Is Uganda's AFCON 2027 dream built on a lie? The case against naturalisation

Oh Uganda…

The first two words of our national anthem—in full ‘Oh Uganda, Land of Beauty’. Then again, do we really care? Is there any value in a sense of national pride? Isn’t life simply about the ends—money, power, respect? Does it matter if we have a national anthem, whether it is in English or French? Wait, what does being Ugandan mean anyway?

These are just a few of the questions that the ongoing denationalisation of the Uganda Cranes under the guise of Afcon 2027 success has provoked. At least for yours truly. But, of course, such views are not universal.

For many Ugandans, all that matters is the Cranes winning. Whether it is Owusu Boateng or Arnold Vula leading the way, rather than Allan Okello or James Bogere makes no difference. It is just football.

But is it just football? And is Ssemakula more or less Sissako? Potato, potato, right?

When Uganda reached the final of the Afcon in 1978, which is still the greatest feat in the sport’s history, the success did not only etch the legends of that team into history, it also proved that the country to manufacture its biggest triumphs. And, of course, there were multiple major victories before that, and there have been many more after, which have made the same point.

Among others, John Aki Bua, Joshua Cheptegei, Jacob Kiplimo, John Mugabi, the She Cranes, Rugby Cranes, Cricket Cranes.

They proved, so to speak, that there is plenty of beauty in our land without the need to forge connections abroad. FUFA’s naturalisation revolution says the opposite. It is a clear admission of failure.

It suggests that a country of 50 million people, which has played football for 100 years and has a football structure with thousands of primary and secondary schools, dozens of league teams and universities, and several academies, cannot develop players good enough to compete at the Afcon.

That is a lie. The issue is not ability, but the lack of leadership. It is not that Uganda lacks talent or logistics, but that it is not interested in paying the dues of player development. Shortcuts are therefore the obvious choice. And naturalisation is the ultimate shortcut. It is the end point of a culture riddled with age-cheating in school and international under-age tournaments, witchcraft in University, Masaza Cup and national league competitions.

Building professional systems, creating philosophies, and grooming players from a young age takes time, effort and money. It is slow and risky. But when you get it right, it is worth it. That is what Afcon 2027 should have been about – using this opportunity as the moment we decided to do it right. Instead, we opted for what we always do. Another shortcut.

Oh Uganda!