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19/07/2025

🇬🇧 The UK’s most powerful supercomputer is now live in Bristol – and will work to solve everything from healthcare to climate solutions. If you want to know how AI is set to shape our future, give this a 👍🏽, ❤️, and 🗣️ below!

UK’s Most Powerful Supercomputer Is Now Live in Bristol!
In a boon for anyone with an interest in tech, the UK’s most powerful supercomputer is now live in Bristol, and will be at the heart of important scientific research to improve lives in the future.

Dubbed Isambard-AI, the new supercomputer was officially switched on Tuesday 22 February 2025 by UK Technology Secretary Peter Kyle in Bristol.

The new computer – which the BBC reported can handle up to 35 times the amount of data its smaller predecessor could in the same amount of time – is now live in full, and the government’s plans for it, along with its sister supercomputer Dawn in Cambridge, represent a huge milestone in the government’s AI strategy.

UK’s Most Powerful Supercomputer Will Solve Healthcare, Climate Change, and More
These new machines will be central to the government’s plan to increase the amount of public AI computing in the UK, so it can be put to use finding solutions for NHS waiting lists, climate change, and more. This is great news for the UK, given the promise and huge potential of AI applications.

AI can be energy-hungry, of course, but it would be crazy to not try to use it to improve the world. The focus in Scotland and Wales is just as much on tech, with billions for each nation’s AI Growth Zones in the spending review, to drive technology development in each region.

The full use of Isambard-AI in Bristol will be a huge boost in the tech sector and beyond, as well. The supercomputer has been live in a limited capacity since the start of this year, having been commissioned to work on vaccines. The computer itself was developed by the University of Bristol, with public funding, and is already capable of incredible speeds thanks to its 5,427+ Nvidia GH200 Grace Hopper Superchips, and 11th-place ranking in the world’s 500 most powerful computers.

The UK Government is set to expand the nation’s AI Research Resource (AIRR) by 20x over the next five years, and with this, the potential for the computer to work on developing cures for diseases, boosting workplace productivity, and tackling long waiting lists in the NHS, is incredible.

Peter Kyle commented on the development, saying: “AI is coming to Britain, but we can decide what it looks like and how it helps to shape the future. Millions will be trained in AI and other cutting-edge digital skills, so we become a country that doesn’t just take from AI but makes it.”

02/07/2025

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟲: 𝗢𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗶𝗴𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗱

The satellite communication van outside the farmhouse, three kilometers away, blinked encrypted messages every 17 minutes. Methodical. Predictable.

Adaeze had been watching. She wasn’t just an astute observer; her background in mathematics had turned into an unintended survival tool. Each blink, each data packet microscopic and deliberate, was a piece of a puzzle that she was slowly unraveling, revealing more than the architects of the program intended.

“You’re mapping our comms patterns,” Emmanuel said, watching her scrawl more equations into her notebook.

Silent. Just more doodles of network flow charts.

Inspector Nwosu’s investigation had turned up the unthinkable. Project Firewall wasn’t just surveillance. It was an all-encompassing social engineering operation, capable of predicting and influencing societal behaviors on a massive scale.

Chinese technology. Nigerian government involvement. A new form of digital colonization, more insidious than any boots-on-the-ground military invasion.

Chidiebere’s proof had the power to bring down regimes.

“The algorithms can predict mass movements with 87.3% accuracy,” he told Nwosu. “They can identify potential political disruptors even before they organize.”

The farmhouse was a microcosm of the larger geopolitical chess game. Every interaction, every message, every unspoken tension was layered with multiple meanings, a reflection of the larger digital war being waged.

Adaeze had a revelation. The most dangerous weapon wasn’t a gun or a bomb. It was information.

Her imprisonment was shifting. Evolving. From prey to a very different kind of asset.

Emmanuel watched her in a dawning realization that she was unlocking their operational playbook faster than any of them had expected.

“Who are you, really?” he asked.

Smile. Dangerous. Calculated.

“I’m exactly who I need to be.”

The technological battle had found its most unlikely soldier.

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01/07/2025

Chapter 5: Algorithmic Predicament

Since Adaeze's phone was confiscated, a digital breadcrumb trail was established. Her metadata was being weaponized – location history, communication patterns, social media interactions.

