The important history of Nigeria and South Africa’s relationship in African football
It's not a rivalry but there's some depth to explore
Last night, Nigeria’s Men’s National football team, the Super Eagles, defeated South Africa’s Bafana Bafana in the semi-finals of the ongoing African Cup of Nations (AFCON). After 90 minutes of regulation time and 30 minutes of extra time, the teams were deadlocked at a goal apiece, both scored from the penalty spot, which made it fitting for the knockout match to be determined through penalty shootouts.
Nigerian goalkeeper Stanley Nwabali, who plays his club football in the South African Premier League with Chippa United, saved two penalty kicks enroute to being named the Man of the Match. Striker Kelechi Iheanacho buried the deciding penalty kick off the inside of the post, sending the Super Eagles into the final of this year’s AFCON, a feat that was last achieved eleven years ago, which is also the last time Nigeria won the top continental prize in national team football. (In Sunday’s final, they will face the host country’s team, the Elephants of Cote d’Ivoire, who also qualified last night after a lone goal win over Congo.)
This marks the third straight time Nigeria has defeated South Africa in the knockout stage at AFCON. Back in 2000, Nigerian football legend Tijani Babangida scored two goals against Bafana Bafana in the semi-final, a clean sheet win which sent Nigeria into that year’s AFCON final match. 24 years later, although on the much dicier terms of a penalty shootout, Nigeria’s latest win exemplifies how its male football team has edged South Africa’s over the decades. In 15 recorded meetings since 1992, Nigeria has won eight times, South Africa has won just twice, and both sides have drawn five matches.
In October ’92, the Super Eagles scored four unanswered goals against Bafana Bafana at the National Stadium in Surulere. The match was a continental group stage qualifier for the FIFA World Cup, USA ’94, which Nigeria easily qualified for as top of its group. The return fixture in January ’93, at Johannesburg’s Soccer City, was a goalless draw. For the rest of the ‘90s, both teams didn’t face each other, more for political than footballing reasons.
In 1996, South Africa hosted AFCON, two years after Nigeria had won the tournament in Tunisia. As title holders, the Super Eagles were due to defend their award at AFCON ’96, but the country pulled out at the directive of its then dictator Sani Abacha. The marquee event was the execution by hanging of nine Nigerian activists in November 1995, to the horror of Nigerians and loud criticisms of the international community.
Led by author Ken Saro-Wiwa, the nine were members of the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP), an organisation campaigning against environmental degradation in Ogoni land, due to the crude oil mining operations in the region. Saro-Wiwa, who was president of MOSOP at the time, was vocally critical of the Nigerian government, at a time when political dissent was met with brute force by a brutal authoritarian. The nine activists were arrested for allegedly orchestrating the murder of several Ogoni chiefs, and were sentenced to death upon trial by a special military tribunal.
To many observers, the charges were trumped up as a way for Abacha to get rid of these critics and also send a message to any opposing figures. In response to their execution, Nigerian was banned from the Commonwealth of Nations for over three years, and many countries were loud in their disapproval, none more than South Africa. In the documentary, ‘Super Eagles ‘96’, several players shared their disappointment at not playing in AFCON ‘96, with Emmanuel Ammunike stating that football didn’t need to mix with politics, especially since the sport was a bright spot for Nigerians who were reeling under despotic rule.
Boasting of one of the most complete squads in Africa at the time, and also widely regarded as the golden generation of Nigerian football, the Super Eagles were the favourites going into AFCON ‘96. For post-apartheid South Africa, Bafana Bafana was a rising force in African football, and in their path to winning the Nation’s Cup, they could’ve faced Nigeria during the knockout round.
In the 2000s, the football history between Nigeria and South African has been extensive so far, with matches whose results have been consequential. At the 2004 edition of AFCON, the Super Eagles beat Bafana Bafana 4-0 in a group stage that played a key role in South Africa not qualifying the competition’s knockout stage. (That match was also notable for introducing forward Osaze Odemwingie to Nigerians, as he scored two goals off the bench in that match.) Four years later, the Super Eagles stopped South Africa from participating at AFCON 2010, handing them two clean sheet losses during the qualification group stage.
In 2014, Bafana Bafana repaid the favour, forcing two draws against Nigeria during the qualifiers, while three of their four other matches to emerge as one of the two countries—alongside second-placed Congo—to play in Equatorial Guinea for the competition proper. For AFCON 2019, both countries were drawn in the same qualifying group again, but they both qualified to the main competition this time, with Bafana Bafana winning the fixture in Nigeria and holding the Super Eagles to a draw at home. During AFCON 2019 proper, though, Nigeria eliminated South Africa in the quarter-final phase, ending a 5-match winless run against Bafana Bafana.
