Guest ColumnistGuest Columnist By Adebayo Abubakar
By the time the final whistle blew on 16 November 2025, in Rabat, DR Congo celebrated its passage to the 2026 FIFA World Cup final play-off; Nigeria had not just lost a football match. It had lost its place at the biggest global sporting event in history. Here, we’re talking about an expanded 48-team tournament with at least nine African slots, which eventually became ten, a feast laid out for the continent’s footballing nations. Nigeria, the most populous Black nation on earth, one of Africa’s traditional football powerhouses, was nowhere to be found.
The failure is not fate. It is the bill finally arriving for years of reckless housekeeping at the Glass House —the Nigeria Football Federation (NFF).
The curtain has now fallen on the 2026 FIFA World Cup, and Spain emerged Champions, after a Ferran Torres-inspired 1-0 victory against a Lionel Messi-led Argentina. But for millions of football-loving Nigerians, the tournament has been a painful reminder of what could have been. While fans across Africa proudly watched Morocco, Senegal, Egypt, Algeria, South Africa and other representatives compete on football’s biggest stage, Nigeria’s absence was impossible to ignore. Every spectacular goal, every thrilling upset and every celebration served as another painful reminder that one of Africa’s traditional football powerhouses had failed to qualify.
The disappointment extends far beyond national pride. Modern football is no longer merely a sporting contest; it is a multi-billion-dollar industry. Qualification for the FIFA World Cup guarantees enormous financial rewards for national associations, governments, sponsors, players and the wider football ecosystem. FIFA distributes hundreds of millions of dollars in prize money and participation grants, while players receive substantial bonuses and allowances throughout the competition — as much as $5,000 per day. The economic opportunities generated through broadcasting rights, sponsorships, merchandising and tourism are immense.
Nigeria missed all of these opportunities.
The country also missed a priceless platform to showcase its latest footballing talents to the world, strengthen its global sporting reputation and inspire another generation of young footballers. Instead, Nigerian fans were reduced to doing “Gbas Gbos” on behalf of Messi and Ronaldo, debating, who is the “G.O.A.T”. They were reduced to watching other nations occupy a stage that the Super Eagles once graced with distinction.
It is therefore legitimate to ask a difficult question: should the current leadership of the Nigerian Football Federation (NFF) continue in office after such a monumental failure?
Calls for accountability should never be interpreted as personal attacks. Leadership everywhere is measured by results, and in football, qualification for, and/or winning, the FIFA World Cup remain the ultimate benchmark. When those objectives are not achieved, serious self-examination becomes unavoidable.
To be fair, the blame cannot be placed solely at the doorstep of the NFF. The players, coaching crew and technical department all contributed in varying degrees to Nigeria’s failure. Costly missed chances, inconsistent performances, late arrival to camp, avoidable tactical mistakes and dropped points against supposedly weaker opposition proved decisive during the qualification campaign. There were even allegations of some elite players selecting which invitation they honoured. I wouldn’t know how true that is. But I do know some of our best legs were not there when we needed them the most. I won’t bore you with cases of late arrival to the team’s camp. It is always in the news, as though it (late arrival to camp) is something to be celebrated. Qualification is won or lost on the pitch, and the players must accept their own share of responsibility.
Yet football administration exists precisely to provide the environment for success. The federation appoints coaches, develops football policies, oversees youth development, structures domestic competitions, negotiates sponsorship deals, manages finances and creates long-term strategic plans. When these responsibilities are poorly discharged over several years, failure on the field becomes almost inevitable. My last week’s article in this column, titled “From Government Dole to Commercial Gold: Reimagining Nigerian Football as a Self-Sustaining Industry”, was about the level of ineptitude of club administrators, and how they have failed spectacularly in running their respective clubs sustainably. Unfortunately, most of these club administrators are also members of their respective State FAs, and by extension, members of the NFF executive committee. Should we really expect any magic from them at the national level? If all they do at the local and state levels is to wait for government money that comes with zero transparency and accountability, then who cares about results in order to retain their job?
Nigeria’s inability to qualify for the 2026 World Cup should therefore not be viewed as an isolated incident. It represents the culmination of years of administrative shortcomings that have steadily weakened Nigerian Football. It represents a multi-layered and results of years of syndicated failures. And the most unfortunate aspect of the whole thing is that the merchants of those failures have organised themselves into a cult of sorts, preventing people with requisite knowledge and genuine passion for the development of the game from coming on board to contribute their own quotas, however modest.
One of the most glaring indicators is the declining competitiveness of Nigerian clubs in CAF continental competitions. There was a time when Nigerian clubs commanded enormous respect across Africa. Today, clubs from countries with far smaller football economies consistently outperform Nigerian representatives in the CAF Champions League and CAF Confederation Cup.
The failure of the national team is merely the visible tip of a much deeper crisis. For more than two decades now, Nigerian clubs have been conspicuously missing in the most lucrative stages of the CAF club competitions, while clubs from less endowed countries continue to rake in hundreds of thousands of dollars. In the latest CAF club rankings, Nigeria’s top clubs are absent from the top 20, with Rivers United placing 24th and Enyimba 35th. No Nigerian club has ever been to the FIFA Club World Cup.
