Every time we celebrate a Nigerian sporting victory, we forget that behind the medals and trophies are human beings, men and women who give their youth, health, and futures to make this nation proud. Yet once the cheering fades, what becomes of them? Too often, silence. Too often, neglect. Too often, disgrace.
Yes, some of our sporting heroes made mistakes with money, fell into bad investments, or trusted the wrong people. But should that be a death sentence? Should a man or woman who lifted our flag before the world be abandoned when times are hard? Nations that value their heroes do not behave this way.
Look to South Africa. There, retired athletes remain relevant and respected. Former stars are absorbed into media, coaching, or management. Switch on SuperSport and you will see them as analysts, earning a livelihood, sharing wisdom, and inspiring the next generation. In Europe, football leagues build entire programs to ensure retired players do not fade away. The English Premiership, for instance, has pathways into coaching, punditry, or administrative roles. Their heroes are never discarded.
But in Nigeria? We discard our champions the moment they are no longer useful. We celebrate them today, abandon them tomorrow. The truth is stark: there is no system, no program, no structured plan to safeguard their future. And this is not just negligence, it is cruelty.
The root of this tragedy lies in leadership. For decades, sports in Nigeria has been run not by passionate professionals but by politicians and their appointees. These are people who see sports not as a calling, but as a career ladder, another avenue to power, contracts, and influence. Those with real love for the game are pushed aside, while mediocrity is enthroned.
Take Segun Odegbami. “Mathematical” Odegbami remains one of the brightest minds Nigerian football has ever produced, articulate, educated, deeply passionate about the sport. He contested repeatedly for the position of NFA Chairman, but every single time he was rigged out. Why? Because men like him, with ideas and integrity, are seen as threats to the establishment. In their place, weaker, pliable figures were chosen. That is the Nigerian way, keep brilliance away, enthrone mediocrity.
Until we change this mindset, nothing will improve. Our sports will continue to collapse. Our heroes will continue to die in penury. Our young athletes will continue to be warned that after their glory days, they are entirely on their own.
And to those youngsters who are making millions today, this is your wake-up call. Spend wisely. Invest wisely. Prepare for the day the cheering stops, because in Nigeria, there is no safety net waiting for you. The system does not care.
But Nigeria can do better. Nigeria must do better. We need urgent reforms that place the right people, passionate, visionary, competent leaders in charge of sports administration. We need programs that offer financial education to athletes while they are still active. We need pension and welfare schemes for those who gave their bodies and their youth to serve this country. And above all, we need to stop treating our heroes as disposable.
The greatness of a nation is measured not only by how it treats its powerful, but by how it treats those who gave their best and are now in need. South Africa respects its legends. Europe celebrates theirs. Nigeria? We forget ours.
It is time to change that narrative. If we cannot care for those who carried our dreams on their shoulders, then what moral right do we have to ask the next generation to fight for the flag?
By Bola Babarinde