Emmanuel was acutely aware of the irony. The technology intended for surveillance and control could also be repurposed as a weapon against its very architects.

"Your father's evidence consists of more than incriminating documents," he said on a rare unguarded moment, "It's a digital footprint that can dismantle an entire network."

The Chinese-Nigerian technological alliance was far more intricate than anyone had previously uncovered. Every telecommunications tower was not merely an infrastructure installation but a covert surveillance node. Each data packet routed through the network carried the potential to be weaponized.

In Abuja, nervous government officials were taking action. The potential exposure of Project Firewall threatened to undermine multi-billion-dollar agreements. International alliances were now in a precarious balance.

Chidiebere's research findings were chilling. Predictive algorithms had been developed to anticipate social movements, political dissent, even revolutionary activities before they could manifest.

"It's not just surveillance," he informed Inspector Nwosu, "It's pre-emptive social control."

The farmhouse where Adaeze was held was more than just a kidnapping site. It was a strategic communication hub, chosen for its geographical isolation and technological advantages.

Adaeze observed. Listened. Analyzed.

Her mathematical background gave her a distinct advantage. She began to map out communication patterns, analyzing the behavioral algorithms of her captors.

Emmanuel, on the other hand, took note of her calculating gaze. "You're more than just a hostage," he commented.

"I'm my father's daughter," she replied.

The true battleground was not on the ground with weapons and forces. It was in data streams, in algorithmic predictions, in the war of information.

Outside, rural Enugu concealed a technological warfare intricate and sophisticated, far surpassing traditional conflicts. Satellite communications were set up, concealed transmission points identified. A network pulsed like a digital nervous system.

Every interaction, every conversation became a carefully calculated maneuver in a high-stakes technological chess match.

Adaeze realized her kidnapping was merely the opening gambit.

The real game was about to begin. Check this page for more...but dont forget to share, like and comment.

30/06/2025

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟰: 𝗗𝗶𝗴𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄𝘀

The encrypted server room buzzed with an air of silent intensity. Rows upon rows of servers, liquid-cooled and exuding an almost sterile precision, were not merely technological marvels. They were weapons.

Project Firewall was more than a surveillance system. It was a complete takeover of the flow of information.

Chidiebere’s mind raced with the full scope of what he was learning. Chinese technology. The Nigerian government’s involvement. A complete information architecture that could be used to not only monitor but predict and control entire populations.

“They’re aiming for total information dominance,” he whispered to Inspector Nwosu, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. “It’s not just surveillance. It’s about predictive control.”

Huawei Integrated Solutions, the Chinese telecommunications giant, had not merely been given permission to build. They had their tentacles deep within the national infrastructure. Their project was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, masquerading as an infrastructure upgrade. Hidden beneath layers of technical jargon and ostensibly benign operations were the means to gather data, build profiles, and create predictive algorithms designed to anticipate, and ultimately control or neutralize, any potential social or political disruption.

Emmanuel’s past was a tapestry woven with threads of national service. A former member of military intelligence, but not of the official army. Recruited into a shadowy unit formed in the name of national protection. But in Nigeria, loyalties were never as they seemed.

Back in the farmhouse, Adaeze was beginning to understand her father’s involvement. He was more than an executive. He was someone on the inside, close enough to the truth to be a whistleblower, who had stumbled upon the full extent of the technological invasion.

“You’re a threat,” Emmanuel had said during their guarded interactions, his eyes sharp and probing. “Your father knows too much.”

The kidnapping was part of a larger message. A warning. A means of control.

Outside, the rural landscape of Enugu State belied a labyrinth of operational intricacies. Satellite communications. Hidden transmission points. A network operating with the precision and reach of a digital nervous system.

Adaeze began to see her role. She was more than just a hostage. She was leverage. The soft spot in her father’s otherwise solid wall of protection.

“What do you want?” she asked Emmanuel, meeting his gaze with a quiet defiance.

Emmanuel’s response was deliberate, controlled. “I want to stop the total technological colonization of our country.”

The stakes were greater than a simple act of kidnapping. This was about national sovereignty, technological independence, and the future of digital autonomy in an increasingly contested global arena.

