FIFA IS COMING TO NIGERIA, SO WHAT?

By Paul Okoku

A joint FIFA–CAF delegation is expected in Nigeria on September 14 and 15 to consult football stakeholders and assess the leadership vacuum created by the resignations of NFF President Ibrahim Musa Gusau, General Secretary Mohammed Sanusi and the NFF board.

I welcome the visit. Nigerian football needs an orderly, credible and inclusive transition. But we must ask an uncomfortable question:

*FIFA is coming to Nigeria—so what?*

Will this visit change the system, or will it merely reset the board and return Nigerian football to the same people, interests and leadership culture?

FIFA and CAF should not come merely to restore order. They should help Nigeria break the cycle that repeatedly destroys that order.

*NIGERIANS ARE NOT MAD ENOUGH*

I recently watched a video by content creator Kelechi R. Eluma, who described herself as having “japada”—returned to Nigeria intending to make Lagos her home.

By her fifth month in Lagos, the realities of daily life had begun to wear her down: unreliable electricity, water unfit for human consumption that forces people to depend on bottled or sachet “pure water,” deteriorating roads and the absence of other basic services that should be treated as fundamental rights in a functioning society.

She became so frustrated that she announced she was ready to “japa” again—leave Nigeria and return to the United States. Holding up her American passport, she reminded herself and her audience: “*I still have my blue passport.*”

Then she delivered the statement that stayed with me: “*Nigerians are not mad enough*.”

That blue passport represented more than a travel document. It represented an escape route—an option available to her but unavailable to millions of Nigerians who must remain and endure these conditions.

She was not calling for violence. She was saying that Nigerians have not become sufficiently outraged, organised and determined to reject a political system that repeatedly produces the same unacceptable conditions. We complain, endure, adjust and privately provide what government should provide publicly—and then return many of the same people to power.

Football is only one segment of Nigerian society, and we have brought the same attitude into its administration.

We complain about failure, but defend the system that produces it.

We demand change, but resist new people.

We reject the results, but continue supporting the same leadership formula.

*ANGRY ENOUGH TO COMPLAIN—BUT NOT TO CHANGE*

The latest results tell the story.

The Super Eagles failed to qualify for the 2022 FIFA World Cup and then missed the 2026 FIFA World Cup—two consecutive World Cups for the first time since Nigeria made its tournament debut in 1994.

The Super Falcons crashed out of the 2026 Women’s Africa Cup of Nations in Morocco following a 1–0 quarterfinal defeat to Cameroon. Given another opportunity to reach the 2027 FIFA Women’s World Cup through a playoff, they lost 2–1 to South Africa. For the first time since the Women’s World Cup began in 1991, Nigeria will not be there.

Also Read: FIFA denies Morocco’s claim over 2030 World Cup final venue

During the same period, the Flying Eagles suffered a humiliating 4–1 defeat to Burkina Faso in the WAFU B final. That result eliminated Nigeria from the 2027 Under-20 Africa Cup of Nations and, consequently, the 2027 FIFA Under-20 World Cup.

Five major campaigns. Five painful failures involving three of Nigeria’s most important national teams.

The combined weight of those failures became the last straw. Nigerians became angry enough to demand the departure of Ibrahim Musa Gusau and the NFF board. The pressure over the direction of Nigerian football reached the highest level of government—the desk of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu—and helped create the climate for a complete leadership change.

But are Nigerians angry enough to dismantle the structure that repeatedly produces those leaders?

For more than 30 years, successive NFF administrations have largely been controlled by people who never played international football for Nigeria. During that period, we have experienced disputed elections, financial controversies, unpaid coaches and players, unstable technical appointments, weakened domestic competitions and repeated international disappointments.

Nigerians are mad as hell about the results. We complain after every failure. We demand resignations, condemn the administrators and question their competence.

Yet when qualified former internationals express an interest in leadership, some Nigerians immediately declare that football administration is not reserved for footballers. They tell former players to “learn the ropes”—as if the people who supposedly learned those ropes have delivered the transformation Nigeria was promised.

No serious person is arguing that wearing the national jersey automatically qualifies anyone to become NFF president. Former footballers must demonstrate education, integrity, administrative competence, leadership experience and a credible programme.

But why should qualified former internationals be disqualified in people’s minds before they are even allowed to compete?

You are dissatisfied with the results produced under decades of non-football leadership, yet you insist that leadership must continue to emerge from the same establishment.

As Nigerians would say, “*yeye dey smell.*”

A familiar saying, widely attributed to Albert Einstein although its authorship is disputed, describes insanity as doing the same thing repeatedly while expecting a different result.

That is precisely what Nigerian football has been doing.

