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Ola Aina’s Snapchat is a riot on a normal day. During an international break, it’s a different thing entirely. Last week, the internet’s best-rated TV show opened with a scene at London’s Heathrow airport where Aina was joined by a range of teammates: Alex Iwobi, William Troost-Ekong, Ademola Lookman, Calvin Bassey, and Joe Aribo as […]
Ola Aina’s Snapchat is a riot on a normal day. During an international break, it’s a different thing entirely. Last week, the internet’s best-rated TV show opened with a scene at London’s Heathrow airport where Aina was joined by a range of teammates: Alex Iwobi, William Troost-Ekong, Ademola Lookman, Calvin Bassey, and Joe Aribo as they flew to Kigali where the Eagles were slated to take on the Rwandans in a World Cup qualifier. There’s the video of Ademola Lookman, the current African Player of the Year not getting recognized by an airline staffer who puts him on camera duty for a picture with Aina and Iwobi. Troost Ekong blushes as Aina shows off his tee shirt, acknowledging the team’s captain, hailing him as “Skippo.” When they get to their Kigali hotel, Aina and Iwobi are on roommate duty, expected to share a double bed. These were just some of the content that emerged within hours of the team converging.
“Innit Boys” is the appellation through which the contemporary generation of Super Eagles stars whose attachment to their home country was shaped in the diaspora are known. “Innit” is an affectionate allusion to South London slang and their British accents. It is a quintessentially Nigerian approach to comedy- taking something that could be derogatory and giving it a self-deprecating interpretation. To wit, think of the stage names of two of the country’s most prominent comedians: I Go Dye and Lepacious Bose.
That said, it is worth acknowledging the role of the Innit Boys in shaping the perspective around identity and what it means to be Nigerian. The relationship between Nigeria and the United Kingdom has its roots in colonial history. It all goes back to Oba Dosunmu’s cession of Lagos Island to the British in 1861. The reverberations are still felt in the most significant and insignificant of ways. Port Harcourt, the capital of the country’s third most economically powerful state, was named so because Lord Lugard, in an act of managing upwards, sought to honour Lewis Harcourt, the Secretary of State for the Colonies, when the port was built in 1912. It didn’t matter that Harcourt was a notorious sexual predator. One of my bugbears with the current Nigerian political class is that it hasn’t dawned on any of its members to address this.
The Nigerian-British relationship also meant that when the pre-independence generation sought to further their education or seek the proverbial golden fleece, they often went to the United Kingdom. Some of the advantages were obvious: language, the Nigerian education system was modeled after the British, direct flights, and sharing the same timezone has meant that in the decades since then, the Nigerian community has gained strength in its numbers and impact on public life. Per the 2021 census, there are 266, 877 Nigerian-born residents in the United Kingdom. Nigerian descendants are believed to be the largest Black population in the United Kingdom. In this context, it is understandable that identity crises feel inevitable. Not Nigerian enough, not British enough. In her 2005 essay titled, Bye-Bye Babar (Or: What is an Afropolitan?), Taiye Selasi introduced the concept of Afropolitanism. She described Afropolitans as a new generation of globally connected Africans—culturally hybrid individuals whose blend of African heritage with international influences due to migration, education, and experience informed a fluid, transnational identity shaped by multiple cultures. Being black and cognisant of one’s Nigerian roots are very different from actually engaging with Nigerian culture – in both its realistic and caricatured forms. Cultural industries like football and music have naturally offered a pathway for integration. The Nineties and Noughties saw footballers and artists like Sade Adu, Nwankwo Kanu, Jay Jay Okocha, Celestine Babayaro, Yakubu Aiyegbeni, Joseph Yobo, Skepta, Lemar, Tinie Tempah, Seal, and Mikel Obi excel. They offered positive representation for young Nigerians.
As Afrobeats and Nollywood have risen to global prominence, it has fallen on some of these diasporans to facilitate its explosive growth. Think back to Drake hopping on Wizkid’s Ojuelgeba Remix and its role in validating the Afrobeats set just as the movement was finding its feet and priming itself for mainstream success. That moment was made possible by honorary Nigerian ambassador Skepta, who put the song on Drake’s radar and midwifed the collaboration. In the following months and years, Skepta’s close associate, Grace Ladoja, would create the Homecoming platform- a yearly festival to facilitate cultural exchange and dialogue between the diaspora and the “motherland.” Ladoja was also contracted as a consultant by Nike in designing the Super Eagles’ kit. When industry executive Bankulli said, “London is the capital of Afrobeats” in 2022, it was difficult for me to take much issue with it.
It is this backdrop that informs the Innit Boys. Opting to play for Nigeria is a choice when juxtaposed with playing for England. When Alex Iwobi, then a wonder kid at Arsenal opted for the Super Eagles over the Three Lions, he bucked a trend that had typically seen dual-identity kids pick the countries of their birth over that of their parents. Since making his debut for the Eagles in 2015, Iwobi has earned 83 caps, making him the player with the 7th highest number of caps in Super Eagles history. At this point, he will surely have his eyes set on surpassing Ahmed Musa’s record of 109. Iwobi’s example as a player who opted to play for Nigeria and flourished has been instructive. Critics would argue that the English team is far more competitive and that some of these players are not good enough, but it only undermines their agency in making a choice they didn’t need to make. Playing for Nigeria could have drawbacks in a climate that prioritizes Western interests. The African Cup of Nations calendar, which takes place midseason, has been used as a cudgel against the marketability of African players. It also doesn’t help that, as one of the world’s poorest continents, African football is viewed as underdeveloped due to poor investment in infrastructure.
Growing up in foreign academies, the experiences of the Innit Boys are very different from their homegrown counterparts. Aina, who grew up in Southwark, cannot relate to Victor Osimhen hawking pure water on the streets of Lagos, but when they put on the green Nike jerseys, those differences go out of the window. They’re motivated by one outcome: bringing joy to Nigeria’s football-crazy population, just as they did at last year’s African Cup of Nations. When I think about the dramatic Nigeria vs South Africa game, which saw Nigerians hilariously proclaim our ownership of Amapiano, all I feel is the joy of watching the Eagles overcome one of our rivals. The deeper nuances of the team don’t play in my memory. In that sense, those videos communicate a powerful message: a generation of Nigerians has found themselves and given a positive account of engaging with their home country through football. At a time when the Nigerian experience feels dreary and wrought with anxiety, the Innit Boys remind us that at our best, we are love, light, and #positivevibes.
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