As the most important football match both countries had played against each other in the hyper-connected era of social media, the 2019 match resulted in vitriolic banter being exchanged, primarily on X (fka Twitter), between citizens of both countries. Often, football banter is loaded with witty insults, but the exchange after that Nigerian win became particularly toxic. Playing a central role was the late rapper AKA, who shared several tweets about his deep annoyance at losing to Nigeria.
Also embedded in that conversation was South Africa’s history of xenophobia towards African migrants, of which several Nigerians had been victims of xenophobic attacks. For decades, South Africa has been dealing with high poverty rates, stemming from the brutal inequality of apartheid, as well as the constant mismanagement and deep corruption practices of post-apartheid governments. That has led to no lasting, tangible solution to high unemployment rates, with many imbibing nationalist ethos and blaming prospering immigrants for taking jobs that they think should be reserved by locals.
It’s a hard pill to swallow man. We keep on losing to Nigeria in every way.
— AKA (@akaworldwide) July 10, 2019
None of those sentiments are new, and it’s even a key part of Nigerian history. (For the oblivious, find out the history of those hugely popular ‘Ghana Must Go’ bags.) In South Africa, though, its effects have gone beyond mere sentiments into injurious acts. As recent as Operation Dudula in 2022 and the heart-breaking events of 2019, just two months after that quarter-final match, African migrants in South Africa have been greeted by xenophobic attacks on a frequent basis.
Generally, Nigeria and South Africa have a complex, long relationship. Nigeria was an ally during the fight to end apartheid, and it made sense that the South African government would stand with the Nigerian citizenry in opposition to the autocratic Abacha. Currently, citizens of both countries are being led by governments that continue to plumb new depths of economic lows, largely due to rampant, endemic corruption and questionable monetary and fiscal policies. Nigerians don’t have electricity? Well, load shedding isn’t paradise for South Africans.
Possibly the most relevant one for young Nigerians is music. Nigerian artists and South African artists have collaborated over the past decade to great results, from AKA and Burna Boy to Davido and Focalistic. These days, the conduit is Amapiano—albeit controversially. For The NATIVE, there’s no need to rehash our stance: Nigeria cannot and should not be aiming to own Amapiano. In the aftermath of last night’s win, the banter flowed and the primary narrative is that Nigeria owns the genre now. It’s easy to say that it’s all jokes, but at the expense of being called a killjoy, jokes can go too far—especially when you consider Nigeria’s cultural dominance as far as dictating the narrative within African music.
Nah. This is the height
Nigeria | Nwabali | Tyla | Amapiano | AFCON2024 | Generator Republic | South Africa pic.twitter.com/qpk8LvwrUx
— Frankline Ntah (@franklinentah) February 7, 2024
Even before last night’s match, there was a viral video circulating X (fka Twitter) where several Nigerians supporting the Super Eagles in Cote d’Ivoire were blatant in stating that Nigeria is responsible for the growth of Amapiano. With how much Nigerians view its music through the “Afrobeats to the World” lens, and very little regards to local and pan-African narratives, those assertions aren’t shocking. These sentiments are only going to get bolder, which would increase animosity. Describe it as arrogance or the need to dominate or whatever else, the loudness of Nigerians is integral to its relationship with South Africans, and just like the music, football will always be a rallying point to exchange words.
It doesn’t feel appropriate to deem the Super Eagles and Bafana Bafana as rivals. For the former, two wins in 15 matches—one in a friendly and one in AFCON qualifying—means it’s playing catch-up from afar, a distance that just got wider with yesterday’s loss. Amidst all of the celebration (for Nigerians) and ruing (for South Africans), it feels relevant to acknowledge how connected both countries are where the round leather game is concerned. It’s not a rivalry, but the history is important.
ICYMI: ASAKE, DJ MAPHORISA & NIGERIA’S QUEST TO ADOPT AMAPIANO
NATIVE PREMIERE: Rigo Kamp Runs Ahead Of The Pack With The Visuals For “Marathon”
Rigo Kamp’s Marathon video is an intimate Afro-juju revival that pays homage to Sir Shina Peters and stamps...
Last Friday, Rigo Kamp, a NATIVE uNder alum and one of the architects of an equal parts nostalgic and refreshing sound released his self-titled debut EP, delivering a propulsive fusion of Alte, R&B, Funk, and Soul-infused rhythms.
Featuring previously released singles “Morning Sun” and “Summer”, the six-track eponymous EP executively produced by Odunsi The Engine sees Rigo lean heavily into his element as a sonic alchemist, jumping from silky falsettos to gritty grooves without losing an ounce of cohesion, and ultimately stamping the Abuja-born, Lagos-based singer-songwriter as a mad scientist of sound.
