Athletics Federation of Nigeria Bows Out – “We Won’t Stop Ofili from Switching Nationality”

In a stunning and unprecedented statement that has sent ripples across the athletic community both at home and abroad, the Athletics Federation of Nigeria (AFN) has announced that it will not stand in the way of U.S.-based sprint sensation Favour Ofili if she chooses to switch her allegiance from Nigeria to another nation. The declaration comes amid growing tensions and mounting concerns over the treatment of elite athletes in Nigeria, and it marks a watershed moment in the ongoing conversation about national identity, athlete welfare, and the future of Nigerian sports.

Favour Ofili, a name that has become synonymous with Nigerian excellence on the track, has long been seen as one of the country’s brightest prospects. Bursting onto the international scene with a string of record-breaking performances and standout NCAA appearances for Louisiana State University (LSU), Ofili has consistently carried Nigeria’s flag with pride—even as many of her compatriots fell victim to the systemic failures of sports governance in the country.

But recent whispers of a potential nationality switch have grown louder in athletic circles, especially as Ofili’s frustrations with the sports establishment have become harder to ignore. Sources close to the athlete indicate that she has been courted by several countries looking to capitalize on her explosive talent, including the United States, where she currently resides and trains. For many Nigerians, the mere suggestion of her departure was unthinkable—until now.

In a surprisingly direct statement released early this morning, a senior official from the AFN confirmed that the federation will not block any athlete who wishes to change nationality, including Ofili. “We won’t stop Ofili from switching nationality,” the spokesperson said flatly, adding, “Every athlete has the right to decide what is best for their career. Our job is to support, not to coerce.”

The statement, brief but seismic, has opened a floodgate of reactions. On social media, Nigerians voiced a mix of outrage, disappointment, and bitter resignation. “Another national treasure lost,” one user lamented. “This is what happens when our best are not valued.” Others turned their ire toward the AFN itself, accusing the body of years of neglect, poor funding, and failure to build a system that rewards excellence. “Why is it that our brightest athletes always feel they must leave to thrive?” asked a former national coach.

Indeed, the AFN’s hands-off approach contrasts sharply with the strategies of other national athletics federations around the world, many of which go to great lengths—through incentives, development programs, and personal outreach—to retain their str athletes. For Nigeria, a country with a rich track history and a passionate fan base, this latest development is being interpreted by some as a sign of surrender in a long-running battle to retain athletic talent.

It’s not the first time Nigeria has faced such a dilemma. In recent years, top-tier athletes like Tobi Amusan and Divine Oduduru have expressed public frustration with the way sports are administered back home. While some have stayed out of loyalty or a desire to inspire change, others have quietly drifted toward countries offering better facilities, coaching, and financial support. The difference this time is the public nature of the AFN’s announcement—and the stature of the athlete involved.

Ofili, still only in her early twenties, has already shattered national records and drawn comparisons to sprinting royalty. Her historic 21.96 seconds in the 200 meters made her the first Nigerian woman to break the 22-second barrier, a feat that placed her among the world’s elite. Despite these achievements, she has reportedly felt sidelined by federation politics and unsupported during key moments in her career.

The timing of this development could not be more delicate. With the Paris 2024 Olympics just around the corner, Nigeria’s preparations are under intense scrutiny. The potential loss of a medal contender like Ofili could deal a devastating blow to the nation’s medal hopes. More broadly, it would deepen the growing perception that Nigeria is failing to nurture its own talent—pushing athletes into the arms of more organized nations that can offer what they cannot.

In response to the AFN’s statement, Ofili herself has yet to make a formal declaration. However, those close to her suggest that she is weighing her options carefully, fully aware of the implications her decision would carry—not just for her own career, but for the broader landscape of African athletics. Switching national allegiance is not a simple process; it involves layers of legal, bureaucratic, and emotional hurdles. But it is not without precedent, and many believe that if any athlete has the clout and courage to make that leap, it is Ofili.

The silence from the Nigerian Ministry of Sports has been deafening. Calls for urgent intervention have so far gone unanswered, with many observers pointing out that this silence mirrors the apathy that has long plagued Nigerian sports administration. While ministers and bureaucrats continue to make lofty promises about reform and investment, athletes like Ofili face a reality of poor infrastructure, late payments, and a lack of psychological and career support.

As the dust settles, the real question is not just whether Favour Ofili will switch nationality—it is what her story represents. Is it a one-off case of personal ambition? Or is it a symptom of a deeper rot, a sign that Nigeria is systematically pushing away the very stars it should be celebrating?

Whatever her decision, Ofili’s journey has already forced a national reckoning. The AFN’s unwillingness to fight for her retention may appear pragmatic on the surface, but for many, it reads like a capitulation—an admission that the system cannot, or will not, change.

For now, the track awaits, and the world watches. Whether draped in green and white or another nation’s colors, one thing is certain: Favour Ofili will run. The only question that remains is—for whom?