Good day!
And by good, I mean the kind of good that makes you laugh so you don’t cry.
The Aba sun isn’t just melting traders’ resolve these days; it appears to be melting ideas from the heads of those charged with running our darling Enyimba. Our fortunes are being fried to new and spectacular lows, and I honestly wonder what exactly is “good” about any day for the Enyimba faithful right now.
By now, you must have heard about the players’ strike yesterday. Coincidentally, I found myself at the stadium — call it a tragic pilgrimage. And what did I see? Abia Warriors training on our hallowed turf, carefree and joyful, like picnickers in a public park. Earlier, Abia Angels had just driven out as I arrived, all smiles, laughter, and noise.
And the actual owners of the venue?
The team whose name is etched on the stadium?
Our Enyimba?
Absent. Invisible. Yet somehow still managing to make headlines — only the kind that make you bury your face in your palms.
While we continue playing administrative hide-and-seek — Who is the coach? Who is in charge? Who is accountable? — a very important stakeholder has finally spoken up: the players. And credit to them, they appear to have found the courage to demand what is rightfully theirs.
Let’s be honest. Why on earth should Enyimba players be on strike over unpaid allowances? Is the government withholding funds from the club? If the whispers of gross mismanagement are getting louder, why hasn’t there been a proper audit? Identify the culprits. Name them. Shame them. Let the law do the rest.
Some say the strike was instigated. By who? And to what end? Because at this rate, the unofficial NPFL title of Most Chaotic Club is firmly within our grasp.
Who looks at a struggling team and decides the solution is to withhold match bonuses? That is not incompetence — that is a special brand of foolishness. And here’s the real kicker: rumours suggest even Barau FC paid their bonuses before their last game. Let that sink in. We are now being outdone in basic decency by clubs with a fraction of our history and resources.
Sometimes, I wonder if there’s a secret luxury package attached to life in the NNL that the rest of us don’t know about. Why else would a handful of NPFL clubs — ours included — be locked in this frantic, silent race to the bottom? Others might blame poor tactics, coaching flaws, or defensive lapses. Not us. We’ve elevated self-sabotage into an art form.
All we ask for is a pause. A halt to this circus. Let the team breathe. Pay what is owed. Fix the house. Then — and only then — focus on football. Maybe, just maybe, improvement will crawl out of the wreckage.
This was meant to be a rebound year. A reset. A revival.
Instead, we are perfecting the art of shame.
Enyimba Enyi.