Chidiebere’s telecommunications company had not just stumbled upon something. They had uncovered irrefutable proof of systematic data manipulation, algorithmic social engineering, all under the guise of infrastructure development.

Inspector Nwosu was beginning to see pieces of the puzzle, but the overall image remained shadowed.

“We’re not just fighting a criminal act,” Chidiebere confided as they worked through the night. “We’re fighting an invisible war. And the battlefield is information itself.”

To be continued tomorrow...
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29/06/2025

Chapter 3: The Network

The encrypted phone in her hand buzzed. Three short vibrations. A code.

Emmanuel moved outside the farmhouse, away from where Adaeze could hear. The call connected.

"Status?" A gravelly voice. Military cadence.

"Package secured. No complications." Emmanuel spoke with military precision.

There was nothing to do with ransom. Adaeze was a pawn in a much bigger game.

Across Enugu, many networks were triggered simultaneously. Government operatives. Corporate agents. Former military intelligence. A symphony of precision and synchronization.

Chidiebere understood one simple truth: information was the most valuable currency in Nigeria. He had a piece of information that could destabilize entire networks.

The telecommunications project was a façade. It was a means to access something far more sinister - a digital surveillance network that could monitor and manipulate entire populations.

Chinese investment. Nigerian government complicity. Corporate espionage.

Adaeze overheard snippets. Emmanuel's phone calls. Cryptic conversations. Mentions of "Project Firewall" - something far more sinister than a typical telecommunications development project.

Her father was not just a telecommunications executive. He was a potential whistleblower.

"Who are you, really?" she confronted Emmanuel during a moment of vulnerability.

He hesitated. "Just a man trying to protect something greater than myself."

The farmhouse was not a coincidence. It was a strategic checkpoint in an intricate network of safe houses and communication nodes.

Inspector Nwosu knew some pieces of the puzzle. But not the full picture. Every revelation led to more questions.

Outside, the dark sky rumbled. Lightning struck, illuminating the rural landscape. Shadows of movement. Vehicles. Men with sophisticated communication devices.

This was not a kidnapping. This was a meticulously planned operation to control information.

Adaeze understood that she was at the epicenter of a storm that could change Nigeria's technological and political landscape forever.

Survival meant understanding the complex web of power, secrets, and technological manipulation that had ensnared her into this dangerous game.

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28/06/2025

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮: 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗣𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿

The room was sparsely furnished. A single fluorescent bulb buzzed overhead, its sickly light illuminating Chidiebere's gaunt features. He sat across from two men in sharp government suits.

Inspector Marcus Nwosu leaned forward, his voice a low growl. "Mr. Okeke, your daughter's life is at stake right now. Please, talk."

Chidiebere swallowed, his hands trembling. Not with fear, but with something else. Something more calculating.

"The Telecom project," he croaked. "It wasn't just about the infrastructure."

Outside, the rain hammered against the glass facade of the Enugu police headquarters. Each drop carried with it the weight of a thousand unspoken secrets.

In the dim light of the abandoned farmhouse where Adaeze had been held, her captors moved with practiced military precision. But she'd been paying attention to details. Shift changes every four hours, specific radio frequencies for communication, high-tech equipment that didn't belong to ordinary criminals.

One of the men, younger and leaner than the rest, had occasionally stolen glances at her that hinted at something more than simple curiosity. Emmanuel – she'd heard the others call him that. Mid-twenties, sharp features, a military background, probably special forces.

"Water," she said softly.

Emmanuel approached, a plastic bottle of water in hand. Their eyes met. In that moment, something flickered between them. Recognition? Uncertainty?

"You're not just thieves," Adaeze said. Not a question, more of an observation.

He said nothing, but his hand shook slightly as he extended the bottle towards her.

Back at the police station, Inspector Nwosu was spreading documents across a table, scattering the pieces of a very dangerous puzzle. Telecom contracts, government bids, offshore accounts.

"You discovered something," Nwosu was insinuating. "Something that made certain people very uncomfortable."

Chidiebere laughed harshly. "Discover? We were merely the messenger. The real story, it goes much, much deeper."

