As the nights descend, the atmosphere is triggered by the fierce and mournful chants of the doomed, and the scream of the owls, like the preachers of doom, strikes fear into the hearts of all curious minds. The evidence of casting shadows and whirling winds whispers an unsettling melody that undermines the shores of sanity.
Elevated to the center of happenings, I see blood, bones, talismans, and venom, and I gasp. But by day, my eyes are exposed to the beauty and splendor of a game, a symphony of joyful chants, a tapestry of colorful jerseys, a display of skills, and an electrifying atmosphere with passion.
Call on the gods, yes, the gods of football, and let them declare a state of emergency on the game for external forces attempt to undermine its sanity. Tell the gods of football, yes tell them, that the values of sportsmanship may lurk in the dark.
The immense influence of the game can be seen by its ability to drive players to seek external help, a belief not only observed in Africa but heavily embedded in Western culture.
This absolute conviction is characterized by various rituals and superstitions the players indulge in, such as visiting the mosques, pouring libation, making the sign of the cross, and other devotional acts with purported influence on performances.
These acts reveal a deep-seated conviction that external influences, like spirits or deities, can affect the outcome of games and individual performance. The universality of superstition amplifies the widespread belief in the power of external influences that impact success in games.
However, a critical question arises: why is there widespread antagonism towards the belief in spiritual influences on games when they are ostensibly supposed to enhance performance? It is important to acknowledge that some spiritual practices exceed moral boundaries and shift from performance enhancement to harming others for personal gain.
In my definition, the colloquial phenomenon known as juju involves the belief in harnessing spiritual forces, deities, or supernatural entities to affect the outcome of games, often at the expense of others; a practice known to undermine the integrity of football and validate the culture of exploitation and harm.
The emergence of football in Africa, a continent rooted in superstition and religion, dates back to the 1980s. The game was introduced by the European colonizers as part of their cultural and ideological exports. However, the challenges that characterized the evolution of football in Africa included conflict, politics, and cultural resistance.
Although the ideas of the Europeans stayed on the shores of Africa, the first recorded game between British soldiers and civil servants happened in South Africa. This inaugural match was notably played without formal rules. During this period the sport was hybrid, incorporating elements of rugby and soccer.
This wasn’t until the rules of association football were codified in 1863 that football began to take its absolute shape. In Africa, where the overreliance on superstition and religion was significant, players often relied on witch doctors to enhance performance and ensure success on the pitch.
Some of these activities included cutting players to invoke spiritual protection, applying potions to equipment, conducting animal sacrifices, and many others. These practices, which originated in the early days of African football, have persisted to some extent even in modern times.
Despite the popularity and prominence of African football today, the emergence of the sport in history details some challenges, including child trafficking, conflict among players and officials, as well as superstitious practices. Some of these have been the basis for undermining the professionalism of the game.
The intersection of football and ‘juju’ has given rise to many fascinating and sometimes bizarre practices that warrant a closer examination.
The influence of juju has affected players, teams, and other stakeholders. In 2019, Sierra Leonean striker and top scorer for Swedish league team Djurgarden, Buya Turay, attributed a leg injury to Juju.
According to his narrative, he claimed that a witch doctor told him that he had stepped on a spiritual object in the Leone camp that was allegedly placed there by someone seeking to destroy his career through a curse as a result of jealousy.
In another instance, the Zambian football team Red Arrows refused to use their dressing room after the realization of a broken egg that was believed to be a form of juju.
This incident happened during an away match against Kafue Celtics at the Edwin Imboela Stadium. In the 2002 African Cup of Nations tournament, a dramatic incident involving the Cameroonian coach, Thomas Nkono, happened. The coach was arrested spraying the field with elixir and burying bones with the intent of cursing his Malian opponents.
This caused the cancellation of the match, and the coach was escorted off the field by the police. Additionally, former Ghanaian striker Charles Taylor, on several counts, spoke about the adverse effect of black magic in football. He revealed that some individuals used juju to prematurely end his career.
The devastating consequences of these practices have raised concerns by many who seek that the moral fabric of sports is torn asunder. The basics of fair play, which are vital to the beauty of football are undermined by these juju practices. Not only is fair play undermined, but an atmosphere of tension, fear, and anxiety is created, disrupting the excitement associated with football.
Some of these practices have disrupted the flow of games, resulting in violence, misunderstanding, and even cancellation. These practices have redirected the focus from talent and skill but encouraged cheating and intimidation which are antithetical to the values of fair play and sportsmanship.
In the realm of skepticism where many relish, demanding proof for the said phenomenon, it is crucial to emphasize that the mere intention to incorporate juju in football can have a profound impact. When intent alone can fuel attempts to manipulate outcomes, then the credibility and beauty of the game lie in jeopardy, the image of the game is tarnished by the drive of dark arts, and its integrity lies in tatters.
As the days go by, I find myself trapped in the labyrinth of questions that demand answers. Can we confront the juju man? Can we hold him accountable for the chaos he unleashed? Can his wield be considered a form of mental manipulation and mind games? Does this phenomenon exist, or is it a mere mythological construct? But the ultimate remains: Did the juju man steal the football?