Just last November, Apple Music named Rigo Kamp as its Up Next artist, an acknowledgment that underscored his potential and confirmed what the tastemakers and underground scene already knew. Weeks later, he delivered an exhilarating live set for Spotify Fresh Finds in Lagos, proving he’s just as compelling live as he is in the studio.
On “Marathon”, the refreshing opener to the Rigo Kamp EP, Rigo borrows the bounce and swagger of Afro-Juju legend, Sir Shina Peters’ golden-era, fusing nostalgia with re-imagination to birth a vintage performance that feels like a private party for two, where it’s just Rigo, and you.
Get an exclusive first look at the video for Marathon here:
Listen to the Rigo Kamp EP:
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Togo YEYE & VLISCO’s new collaboration is a celebration of Lomé’s thriving creative scene
Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by
Togo YEYE, a creative duo formed by Lomé-based creative director Malaika Nabillatou and London-based photographer Delali Ayivi, is a conceptual publication that was created to empower and champion Togo’s young fashion creatives. Since its inception in 2021, Togo YEYE has released several personal projects and has also partnered with a number of brands to further its hugely imaginative aesthetic mandate. For their latest collaboration, Togo YEYE teamed up with textile printing company VLISCO to present Blossoming Beauty. Tagged as a love letter to Togo’s creative community, the campaign captures Lomé’s scenic beauty alongside VLISCO’s vibrant prints with the aim of connecting the feminine grace of nature with identity and artistry.
What does Togo YEYE mean?
Malaika Nabilatou: My name is Malaika Nabilatou, I’m the creative director of Togo YEYE. I’m Togolese and I was born and grew up in Lomé. I see myself as a West African creative director and I’m working to be the best in a few years. Togo YEYE means new Togo in Ewe, one of the most popular languages spoken in the South of Togo.
What inspired you to create Togo YEYE?
Malaika Nabilatou: We started this project, my friend Delali and I, 5 years ago. We just wanted to show that Togolese youth are also creative. Togo YEYE is a community we are building for us by us. It wasn’t just a project for Delali and I. It’s become something for the creative scene of Lomé. Lomé is like our studio.
What role does Togolese culture play in your creative process?
Maryline Bolognima: For me, Togolese culture comes first. For example, in the South, there are the people of Anero. If you come, you can go to Anero. In the North, there are the Evals, so if you come to Togo, you’ll learn a lot.
What’s the most exciting part of working as a team on projects like this?
Malaika Nabilatou: I need to tell the truth, we dreamt about this campaign before [it happened]. When VLISCO contacted us, we were like wow. I can’t really explain how thankful we are to VLISCO for trusting us. Because it’s a risk that they took by trusting us, making that campaign here with our team and honestly we are going to keep it in our hearts for the rest of our lives.
Claudia Sodogbe: For me, it is the first big contract of my life that I had with Togo YEYE. I still remember, on the last day of the shoot, I was feeling nostalgic about separating from the teams and the others. It went well in any case, and I’m very grateful to have been on this project.
What has been your proudest moment as part of Togo YEYE?
Malaika Nabilatou: I think the proudest moment I had with this campaign was when I saw the result first on the website. When I saw the story, I was like “wow, we finally made it.”
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Inside The Parties Breathing New Life Into Lagos’ Nightlife Scene
No matter who you, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or...
The crowd marches along on the dancefloor, vibrating to a pulse that is both familiar and electrifying. It takes a second to identify Grammy nominee, Rema’s “Ozeba,” pouring out of the speakers and whipping the crowd into a frenzy as it takes on new life as a turbulent EDM track. The crowd growls and screams in approval of the DJ’s remix, yet another banger in a night filled with back-to-back hits. Hands in the air, sweat dripping from glistening bodies, smoke floating around the dancefloor and young people gyrating with reckless abandon, Element House provides the people with the release they deserve and they reward it with an undying loyalty to its rhythm and raves as they keep coming back.