The document detailed a partial overview of a massive infrastructure project. Chinese investors. Nigerian government contracts. But beneath the surface of the glossy paper, something more sinister lurked, something that smelled very, very dangerous.

In the farmhouse, Adaeze realized her abduction wasn't a simple case of money and ransom. It was a message. A message about silencing something much, much larger.

Emmanuel returned with her meal. Tasteless rice and bottled water.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she demanded.

For the first time, he spoke. "Some wars are fought far away from the front lines, Ada. Your father, he understands that more than most of us."

The puzzle pieces were starting to come together. But the bigger picture was still out of reach.

Night fell. The game had only just begun!
Do you care to share, like and comment about this super story😜

27/06/2025

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻 𝗣𝗮𝘁𝗵

The red Enugu country dust billowed from the tailpipe of the white Toyota SUV as it shot down a backcountry road. Chidiebere Okeke gripped the wheel, knuckles white, eyes shifting from the rearview mirror to the vacant space in front.

His daughter, Adaeze, sixteen, sat mutely in the passenger seat. Her school uniform was neat, her skirt tucked neatly inside the boots she was allowed to wear on Fridays. But she was nervous, and her father could see it.

Something was not right.

“Papa, where are we going?” Her voice shook.

Chidiebere said nothing.

Two motorcycles skidded into view around the corner of a side road, dust clouds from the sudden braking hanging in the air behind them. Black helmets. Black riding gear. Professional. Prudent.

“Get down!” Chidiebere yelled, too late.

Gunshots raked the SUV, windows shattering against the tempered glass and inward explosions. Adaeze screamed.

The first biker swung up to the driver’s side, gloved hand snaking out with some metallic object glinting in the sun.

Seconds. Everything changed.

It had been three hours since Adaeze Okeke had been a regular secondary school student in the last class of the day at St. Regina’s Girls Academy. Life had been routine, all mathematics homework and Nzekwelu gossip, dreams of medicine and university in Lagos and nothing more. Now, zip-tied and blindfolded, she could barely stand as she sat on the concrete floor of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. The smell of wet concrete and diesel filled her nostrils as she waited, breathing heavily, heart racing.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked, masking her fear with as much bravado as she could.

Silence.

Her father had told her not to be foolish. But this wasn’t how she thought it would happen. If it was a kidnapping, it had to have been planned and prepared for days before this.

Chidiebere Okeke worked in the middle management of one of the biggest telecommunications companies in Port Harcourt. He was a very busy man, and he carried around a lot of secrets. Secrets of powerful people.

The figure loomed over her now, and her captor spoke in a neutral tone, as though checking boxes on some cold task list.

“Your father is well aware as to why you are here.”

Kidnappings were common in southeastern Nigeria. Politicians. Businessmen. The daily tributes paid to idle teenagers on their way home from school. But this wasn’t just another kidnapping. This was organized. This was precise.

The voices she could hear were Igbo, but a particular dialect from which she couldn’t place. Locals, then, but more likely the premeditated work of professionals rather than pickpocket ruffians.

Time passed. The fabric of her school uniform became wet with sweat. Fear turned slowly to something else. Cold, slow calculation.

The sounds outside her makeshift prison indicated generators, some distance away. Outside. Rural, probably within a 50-kilometer radius of Enugu city.

The good life she’d known in this life of primary school friends and soccer was over. Chidiebere was coming. The Nigerian Police were coming. This country, this side of the country, was only as organized as the last man’s pocket.

Nighttime set in. It got cold. She heard multiple conversations, at least four distinguishable male voices, punctuated by periods of disciplinary silence. They were professionals.

This was not a question of motive, or even desire. This was about a message.

Her phone rang at midnight, crisp and professional Igbo syllables. Negotiations were about to start.

The ransoms would be high. For some, a game. For some, this was more.

Chidiebere Okeke knew. And silence would become his daughter’s greatest enemy.

Dark thoughts fell across Adaeze Okeke’s mind in that shadowy warehouse room.

Her tale was only just beginning. Share, like and comment for more episodes.

25/06/2025

𝗔𝗜, 𝗖𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗮𝘄: 𝗔 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗥𝘂𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴

A US judge ruled that training AI software using books is *not* a breach of US copyright law — but it’s not the final verdict!

