was both excited and nervous. Our team was a melting pot of different ethnicities, religions, and socio-economic backgrounds, yet we were united as one. Despite a week of rain, the morning of our final game was sunny and beautiful.

As a boy who often battled colds and congestion, I was thrilled to bask in the warmth of the sun. The stadium was packed as we took the field, and my heart raced. Seeing my parents in the stands provided comfort. The game was a rollercoaster of emotions—moments of silence and dejection mixed with bursts of joy. The climax came when I scored a dramatic winning goal in the final minutes. The Sports Center erupted; it felt like the entire structure was shaking with the crowd’s elation. I looked towards my family and saw them celebrating, jumping up and down and hugging strangers.

The sheer intensity of the moment overwhelmed me. It wasn’t just a victory; it was a celebration of the shared passion and community that soccer fosters. That night, as I left the stadium, I felt a profound connection to the sport, a bond that has only deepened over time. The exhilaration, unity, and emotional highs of that day have created an indelible memory. Soccer has become more than just a game; it’s a powerful experience that resonates deeply within me.

The good old days of football
From my conversations with the older generation, it’s clear that football in Nigeria has always been a vibrant part of uniting people across the nation. My family has a deep love for the game. My mum often reminisces about Ibadan, where she grew up, and how football fields were common in most neighbourhoods. Her brothers would spend hours playing there every evening, with their parents unconcerned, reflecting a time when the country was much safer. Many of the friends they made on those fields remain a significant part of their lives today.

My uncle frequently recounts how the neighbourhood would come alive with spectators during local matches. Friends and families would gather, cheering from the sidelines, and for those few hours, all the world’s problems seemed to disappear. He also remembers how many top Nigerian players were discovered on those very dusty fields. As someone passionate about football, I’ve always imagined the joy they must have experienced growing up with such vibrant football culture.

Even as a child visiting my grandmother in Ibadan, I joined neigbouring kids in playing football—not just for competition, but for the joy and camaraderie it brought. Our “field” might have been a dusty patch of land, but it was where we created cherished memories. Children from diverse backgrounds played together, and it didn’t matter where we were from or what we believed.

What has changed and why it matters
However, things have changed. The Nigeria my uncle describes feels like a distant memory. The community football field he fondly talks about has been replaced by a three-story building. The sense of community fostered by football has diminished. Increasing insecurity and violence have eroded trust between neighbours, making it harder to find safe places for football.

The few remaining community football fields are now often empty, and places where children once gathered are quieter. People are afraid to go out, leading to fewer opportunities for kids to play football regularly. This decline has impacted young players significantly. Scouts and coaches now struggle to find talent as games become less frequent. The vibrant fields of the past are now empty, and many talented kids might never be discovered.

Growing up, my parents supported my passion for football, but it has been costly. I’ve had to pay for football clubs during school terms and holidays because available fields were either nonexistent or considered unsafe. I would have loved to play daily, but this limitation has reduced my opportunities.

Recently, I attended a summer camp where the top performers were those who had daily access to football, not necessarily those who paid the most for training. This aligns with Earl Nightingale’s quote: “One hour per day of study in your chosen field is all it takes. One hour per day of study will put you at the top of your field within three years. Within five years you’ll be a national authority. In seven years, you can be one of the best people in the world at what you do.”

Another lesson is that these boys would not have been discovered if they did not have the means to attend the camp. Discovering young players by watching them in community games is becoming a thing of the past. Parents now have to spend significantly to enroll their children in football clubs and camps to get them noticed.

Why football still has a chance to help
Despite the current challenges, I believe football can still play a role in bringing us together. The love for the game remains strong in Nigeria, and reviving community football could make a significant difference. By establishing more local football programmes, especially in areas struggling with insecurity, we could create safe spaces that foster unity. This could help rebuild trust between neighbours and give young players opportunities to showcase their talents.

Football is a universal language, transcending differences in background and beliefs. Investing in community football and encouraging people from various tribes and religions to play together could address some of the issues dividing our country. It could also help discover new talent who might become the next stars in Nigerian football. If we invest in community football, it has the potential to make Nigeria a more peaceful and united place once again.
Ilori wrote from Trinity International College, Ofada, Ogun State.