Party culture has taken on new dimensions in Nigeria over the last two decades as a reaction to economic, social and cultural progressions. This evolution of the way we party is significant considering that Nigeria is a society that lays heavy emphasis on certain accepted standards of moral behavior, rooted in culture and tradition. But that has never once stopped a good time from happening. Millennials and older gen-z will remember the street parties and carnivals of old, usually held at the end of summer holidays or in December, where music by TuFace, Mo’Hits, Akon, Shakira, Lady Gaga and 50 Cent were the staple, among others. There were certain songs automatically expected from any DJ worth his salt otherwise it was not too far-fetched to see a DJ, with his equipment on his head, fleeing for his safety while being chased by an irate mob of partygoers.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. These carnivals and street parties might have been phased out but the idea remains the same while the power and influence of communities powering party culture in Lagos and Nigeria at large has only gotten stronger, especially with the advent of social media. The Block Party series–started in Lagos, Nigeria as the Mainland Block Party–has become the go-to event to celebrate youth culture and foster connections that cut across multiple African cities and walks of life. Today, with curated events in Ibadan, Abuja, Lagos, Accra and others, a community of partygoers is assured maximum enjoyment whenever the Block Party organisers announce an event in their city of the month. The people will always return to where their tastes are catered to, bringing along friends, family and newbies eager to bask in the atmosphere of loud music and togetherness.
In 2012, Warner Bros. Pictures released Project X–a film that follows three friends and high-school students who attempt to gain popularity by throwing a party which ends up escalating out of their control and reaching epic proportions. This idea propagated by Hollywood would go on to influence several house parties thrown in Lagos during the mid to late 2010s. The idea that with the right DJ/music playing at the right venue and with just the right crowd, then immortality was possible–a party so grand that it would be spoken about in glowing terms for years to come until it became lore. Today, house parties are more intimate and controlled, the degrees of separation between attendees reduced by a mutual friend or WhatsApp group they all have in common. From game nights to karaoke sessions to kinky sex parties, whether it’s at Balloons & Cups, a Vogue Boys pool party, or a get-together by the ‘Lagos on a Budget’ IG Community, the role house parties play in the ever evolving party culture is not insignificant, creating a pipeline that feeds into the much larger raves which weekends in Lagos are becoming synonymous with.
Whether it’s Element House today, Mainland House tomorrow, Group Therapy next weekend, WIRED or a host of other house and EDM inspired movements, partygoers are spoiled for choice when it comes to where to indulge their fundamental music tastes in a secure and controlled environment. Nothing is off the menu and a good time is the only badge of honor worth collecting. The increasing popularity of the rave movement in recent years is testament to the fact that it works for both organizers and attendees. The Covid-19 lockdowns changed the way Nigerians party; after months of being isolated from their communities and having to socialize in more intimate and private spaces, it’s no surprise that raves, with their underground nature, became the outlet of choice for several young people as soon as the world opened back up. According to Tonia, a medical doctor and frequent raver living in Lagos, her first few times at parties following the end of the lockdowns were not fun. “I was partying with caution, wearing face masks constantly and carrying hand sanitizer around. It became a much better experience subsequently when everything relaxed and soon enough, I was back enjoying the time of my life at Lagos parties.”
Unburdened from the heavy spending, bottle-popping culture that characterizes Lagos nightlife and cloaked in the embrace of judgment-free anonymity and numbers, raves have become a safe haven for a community of partygoers determined to turn up in the midst of the sheer craziness of living in this day and age. For Michael-Peace, a brand & creative assistant and frequent raver, the appeal goes beyond a need to unwind and the feelings of peace he experiences at raves. “Whether I’m listening to the DJ or just watching the crowd move to the music, it’s a very mindful experience for me,” he says.“I’m grateful to just be there and appreciative of how we can all be one community or family for that period of time.”
The appeal of the rave scene is its inclusivity and it’s a common theme for the new wave of parties exploding in Lagos and environs. No matter who you are or what you stand for, these parties provide a safe space to let loose without fear of objectification or discrimination resulting from socio-economic and political differences, misogyny and other less elegant occurrences which are part of mainstream Nigerian nightlife. This is important to Tonia who, on multiple occasions, has been prevented by bouncers from entering clubs without a male companion. “I’ll always prefer raves, they are much freer and nobody is performing here. There’s no need to show off the number of bottles you bought like there is in a club. Everyone just wants to turn the fuck up and have the time of their lives.”
For five or six hours, the disco lights, turbulent music and fellow ravers provide solace from the outside world. “Dancing the night away” is not merely a suggestion but a divine mandate from the gods of the rave. It is almost impossible to emerge after such an experience and not want to do it again. The music beckons all and sundry to come out, purge yourself of all inhibitions on the dancefloor, then return home and spread the gospel of the electronic music scene to all who might listen. In Michael-Peace’s own words: “There are people I’ve put onto raves and who loved the experience and constantly thank me for introducing them to it. Once you get hooked on it, you’ll never want to let go.”
Party culture in Nigeria continues to evolve as the new wave of parties mark their time and place in history. But the street parties and carnivals of yesteryears are not to be forgotten. The power of community continues to connect the old wave with the new wave, ensuring that actual people remain the focal point of these events, and party goers can enjoy nightlife experiences uniquely tailored to their ever changing wants and needs.
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