The case was filed against AI startup Anthropic by three authors, including best-selling author of mystery thrillers Andrea Bartz. The authors claimed that the company “stole” their books to train its Claude AI model.

Judge William Alsup said that Anthropic’s use of the books in question is “exceedingly transformative”, as he compared AI training to a reader learning to write — but not to copy. However, the judge also said that the case will proceed to trial, as Anthropic had allegedly used pirated copies of books in its “central library” of over 7 million books.

Anthropic is backed by Amazon and Alphabet (parent company of Google), and could face penalties of up to $150,000 per copyrighted work.

This is one of the first cases that grapple with a huge question in the AI industry: **Can Large Language Models (LLMs) learn from existing material? **

Who are the Authors?

- Andrea Bartz : *We Were Never Here* , *The Last Ferry Out*
- Charles Graeber : *The Good Nurse*
- Kirk Wallace Johnson : *The Feather Thief*

Judge Alsup also highlighted that the authors never claimed that their books were being used as a reference to produce knockoff material or similar. If so, the judge noted, “this would be a different case.”

Separately, the AI industry is grappling with similar lawsuits over its use of other forms of media, from music to journalism. The likes of Disney and Universal have also joined the legal battle, while some AI companies are signing licensing deals with publishers and content creators to circumvent such problems.

What do you think?

- Can AI companies be allowed to use copyrighted material for training?
- Do these “transformative uses” of copyrighted material count as being fair to creators?

Join the discussion!

Like, share and comment below with your thoughts on this complex and developing debate.

24/06/2025

𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮 𝘁𝗼 𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗸𝗲𝘆: 𝗙𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗢𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗶’𝘀 𝗔𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗦𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗦𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗙𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 – 𝗔 𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗨𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺

One of Nigeria’s most promising young sprinters, Favour Ofili, is set to officially join the Turkish team from Nigeria as of May 31, 2025, months before the Tokyo 2025 World Athletics Championship, after being let down for years by Nigerian athletics authorities who’ve botched countless opportunities for her. Ofili’s decision to make the switch represents a deeper examination of the problems that have repeatedly hindered the advancement of athletes in the country and suggests the measures that can be taken to prevent future losses.

A Troubled Journey To World Class Talent
22-year-old Olympian and LSU graduate Favour Ofili has made a name for herself in the sprinting circuit with her prowess in the 100m, 200m, and 4x100m events. She’s also recorded the fastest ever time for women in the 150m and maintains personal bests that suggest she’s a medal threat in any international competition. But it hasn’t been a seamless journey for her. Ofili, a rising star in the sport, was one of 14 Nigerian athletes who missed out on the 2020 Tokyo Olympics due to their failure to conduct mandatory pre-Games drug testing for athletes based in the U.S. Four years later, the AFN and NOC’s failure to do the same at the Paris 2024 Games left her off the country’s entry list for the 100m race, although she’d already qualified for the event. In a post on Instagram, Ofili was frank about her frustration, writing, “I qualified, but those with the AFN and NOC failed to put my name down. I have been working hard for 4 years to get this opportunity. For what?”

Despite her top-10 finish in the 200m, she burst into tears at the end of the race and said, “You feel like your career is done, especially when it’s been in a continuous state of development.” She won her first major championship last year in the 60m at the NCAA indoor meet, a race she would not have been eligible to compete in if she hadn’t switched nationalities, an option she reportedly contemplated prior to her 2024 season. She will be eligible to compete in Tokyo in August.

These experiences, coupled with the nonchalant attitude of the Nigerian sports officials towards them, have reportedly convinced her to officially switch nationalities to Turkey. According to reports, Ofili sent the Athletics Integrity Unit (AIU) of World Athletics a letter notifying them of her decision, citing her “growing frustration” with the authorities. But according to sources, the switch wasn’t driven by a desire to make more money but instead an expression of the level of dissatisfaction she had with the handling of the sport in Nigeria.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗦𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗙𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗜𝗻 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀
Ofili’s decision to represent another country reveals a larger problem that has plagued Nigerian sports for years. Here are some of the issues that contributed to her problems:

𝗔𝗱𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗘𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝘀: The Athletic Federation of Nigeria (AFN) and Nigeria Olympic Committee (NOC) have routinely failed to meet the minimum requirements for participation in international competitions, including registering athletes and adhering to World Athletics regulations on pre-Games drug testing. As a result, athletes like Ofili lost opportunities to compete at the Olympics and other global events.

