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Close to midnight, I sat before my computer, reading and reflecting on the troubling atmosphere surrounding Uganda’s Parliament. Images and videos were circulating of bundles of money allegedly linked to corruption—sums so vast that, at first glance, they appeared capable of clearing a significant portion of Uganda’s national debt. As I wrestled with the implications of such excess amidst widespread poverty, a sudden roar shattered the silence outside. Voices erupted like thunder. Vuvuzelas blared. Whistles pierced the air. Sauce pans were struck with celebratory fury. The neighborhood had become a carnival.
Curious, I stepped outside. “Arsenal! Arsenal!” the voices cried.
I quickly checked my phone and discovered that Manchester City had lost, and by that result Arsenal were crowned champions.
And then a troubling question seized my mind:
What exactly does Uganda gain when a European club wins a trophy?
The Celebration of Other People's Wealth
When Arsenal lift a trophy, the beneficiaries are in London. Their owners become richer. Their sponsors sell more products. Their broadcasters earn billions. Their players receive bonuses.
But what do the ecstatic youths of Kampala, Gulu, Mbale, and Mbarara receive?
Nothing.
No dividend. No scholarship. No hospital. No road. No job.
The trophy remains in Europe. The money remains in Europe. The economic benefits remain in Europe.
Ugandans are left with only fleeting excitement and a profound illusion of participation.
Hard Questions Every Ugandan Must Answer
How many Ugandans are in the first eleven of Arsenal?
How many Ugandans are employed by European football clubs?
How much tax revenue does Uganda earn when Manchester United wins a match?
How many factories are built in Uganda because Chelsea qualify for the Champions League?
How many hospitals are stocked because Liverpool lift a cup?
How many jobs are created in Kasese, Arua, or Soroti when European clubs sign multimillion-dollar sponsorship deals?
And perhaps the most uncomfortable question of all:
If these victories change nothing in our material conditions, why do we celebrate as though they are our own?
Colonialism Never Truly Ended
The Union Jack was lowered on 9 October 1962, and Uganda became politically independent from the United Kingdom.
But political independence does not necessarily mean mental emancipation.
Colonialism survives whenever a people are conditioned to admire foreign achievements while neglecting their own institutions, talents, and possibilities.
The colonial project taught Africans that greatness resides elsewhere:
In European capitals;
In foreign universities;
In imported goods;
In white-owned institutions;
In competitions from which Africans are largely excluded.
This conditioning remains deeply entrenched.
Many Ugandans can recite the starting lineup of Arsenal, but cannot name the first eleven of the Uganda Cranes.
They know transfer fees in pounds sterling, but not the budget of their district hospital.
They know stadium capacities in Europe, but not the names of their local council representatives.
The Geography of Colonial Loyalty
Patterns of football allegiance across Africa often mirror colonial history.
In Uganda, Kenya, Nigeria, and Ghana, the English Premier League dominates because of British colonial influence and the enduring dominance of the English language.
In Senegal, Mali, and Ivory Coast, many fans closely follow French football, reflecting historical ties to France.
In Mozambique and Angola, Portuguese clubs enjoy significant support due to their colonial past under Portugal.
Colonialism shaped not only borders and languages, but also our emotional attachments.
Betting: The New Machinery of Extraction
European football is no longer merely entertainment. It has become a highly effective mechanism for extracting money from poor populations.
Across Uganda, betting shops and mobile gambling platforms thrive in communities where unemployment and economic despair are widespread.
Young people stake school fees, rent, food money, and business capital on outcomes they do not control.
When they lose, European companies, betting operators, and tax authorities profit.
When they win, the payouts are usually small compared to the aggregate losses of the many.
The structure is simple:
African passion;
African money;
European spectacle;
Foreign profit.
Death, Violence, and Broken Homes
Football obsession and betting have produced devastating social consequences.
Across Africa, there have been reports of:
Suicide and severe emotional distress after heavy betting losses;
Domestic violence triggered by gambling debts;
Theft and fraud to recover lost money;
Street fights between rival supporters;
School dropouts;
Family breakdown.
In Uganda, countless households have seen savings disappear into betting slips.
Motorcycles have been sold. Tuition has gone unpaid. Businesses have collapsed. Dreams have been mortgaged to chance. And all for games played thousands of miles away.
Neglect of African Football
While European clubs enjoy unwavering devotion, many local stadiums decay.
The Uganda Cranes struggle for consistent support and investment.
Domestic clubs attract only a fraction of the enthusiasm reserved for foreign teams.
Imagine if the same energy that fills bars at midnight were invested in:
Local leagues;
Youth academies;
Community stadiums;
Sports science;
Coaching development.
Uganda could become a producer of football wealth rather than a consumer of football fantasies.
Psychological Colonization
The most enduring form of domination is not territorial occupation but control over imagination.
A mentally colonized people celebrate external success while remaining indifferent to their own stagnation.
They become spectators in a world economy where others perform, profit, and progress.
They shout with joy for trophies they will never touch.
They defend clubs that do not know they exist.
They fight neighbors over colors and badges owned by foreign billionaires.
They inherit emotion, but no ownership.
The Economics of Illusion
European football generates billions of dollars annually through broadcasting, merchandising, sponsorship, and digital engagement.
African audiences are a vital component of this global market.
Our viewership increases television rights. Our betting funds gambling ecosystems. Our social media activity amplifies global brands. Our consumption enriches multinational corporations.
Yet our schools remain underfunded. Our hospitals lack medicine. Our roads deteriorate. Our youth remain unemployed.
The wealth circulates elsewhere.
Time for Mental Liberation
There is nothing wrong with enjoying football.
Sport can unite, inspire, and entertain.
The danger begins when admiration turns into dependency, when spectatorship replaces productivity, and when borrowed victories are mistaken for national achievement.
Africa must learn to appreciate global sport without surrendering its economic resources, emotional energy, and intellectual independence.
We must invest in our own athletes, leagues, institutions, and industries.
We must support our own stories.
We must reclaim our own pride.
Final Questions to Ugandans and Africans
When Arsenal win, does your salary increase?
When Manchester United lose, does corruption decline?
When European clubs sign billion-dollar sponsorships, does your village receive clean water?
When you spend sleepless nights celebrating foreign triumphs, what tangible change occurs in your life?
When you stake your last shilling on a match in London, who truly wins?
And if your passion enriches others while your own society remains underdeveloped—
Where exactly is your gain? Where exactly is your pride?
About the Writer
Evan Sande Ndahura is a Ugandan political and legal commentator, columnist, poet, and social justice advocate whose writings focus on governance, constitutionalism, democracy, and the political economy of power in Africa. He is widely published on issues of judicial accountability, electoral justice, human rights, and institutional reform, with a particular emphasis on Uganda’s political and legal systems. Ndahura writes from a Pan-African critical perspective, interrogating the failures of state institutions and the lived realities of ordinary citizens under entrenched systems of power. He believes that the liberation of Africa will occur through a mighty pen, not the gun.