We recycle substantially the same leadership structure, preserve the same voting system, empower the same interests and expect a different outcome. That is not reform. It is institutional insanity.

*WHY DOES FIFA CREATE FEAR IN NIGERIA?*

FIFA itself is not frightening. The consequences of suspension are.

A FIFA suspension could prevent:

* Nigeria’s national teams from participating in international competitions.
* Nigerian clubs from competing in continental tournaments.
* Nigerian officials from participating in FIFA and CAF activities.
* The NFF from receiving certain FIFA benefits and development support.

But there is another reason the name FIFA creates fear: some administrators have learned to use the threat of “government interference” as a shield against scrutiny and accountability.

Whenever questions are raised about leadership, finances or the administration of Nigerian football, somebody warns: “*Be careful, FIFA will ban Nigeria*.”

But what kind of independence are we protecting? Is it independence to develop football—or independence to preserve poor leadership?

Are these the same administrators Nigerians are clamouring to return to office?

During my playing years, beginning in the 1970s and continuing into the 1980s, the government regularly appointed, replaced and reorganised the leadership of the Nigeria Football Association and the National Sports Commission. Yet we did not live under the constant threat of FIFA suspension that confronts Nigeria today.

FIFA’s principle of independence for member associations is not entirely new, but the organisation intensified its enforcement against government interference during the modern era, particularly from the early 2000s. Nigeria was suspended in 2010 and again in 2014 following government actions, court disputes and attempts to displace FIFA-recognised football leadership.

Today, practically every intervention by Nigerian authorities is treated as a potential FIFA crisis.

However, football autonomy must never mean immunity from Nigerian law. Regrettably, over the past two or three decades, some Nigerian football administrators have repeatedly used FIFA and the threat of suspension as a hiding place—demanding independence from government intervention while resisting transparency, scrutiny and accountability.

FIFA’s statutes were designed to protect football from improper political control, not to protect football administrators from legitimate investigations into corruption, fraud or the misuse of public funds.

*KEEP YOUR EYES ON A SWIVEL*

In military and security language, keeping your “eyes on a swivel” means remaining completely alert, continually scanning your surroundings and recognising danger or sudden change from every direction.

As the FIFA–CAF delegation begins its consultations, Nigerians must keep their eyes on a swivel.

We must watch who is invited into the room, who controls the transition, how the electoral rules are applied and whether familiar interests are merely repositioning themselves behind new names.

Consultations cannot be restricted to state football association chairmen and traditional powerbrokers. Former internationals, active and retired players, credible players’ unions, clubs, coaches, referees, women’s football representatives, supporters, sponsors and independent professionals must be meaningfully represented.

The existing *54-vote electoral structure—with 37 votes belonging to the state football associations and the Federal Capital Territory while the players’ constituency receives only one*—cannot reasonably be described as inclusive.

*IS A NORMALISATION COMMITTEE COMING?*

The absence of an elected NFF board makes a FIFA-appointed Normalisation Committee a serious possibility, but Nigerians should not treat it as a decision that has already been made.

In exceptional circumstances, FIFA may establish a temporary committee to administer a member association’s daily affairs, review its statutes and electoral regulations, conduct credible elections and hand authority to properly elected leadership.

That may be necessary in Nigeria’s present situation. However, FIFA and CAF must first determine whether the NFF Congress or another recognised organ can constitutionally manage the transition.

If a Normalisation Committee is appointed, its composition will be critical. It must not become a temporary home for the same interests that created the crisis. Its members must be independent, credible and free from undisclosed political, commercial or electoral ambitions.

Normalisation must mean more than normalising the offices. It must begin normalising the institution.

*FIFA AND CAF CANNOT RESCUE US FROM OURSELVES*

FIFA and CAF can facilitate consultations, help establish a temporary administration and protect the credibility of the electoral process. FIFA can approve a Normalisation Committee and provide a roadmap back to elected leadership.

But neither organisation can manufacture integrity for Nigeria. They cannot permanently dismantle entrenched interests without Nigerian cooperation. They cannot force us to choose competence over connections, national service over personal entitlement or meaningful reform over familiar promises.

FIFA and CAF can help create the opportunity, but Nigerians must choose a different direction.

I remain hopeful, but our optimism must be protected by realism, public scrutiny and continued vigilance.

Nigeria, wake up.

The delegation’s arrival is not the achievement. The real achievement will come when we stop recycling failure, open the doors to qualified new leadership—including deserving former internationals—and finally normalise integrity, accountability, public scrutiny and genuine football administration.

If FIFA and CAF come merely to change the names on the office doors *without changing the system that produces them*, they will meet, they will leave—and Nigerian football will remain exactly where they found it, and *nothing will change.

Tags: FIFA NFF Paul Okoku