𝗟𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆: In spite of the series of cases that plagued Nigerian sports, there has been little or no repercussions for the responsible parties, allowing the status quo to continue, as in the case of the AFN and NOC, which have repeatedly proven themselves unprepared for even basic administrative duties.

𝗣𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘀: Sports Federations in Nigeria are headed by politicians instead of the most qualified professionals, a lack of qualified individuals in leadership positions has cost the nation more than a handful of opportunities, the NOC’s statement on the case of Ofili reiterated that political pressure was a major factor in the botched participation in Paris.

𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲: The government has been neglectful in financing and constructing state-of-the-art sports infrastructure, leaving facilities that are often non-functional and many young athletes underdeveloped.

𝗡𝗲𝗴𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲𝘀: The Athletics programs that traditionally groomed young athletes into stars are gone, resulting in a weak and unorganized pool of athletes who are often left on their own.

The Causes, which Nigeria has seen the effects of for decades, caused the country’s dismal showing at the Paris 2024 Games, in which Nigeria did not medal for the first time in over a decade.

How to Save Nigeria’s Floundering Sports Industry
If Nigerian sports is to recover from its recent decline, these reasons need to be addressed by the government, sports federations, and sports stakeholders at the grassroots level. Here are some of the steps that could help save the industry:

𝗜𝗻𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆: Perform audits on the sports federations to identify administrative errors and uncover misappropriation of funds. The consequences of such mistakes must be harsh, including the suspension or removal of officials, to create a new paradigm.

𝗗𝗲-𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘇𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: The Sports Federations must be autonomous, free from the heavy-handed control of politicians and independent of their patronage. Leadership must be appointed based on their qualifications and experience rather than politics, so that leadership can plan effectively and the nation can have sustainable programs for its athletes.

𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁: The government must take responsibility for the athletes’ development, providing support for their well-being, offering training, and building world-class facilities to keep athletes engaged and to compete on the world stage.

𝗥𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗿𝗼𝗼𝘁𝘀: Provide structured sports competitions and opportunities for young athletes to be scouted and developed at all ages. This would make it easier for young people to be active in sports, even in school and their communities.

𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗟𝗲𝗴𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: Strong legislation that protects athletes and gives them the autonomy they deserve. New legislation should include protection for their welfare, provide fair conditions, and fair hearings.

𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗲𝗰𝗵𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗹 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Improve the knowledge of athletes, coaches, and technical personnel in various sports. This includes improving their knowledge and bringing them up to speed with international standards.

𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻’𝘀 𝗣𝗹𝗮𝗻: The government must support the National Sports Commission’s (NSC) plans for the transformation of sports in Nigeria. This would include support for the “Reset, Refocus, Relaunch” program, the National Sports Industry Policy (NSIP), and other strategies to rebuild sports as an economic powerhouse.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗖𝗮𝗻 𝗕𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗧𝗼 𝗞𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮’𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗕𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗦𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗢𝗳𝗳?
Nigeria is on the brink of losing another star, potentially the latest in a long line of stars that have left the country for good. Her decision to move to Turkey is not just a loss for the country but also an eye-opening experience of the problems that led to the failure to send her to the Olympics and will serve as a sign that the system is broken and is in need of a total overhaul. It will not be easy for the Nigerian Sports Federation to stop the slide and keep its talent. With so many athletes waiting to make the leap to a new country, there needs to be a shift in the way that things are done, starting with the NSC’s plans to turn around the industry, but only if it sticks to its plan. Otherwise, Nigeria will continue to lose its chance to compete in sports.

Join the Conversation: Share, Like, and Comment!
Favour Ofili’s decision to represent Turkey is a wake-up call for Nigerian sports. What are your thoughts on this development? Do you think Nigeria can turn things around to retain its brightest talents, or are we at risk of losing more athletes to other nations? I did love to hear your opinions! Please share this article with your friends and family to spread the word, like this post to show your support for reform, and drop a comment below with your views on how Nigeria can rebuild its sporting future. Let’s start a meaningful discussion together!

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