
By Editor
When the news broke that billionaire Alh. Abdul Samad Rabiu pledged 500,000 USD to the Super Eagles ahead of the our encounter with the Moroccan team at the AFCON, many Nigerians smiled. We did too. Football remains one of the few spaces where unity still comes naturally in a country often weighed down by hardship, politics, and uncertainty.
But beyond the applause, a quieter reflection emerged.
In Nigeria, we celebrate goals loudly and reward victories publicly. There is nothing wrong with that. Football brings joy, pride, and collective relief. Yet, far away from stadiums and television screens, there are Nigerians whose victories are never announced.
They are our soldiers.
They do not play ninety minutes and retreat to comfort. They spend months in forests, border communities, and volatile terrains. They do not hear cheers when they survive an ambush, and there is no spotlight when they return safely from patrol. Sometimes, even their sacrifices pass with little public acknowledgement.
This reflection is not an argument against football, nor is it a call to place monetary rewards on warfare. Conflict must never be incentivised, and peace must always remain the ultimate goal.
However, influence matters.
Imagine the fate of our military if respected private-sector voices Alh. Abdul Samad Rabiu, Alh. Aliko Dangote, Tony Elumelu, and others consistently spoke up, not to glorify war, but to advocate for welfare.
Imagine public conversations centred on:
i. Proper medical care for injured soldiers
ii. Adequate insurance and support for families of the fallen
iii. Improved living conditions for personnel in service
iv. Structured post-service care for veterans
Not rewards for conflict. Not profits from war. Just dignity for service
In Nigeria, when influential voices speak with clarity and conscience, policy attention follows. We have seen it in education, entrepreneurship, and humanitarian efforts. The same moral advocacy can shape how we care for those who defend our nation.
Our soldiers may not seek attention, but they deserve remembrance beyond slogans and ceremonial tributes.
We can celebrate our footballers and still show deep, sustained concern for the men and women who secure our collective future. These values are not in opposition they strengthen each other.
If influence can amplify celebration, it can also amplify compassion. If wealth can reward joy, it can also demand justice.
This should be a national reflection.
