When the Supreme Court of Nigeria handed down its judgment on July 11th, 2024, granting financial autonomy to local governments, I felt a wave of optimism. The ruling declared that all 774 local governments in the country would now receive their allocations directly from the federation account, bypassing state governments that had long kept them financially strangled. This change, I believed, could finally breathe life into local governance and, by extension, grassroots football development—a passion I have long championed.
A few years ago, as the State Football Association (FA) Chairman in Ekiti State, I embarked on a mission to build a robust football structure across our 16 local football councils. I envisioned a future where young talents in Ekiti could rise through a system designed to nurture and showcase their abilities. My tour of the local football councils wasn’t just about football; it was about laying the groundwork for youth development through sports.
During these tours, my first stop would always be the local government secretariats. There, I’d sit down with the authorities—sometimes the political heads, sometimes the administrative leaders—to discuss my vision. These meetings, however, were often sobering. The reality of local government incapacitation became glaringly clear during one such visit to Moba Local Government.
I vividly remember the words of Mr. Bunmi Ajimoko, a former Chairman of the Association of Local Governments of Nigeria (ALGON) in Ekiti State. As he welcomed my team, he didn’t sugarcoat the harsh reality. “Until the local government gains its autonomy, your plans are just dreams,” he told me. “We don’t have any money of our own to spend.”
His words echoed in my mind, reminding me of a knowledge-seeking journey I undertook to South Africa in 2017. There, I had my first real lesson on the role of local councils in sports development, especially at the grassroots level. I learned that in South Africa, most sports facilities are owned and maintained by local councils—a stark contrast to Nigeria, where local football councils own virtually nothing.
This wasn’t just the case in South Africa. As I dug deeper, I discovered that many of the world’s iconic sports complexes are owned by local councils. For instance, Milan’s San Siro Stadium, home to both AC Milan and Inter Milan, is owned by the Milan City Council. In Manchester, the City of Manchester Stadium—better known as the Etihad Stadium—is owned by Manchester City Council and is the home of Premier League giants Manchester City. Even in South Africa, Cape Town FC plays at the municipally-owned Cape Town Stadium, while Mamelodi Sundowns, the current defending champions, play at Lucas Moripe Stadium, owned by the local municipality.
These revelations made me question why, in Nigeria, it was the federal and state governments that were building and refurbishing stadiums. The answer was provided by Mr. Ajimoko’s simple but profound truth: local councils in Nigeria are poor.
This poverty of resources has far-reaching implications, especially for sports development. Football, like many other sports, thrives on early talent identification and nurturing. The best platforms for scouting young talents are intra and inter schools competitions as well as intra- and inter-local government competitions. But these competitions require quality facilities and trained coaches—resources that have been sorely lacking.
Now, with financial autonomy finally granted to local governments, there is a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, with direct access to funds, our local councils can begin to build the infrastructure needed to support grassroots sports development. Perhaps the dream of seeing Ekiti’s youth rise through a system designed for them isn’t just a dream anymore.
As I reflect on the Supreme Court’s judgment, I can’t help but feel that this could be the turning point. For the first time, local governments have the financial power to change their narrative. And with that power, perhaps they can finally give our young athletes the platform they need to shine.
