When Morocco’s King Mohammed VI commissioned the $10 billion stadium construction program that hosted the African Cup of Nations (AFCON) 2025, he understood what many African politicians miss: winning tournaments transforms political capital. In an election year, Nigerian leaders seeking high office might note that Morocco’s investment didn’t just host tournaments; it announced Morocco as Africa’s sporting superpower while its politicians basked in reflected glory.
The recently concluded AFCON was the culmination of two decades of sustained investment, beginning with the Mohammed VI Football Academy in 2007 and accelerating after Morocco was stripped of hosting rights in 2015 following its withdrawal due to Ebola fears. That embarrassment catalysed systematic reform. In three years, Morocco hosted the U-17, U-23, Women’s and Men’s tournaments, establishing itself as the Confederation of African Football’s (CAF) go-to host. What Nigeria lacks isn’t talent but political will: the commitment to fund infrastructure beyond electoral cycles, resist budget diversions, and maintain facilities after ribbon-cutting ceremonies. If Nigeria is to secure the elusive fourth AFCON title and fulfil the promise of this new golden generation, several steps are needed to reposition the country’s approach to sports.
TWO STADIUMS FOR 200 MILLION PEOPLE: A SUCCESS STORY
Asisat Oshoala notably implored Nigerian authorities to bid for tournaments, receiving the same treatment as Morocco did as host. There is form for hosts to do well at AFCON, as Nigeria knows all too well after winning its first title on home soil in 1980. But even with an expanded tournament requiring hosts with more sustainable infrastructure and economies, Nigeria might struggle to secure a successful bid because of the investment required. Nigeria has hosted tournaments, including the U-20 World Cup in 1999 and the U-17 World Cup in 2009, as well as AFCON tournaments in 1980 and 2000. But Nigeria’s facilities have not kept pace with the growing needs of tournament organisers.
Morocco’s success today is the result of long-term investment. While many might recall Morocco falling just short in its bid for the 2010 World Cup to South Africa, its first bid was ahead of the 1998 tournament. France, which hosted and won that edition, was considered the favourite but only beat the North Africans in a 12-7 vote. Morocco lost the hosting rights to the 2000 AFCON to a joint bid from Ghana and Nigeria. In the years since, the country built its infrastructure, losing the 2004 Final to Tunisia and then coming of age at the 2022 World Cup. This level of investment has seen FIFA open its first regional office in Rabat, secure hosting rights to the next five U-17 Women’s World Cups, and construct the Grand Stade Hassan II stadium, designed to hold 115,000 people and become the largest football arena in the world. A journey that began with the bid loss in 1992 for the 1998 World Cup will culminate with hosting the 2030 World Cup alongside Spain and Portugal.
Morocco’s investment has grown steadily over time. Of the nine stadiums used at the last AFCON, four were completed in 2025, and the earliest, in Fez, was completed in 2007. They have sustainably built infrastructure over the years to reach a point where such facilities can be repurposed for domestic clubs and create opportunities for other tournaments. The same is not the case in Nigeria. The Akwa Ibom Stadium in Uyo was the only CAF-accredited stadium in Nigeria for its last interclub tournaments. If we add the Abuja Stadium, owing to its hosting of FIFA qualifiers, the quality of Nigeria’s stadiums pales in comparison to South Africa’s stadiums that hosted the 2010 World Cup and Morocco’s stadiums that were repeatedly praised during the last AFCON. Without quality facilities, there will be concerns about fan safety and security, as well as players’ ability to perform at their best.
This is a twin challenge: authorities need to build quality stadia and work with clubs and domestic structures to ensure sustainable use afterwards. The Abuja Stadium gulps exorbitant funds for refurbishment because Nigeria’s capital is not home to a Premier League team and thus lacks an anchor tenant which can cover operational costs, and the Akwa Ibom Stadium’s tenants, Akwa United, have moved to the Uyo Township Stadium for their campaign in the second tier. In contrast, Morocco invested $10 billion in building nine international-standard venues, which will also support its co-hosting of the 2030 World Cup. According to Morocco’s tourism ministry, hosting AFCON 2025 attracted over 1.5 million visitors and generated approximately $800 million in revenue. Such investment provides dividends in hosting tournaments, improving player performance, and supporting domestic clubs’ long-term success.
Building World Cup-standard stadiums also supports the adjacent infrastructure needed for such events, including roads and rail networks. Morocco leveraged tournament preparations to justify the extensive expansion of its high-speed rail network and is working to strengthen connections between cities ahead of the 2030 World Cup. Similar projects in Nigeria could reduce travel costs, improve mobility of labour and goods, and help build a more cohesive society by allowing more citizens to travel and experience different parts of the country.
NO COUNTRY FOR TALENTED ADULTS
Nigeria’s biggest challenge has been its mismanaged and unfulfilled potential. Nigeria has won five FIFA U-17 World Cups, more than Brazil’s four. Yet only Victor Osimhen from the 2015 squad has become a consistent senior international star. The problem isn’t talent discovery but talent development: Nigeria excels at identifying exceptional 17-year-olds but lacks the systematic academies, high-quality domestic league, and player welfare infrastructure to nurture them through their twenties. Morocco’s recent U-20 World Cup victory followed decades of academy investment; Nigeria’s U-17 dominance has produced individual brilliance without institutional support.