In the last six seasons, Nigerian clubs have found it difficult to go beyond the second round in CAF inter-club competitions. The reasons are familiar: inadequate training facilities, poor or non-existent stadia, limited financial backing, and administrative issues within the domestic league. The NPFL ecosystem lacks the financial power and stamina to retain good players, with many local talents preferring to move abroad, even to clubs in neighbouring countries with less pedigree.
These continental competitions have become so lucrative commercial ventures that, participating clubs are now earning significant financial rewards from CAF in appearance fees. Yet Nigerian clubs rarely progress to the latter stages, thereby forfeiting valuable revenue that could strengthen domestic football.
Even more troubling is Nigeria’s complete absence from the FIFA Club World Cup. While clubs from Egypt, Morocco, Tunisia and South Africa have repeatedly represented Africa on the global stage and are making serious money, no Nigerian club has ever qualified. Consequently, Nigerian football has been excluded from another major source of international exposure and substantial financial benefits.
This pattern of perennial underachievement points to deeper structural problems rather than isolated sporting disappointments. After all, “everything is connected to everything”, apologies to Dede Kelechi Deca.
The domestic league has struggled with poor organisation, inadequate marketing, inconsistent scheduling, insufficient infrastructure and limited commercial attractiveness. Youth football development remains fragmented, while coaching education has not kept pace with modern football. Talent identification is often inconsistent, and administrative instability frequently disrupts long-term planning.
Perhaps most damaging is the absence of continuity in football philosophy. Successful football nations build sustainable systems that survive changes in personnel. Nigeria, by contrast, often appears to start afresh with every new coach, every qualifying campaign and every major tournament.
This cycle must end. The best footballing nations constantly renew themselves. They recognise when fresh ideas are needed and are not afraid to embrace reform. Leadership renewal should never be seen as punishment; rather, it is a necessary ingredient for institutional growth.
If Nigerian football is to return to where it rightfully belongs, the process of rebuilding should begin immediately, starting with the NFF election slated for this September, not in 2029 when qualification matches will already be underway, but now.
The next four years provide sufficient time to implement meaningful reforms. Nigeria requires administrators with proven competence, strategic vision, transparency and commercial acumen. Football administration in the twenty-first century demands far more than passion for the game; it requires expertise in governance, finance, sports science, marketing, infrastructure development and international relations.
The NFF must prioritise the revival of the domestic league, strengthen grassroots football, invest heavily in coaching education, improve referee development, enhance transparency and accountability in decision-making, and establish clear technical pathways from youth football to the senior national teams.
Equally important is the need to reduce unnecessary administrative interference in technical matters. Coaches should be appointed based on competence rather than sentiments, while selections into national teams must remain merit-based. Consistency in football philosophy should replace the frequent changes that have characterised Nigeria’s recent history.
The stakes have never been higher.
FIFA President Gianni Infantino has proposed further expanding the men’s World Cup from 48 to 64 teams for the 2030 edition, although the proposal has yet to be adopted. If eventually approved, such an expansion would create additional qualification opportunities for countries like Nigeria. More participating teams would also mean more matches, increased broadcasting revenue and greater financial distributions from FIFA.
Nigeria cannot afford to remain absent from that conversation.
Football remains one of the country’s strongest instruments of national unity, socioeconomic empowerment for the youths, international influence and economic opportunity for those who are entrepreneurially inclined. A successful football industry creates employment for coaches, players, administrators, broadcasters, journalists, marketers, medical professionals, security personnel, hospitality businesses and countless others. The English Premier League demonstrates how properly managed football can contribute billions of pounds annually to a national economy through broadcasting, tourism, taxation and investment.
Nigeria possesses the population, the talents, the passion and the market size to build a similarly vibrant football economy within Africa. What has been lacking is effective leadership capable of translating those advantages into sustainable success.
The time has therefore come for courage, honesty and accountability.
If the current leadership has some honour left, and believes it has exhausted its ideas, it should make way for a new set of individuals with fresh energy and innovative thinking. If it believes it still has the capacity to deliver, then it must present Nigerians with a credible, measurable roadmap that guarantees meaningful reforms rather than promises.
The failure to qualify for the 2026 FIFA World Cup should not merely become another painful chapter in Nigeria’s football history. It should serve as the turning point from which genuine transformation begins.
Former Super Eagles captain, William Troost-Ekong, has expressed his willingness to transition into the boardroom and influence things from within. He has also insisted that the disappointment of two successive qualification failures must inspire the NFF to implement a clear and sustainable plan that will give Nigeria the best chance of returning to football’s biggest stage in 2030. In the same vein, former Super Eagles’ captain, John Obi Mikel, pardon his exuberant utterances in front of the microphone lately, has also declared he is ready to take up a leadership role, but only if there are genuine reforms first.
Please, spare me the argument that “because you’re a successful player doesn’t guarantee your success as an administrator”. With those established vultures around the boardroom, even a Michael Emenalo who has been able to etch his name in gold as an administrator at Chelsea, AS Monaco and the Saudi league would fail.
Therefore, the countdown to the 2030 World Cup has already started. Nigeria cannot afford another wasted cycle. The cleansing of the Glass House is not about personalities; it should be about restoring excellence, rebuilding confidence and ensuring that the Super Eagles once again soar among football’s global elite.
For a nation so richly blessed with footballing talents, perennial underachievement is not destiny. It is a consequence of choices—and better choices can produce better results.
Abubakar writes from Ilorin, Kwara State. He can be reached via: marxbayour@gmail.com
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