Attending major sports events has become almost a routine for me and my family. It is something I intentionally prioritise—especially for my son. I want him to grow up seeing sport not merely as entertainment, but as culture, identity, discipline, and possibility. From stadiums buzzing with anticipation to late-night post-match debates in unfamiliar cities, sport has a unique way of teaching belonging. That belief followed me to Morocco, where I spent four weeks ...simply experiencing the Africa Cup of Nations 2025. It was a tournament that offered far more than football. It offered lessons on identity, infrastructure, pride, contradiction, and the unfinished work of African football administration. Midnight in Rabat: Football after the final whistle It is just past midnight in Rabat. The capital has largely gone quiet, but not everywhere. A few Moroccan fans—still wrestling with the heartbreak and drama of the final—refuse to sleep. The echoes of the night linger: the towel saga, Senegal’s walk-off, controversial calls by a Congolese match official, and even blows exchanged in the stands. The tension has eased, but not disappeared. I find myself in a small pub, a stone’s throw from my apartment. I am the only black person in the room. At the bar counter, I sit beside two senior men in their mid-50s, their faces worn by disappointment and softened by a few rounds of drinks. One turns to me. “Are you from Senegal?” For a brief second, I almost wish I were. But I smile and respond, “No. I’m from Rwanda.” His face lights up. He introduces himself as Dr. Khalil, an official from Morocco’s Ministry of Trade. What follows is a conversation I did not expect—but one I will not forget. A Conversation about Rwanda—and Africa Dr Khalil tells me he works with Morocco’s Ministry of Trade and was a lead negotiator for the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA). He speaks candidly, proudly. Among the many African countries he works with, he says Rwanda, Ghana, Tunisia, Ethiopia, and Egypt make his job easier. But Rwanda, he says, stands out. “Your president’s stance on intra-African trade makes our work easier,” he says. President Paul Kagame’s stance on intra-African trade and integration, he tells me, is “encouraging”—even inspiring. I had initially assumed his excitement was because Kagame was in the stands for the final. That alone made me proud, despite Amavubi not qualifying for this AFCON. In that moment, AFCON stopped being just a football tournament. It became a reminder that national reputation is built far beyond the pitch. Rwanda’s consistency, clarity, and ambition now speak in rooms where trade, policy, and Africa’s future are shaped. But this was deeper. This was about perception. Morocco, too, seems to be redefining its place. Long positioned as Africa’s neighbor to Europe, the Kingdom appears to have fully embraced its African identity—confidently African, geographically close to Europe, but no longer confused about where it belongs. That conversation, over drinks after a chaotic final, captured what AFCON does best: it creates unexpected moments of continental recognition. Security: Feeling at home, far from home One of the most striking aspects of my stay in Morocco was security. Top. Top stuff. Two stadiums were between three and five kilometres from my apartment. After matches, I often walked alone from the stadium back home in the middle of the night. Not once did I feel unsafe. Not once did I feel watched or threatened. It felt familiar. It felt like home. For a tournament that drew tens of thousands across vast distances—from Agadir in the south to Tangier in the north—that sense of safety matters. It allows fans to enjoy football freely, without fear overshadowing celebration. Infrastructure: Morocco sets the benchmark Give Morocco all the flowers. From experience—having followed AFCON closely on TV since 2002 as a young boy dreaming of being Patrick Mboma, El Hadji Diouf or Henri Camara—this was elite hosting. Ivory Coast in 2023 brought unmatched passion and numbers. Morocco brought class. The infrastructure was exceptional. Stadiums were world-class. Roads, airports, and rail networks functioned seamlessly. The ONCF high-speed train deserves special mention. I travelled from Rabat to Tangier—245 kilometres—in just one hour and twenty minutes to watch a quarter-final between Senegal and Mali. Kick-off was at 5pm. Hypothetically, I could have watched another match back in Rabat at 10pm the same night. That is the standard. From Agadir to Tangier, Morocco showed Africa what serious tournament hosting looks like. Pitches, Football, and the non-negotiables of 2027 Players, pundits, and fans all agreed: the pitches were immaculate. A+ across the board. The quality of football at AFCON 2025—arguably the highest yet—was made possible by those surfaces. This matters. Talent alone is not enough. World-class football requires world-class conditions. So let me say this clearly, Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania, Africa will not accept lower standards in 2027. If you are unsure how to reach these benchmarks, speak to Morocco. Brotherly advice costs nothing. AFCON is our shared heritage. We have a duty to protect it, not dilute it. People, transport, and African connectivity Moroccans were warm, welcoming, and proud hosts. Cab drivers, volunteers, and locals opened doors—literally and figuratively—to the continent. Transport worked. And that is not a small thing. Without strong intra-African connectivity—rail, air, road—development will remain fragmented. AFCON reminded us that integration is not theoretical. It is logistical. Where AFCON fell short: Officiating Now, to what did not go well. Forget one referee. The issue was systemic. French legend Thierry Henry said it plainly in his post-final analysis: while AFCON has grown in quality and stature, officiating has not kept pace. Refereeing standards were poor—nowhere near what we saw in Ivory Coast, where VAR use set a global benchmark and even earned praise from Europe. CAF must fix this. The refereeing department needs independent, competent leadership—people with ethics strong enough to resist political pressure. We cannot reach a point where voices like Jamie Carragher suggest importing European referees. AFCON is African. Our officiating must grow with our football. And let me be clear...accusations that Morocco influenced referees are misguided. Responsibility for officiating lies solely with CAF. Visas and the media: An avoidable struggle One final issue is visas. Journalists struggled. Some suffered unnecessarily. A CAF accreditation letter should serve as visa-on-arrival for all CAF tournaments—AFCON, WAFCON (Women’s Africa Cup of Nations), and beyond. This has been done before. It should not be debated. Journalists amplify your story. Make it easier for them to tell it. As someone who has attended AFCONs and the World Cup, I believe my view carries some weight. Football did not go Morocco’s way. Neither did the unnecessary “towel scuffle”—one I hope we can overlook. Hosting, however, did. And if this is the rehearsal—just imagine 2030, when Morocco co-hosts the World Cup with Spain and Portugal. Africa will be watching. So here it is, see you in East Africa in 2027. Expect vibes. Book your hotel in Kigali and commute to Tanzania, Uganda, and Kenya. I trust RwandAir will make fares accessible—just as Europeans paid as little as €80 to fly to Morocco. Ironically, I had to fly out of Africa via Istanbul to return to Africa and reach Morocco. That alone explains why Dr Khalil is optimistic about AfCFTA. The writer is a sports enthusiast.
