“It was quite possible that characteristic organisational sloppiness and misdemeanour blighted TEAM NIGERIA’s preparations. But the factors limiting Nigerian sporting achievement were more fundamental.”
Like many other Nigerians, you ended your emotional investment in the games of the 33rd Olympiad from the moment World Record holder Tobi Amusan’s heroic last-second lunge at the tape in her semi-final race failed to secure her a place in the finals of her 100 metres hurdles event. Your hope was that she would race to glory and achieve her life-long ambition of an Olympic medal, despite the repeated efforts of some Western sportswriters to talk her down and disrespect her.
It was not to be. The most impressive track athlete Nigeria has produced in its recent history would live to fight another day, hopefully.
To speak of Nigeria having ‘produced’ Tobi or any of the other young men and women who represented the nation in various sports is probably an excessively generous turn of phrase. Nigeria is not generally known for intentionally showing in any athlete’s sporting development. What it gets and purports to celebrate and cultivate is the sporadic flare-ups of talent and commitment thrown up by serendipity. A Kanu Nwankwo here. An Aruna Quadri there. Even Rena Wakama, who came in on her own account to coach the most successful Olympic team of female basketballers to ever represent the nation.
The apologetic words of the Minister of Sports Development in the wake of the dismal performance showed that he did not ‘get it’. It was quite possible that characteristic organisational sloppiness and misdemeanour blighted TEAM NIGERIA’s preparations. But the factors limiting Nigerian sporting achievement were more fundamental.
The Paris Olympics, apart from once again providing a platform for the giants such as the USA and China to flex their muscles, were an opportunity for some minnows to announce their presence. Botswana won its first gold medal and promptly declared a public holiday to celebrate. When Julien Alfred of St Lucia breasted the tape in the 100 metres race ahead of all the field, many people scratched their heads, wondering where on God’s earth was St Lucia. It turned out to be an island nation in the eastern Caribbean with a population of less than two hundred thousand people. Among the Africans, Kenya kept its stranglehold on the long distances, with eleven medals, out of which four were gold. South Africa had six, Ethiopia four. And so on.
The point of all this is not to make anyone feel bad. This is not Nigeria’s first No-Medal Olympics; it is its eighth. And it is not even about the minister, who is barely a year in office. The making of Olympic champions is not a one-year affair.
An awakening on the need to go back to the grassroots to encourage, identify, and nurture new talent has lately been taking place in the game of table tennis, for instance. The thinking behind it is the same thinking that needs to be imbibed across the board for Nigeria to truly achieve its potential in sports. The largest black country on earth, on paper, should not only be dominating the sprints but should be regularly blowing other countries out of the water, especially in those sports where people of African descent have regularly excelled, whatever national colours they wear.
Early in the life of Nigerian table tennis, in Lagos, there were tables everywhere, in street corners, under bridges, and in many schools. There were ‘Boys and Girls Clubs’ of all manner of description, from Oko Awo to Ebute Metta. When a surgeon who worked in General Hospital, Odan, Dr Adegboyega Efunkoya, got incensed by watching an international duel in a school hall on Broad Street in which Ghana roundly trounced Nigeria, he decided to take on the mantle of national leadership of the game’s association to drive drastic change. There was a pool of almost-ready talents that could be honed to turn the tables against Ghana, Nigeria’s then perpetual rival. But he also saw the need to reach down and look for next-generation talents.
To give but one example, a little slip of a girl named Olawunmi Majekodunmi was not only identified in this manner, but she was also taken under his wing and nurtured to the highest pinnacle of success as an African champion, living and going to school with his family.
Efunkoya is being celebrated this month with the fifth iteration of the national cadet competition conducted by the Foundation set up in his name by former players whose lives were touched by his vision, a vision that brought about a golden era in the game for Nigeria.
Enduring sporting achievement begins with the creation of the widest ambience for participation. Sports in every school, at every level, and in every neighbourhood. In many Nigerian cities, like Lagos, playgrounds have been built over, and there is nowhere for children to recreate, not to speak of discovering their hidden talents, whether it is for running, jumping, or playing ball.
It is only after this that competition becomes meaningful.
In the past, there were regular athletic meets such as the Hussey Shield within and between schools in different regions. In football, there was the Principals Cup in Lagos and its equivalent in other places. By drawing from such a deep pool of participation, the fact of having a population of 200 million gets to be a significant fact.
Kids identified as showing potential would receive a continuity of attention and guided practice, optimising their chances of excelling. At a national level, it becomes possible to pick, train, and promote the very best in high-performance environments and with exposure to local and international competitions. A human conveyor belt of potential winners is created in various sports, with contributions from government and private resources.
Perhaps the failure of the 33rd Olympiad is the wake-up call for the sleeping giant of Africa to rouse itself to true sporting greatness. It is—er—not a sprint, but a marathon, dear Minister.