Nigeria needs an actual plan for its football and a central structure to guide future planning. England has St George’s Park, France has Clairefontaine, Italy has Coverciano, and Morocco now has the Mohammed VI Football Academy. These national football centres host all the country’s teams and provide a concerted effort for coaches and teams to develop a footballing identity and leverage training structures. Nigeria’s era of winning cadet championships through talent alone has ended; future success requires systematic academy infrastructure, not just exceptional individuals. Better coordination from the football federation enables a stronger, steadier pipeline of players, something Senegal incorporated into its AFCON-winning side and something Morocco will benefit from after winning the last FIFA U-20 World Cup.
DOMESTIC LEAGUE DEVELOPMENT
Building on this legacy requires a stronger domestic league. Augustine Eguavoen notably criticised Super Eagles coach Eric Chelle for not relying on domestic players during the tournament. Many cite Sunday Mba’s performance and winning goal in the 2013 Final as proof of the Nigerian league’s capacity to produce stars. Most African leagues follow one of two paths: either becoming competitive domestically and challenging for top continental honours, like Egypt, South Africa and now Morocco, or becoming steady feeder sides for European teams, such as most Francophone countries. Nigeria does neither. Its last CAF Champions League-winning side was Enyimba in 2003-2004, and no Nigerian side has reached the Final of the continent’s premier club tournament since then.
The 2025 IFFHS Leagues table ranked Nigeria’s League at 91st, a drop from 74th the year before, demonstrating the challenges in play. More investors are taking an interest in clubs, reversing the trend of relying on state funds to operate. But there needs to be stronger support to improve the quality of the competition and inspire more attendance and interest. Specific measures could include partnerships with educational institutions to allow for after-school clubs, dedicated social media strategies to connect with younger fans, and investment in broadcast infrastructure to make matches more accessible. Perhaps the biggest issue remains the lack of sustained, strategic investment in league operations, player salaries, and facility maintenance.
Nigeria has always been a sporting powerhouse, a fact fuelled by its population strength. But talent alone can only go so far. The Super Falcons have won 10 Women’s Africa Cup of Nations titles, more than any women’s national team on the continent. Yet this dominance masks systemic neglect: the Falcons repeatedly protest unpaid bonuses and inadequate support. Morocco, back-to-back beaten finalists, invested heavily in women’s football infrastructure before hosting the 2024 tournament. Nigeria’s approach remains reactive rather than strategic, celebrating victories without building the domestic league, academy structures, and professional contracts that would sustain dominance. Should Morocco win WAFCON in the coming years, it will reflect not Nigerian decline but Moroccan investment in an area Nigeria takes for granted. The warning signs are clear: without systematic support, Nigeria’s women’s football supremacy faces the same talent-without-infrastructure trap that undermines the men’s program.
WHY BUILDING STADIUMS IS BAD POLITICS (UNTIL IT ISN’T)
Sports can build societies around a common cause and provide many young people with an outlet to pursue productive careers. Nigeria, with over 200 million people, has unmatched talent depth. But talent without infrastructure produces individual brilliance, not sustained excellence. The difference between Morocco’s rise and Nigeria’s stagnation isn’t capability; it’s political economy. Morocco’s investments survive regime changes because they serve elite interests: stadium construction enriches connected contractors, tournament hosting enhances Morocco’s international profile, and football success provides nationalist legitimacy.
Nigeria’s infrastructure decays because it serves no powerful constituency beyond fans. Yet sports success could serve elite interests if properly framed: stadium construction creates lucrative contracts for connected firms, tournament hosting attracts international investment and enhances diplomatic standing, and successful national teams provide social legitimacy to ruling parties. Morocco’s elites understood this calculus; Nigerian elites have not. The difference isn’t that Nigeria lacks resources or technical capacity; it’s that sports infrastructure hasn’t been captured by politically powerful actors who would ensure its maintenance. A country notorious for sacrificing long-term institutional gains for short-term political advantage continues missing this opportunity.
This doesn’t mean Nigeria must replicate Morocco’s $10 billion investment immediately. A phased approach focusing on three to four excellent stadiums over ten years, combined with academy development and domestic league reform, could be more fiscally realistic. Public-private partnerships, similar to those used in South Africa’s World Cup preparations, could protect infrastructure from typical mismanagement while ensuring maintenance beyond electoral cycles.
Until sports infrastructure becomes politically valuable, whether through genuine development priorities or elite capture, Nigeria’s football will remain talent-rich and system-poor. Nigeria’s AFCON ’94 winning coach, Clemens Westerhof, credited his success to his access to former military vice-president Augustus Aikhomu. Eric Chelle and Justin Madugu might not be able to waltz into the Villa just yet, but the next administration faces a choice: invest systematically in sports infrastructure that outlasts electoral cycles, or watch Morocco host everything while Nigeria continues producing individual stars for European clubs rather than establishing continental dominance. The first step must be taken in year one, with budget allocations for stadium construction, academy development, and league reform treated as core infrastructure investments, not discretionary spending to be diverted when politically convenient.
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