It was the day of the big one, Nigeria vs Zambia in the quarterfinals. My first live WAFCON match experience.
But before the football, a quick flashback: I forgot to mention in my Day Two diary that I boldly inserted my Opay card into a Moroccan ATM, with all the swag and confidence of a Naija babe. The machine didn’t even give it a second. Spat it right back out. If only they knew how valuable Opay is to us Nigerians.
Now, back to the game, and my journey to the stadium. But first, I can’t thank my team enough for trusting me to be here, covering this tournament.
That morning, I worked a bit, showered, got dressed, checked my to-do list, and booked my ride. The first driver cancelled (again), but the second one came through. As soon as I got in, we started chatting. He spoke a bit of English and was curious about my accreditation tag.
Then came those questions: “Are you married?” “Any children?” I said no to both. He said I was beautiful. I said thank you.
Then he asked if he wasn’t beautiful too. I replied, “You’re a good-looking man.”
That’s when he said he was divorced, “Too many problems.”
In my head, I’m saying, “Oga, you’re oversharing o.”
Before we got to the stadium, he said he wanted to see me after the match and that I should come stay at his place. Even asked for a selfie. In my mind: “Oga, is this how you want to kidnap me?”
Thankfully, we arrived at the stadium.
The media rules were tight, CAF restricted videos and photos. Before kickoff, I was seated near the Zambia fan section.
The Super Falcons were ruthless. A 5–0 win over Zambia, a real reminder of who owns the continent. The first goal came inside two minutes, and from there, the Falcons never looked back.
The Zambians had talked about hunting, but this was a classic case of bushmeat catching the hunter.
As a media person sitting in the press section, I was supposed to remain calm and composed. But the football fan in me, the Super Falcons fan, couldn’t keep it all in. I tried, honestly. But when they kept hacking my captain, Rasheedat Ajibade, and the referee wasn’t issuing cards, I flared up. Then quickly calmed down before they came to chase me out.
I wasn’t just happy about the scoreline, I was thrilled we dominated from start to finish. Every single player, both on the pitch and on the bench, came through.
At 2–0, I needed to use the restroom. But heaven knows I wasn’t leaving that game for anything. I waited until half-time, walking to the restroom with extra shoulder pad. Because why not? If e easy, do am.
Nigeria fans were loud and everywhere. If I wasn’t Nigerian, I might find us too much. But honestly, I love how we always announce our presence. Full vibes.
Watching, working… and before you know it, it was over.
Victory for Nigeria. Despair for Zambia.
They didn’t believe it. Never expected the 5–0 coming. But hey, we had to remind them: nine-time champions isn’t for decoration.
Then came the press conference.
And oh! Remember the CAF lady from last time? The one that didn’t pick me to ask a question? That one. She kept her promise, and I asked questions to Coach Justin Madugu and Coach Nora.
(Go to our X handle to see the video)
After that came the mixed zone, and the hustle to get players’ interviews in a crowd of happy Nigerian journalists. With a 5–0 win, the players were in high spirits. I managed to speak with a few; you’ll find those clips on our X social media page too.
We were trying to round up fast because stadium officials wanted us out. So, I packed up after failing to get decent content in the noisy background.
Getting a ride with Susan was a hustle.
After a thousand cancelled rides, we finally got one. Meanwhile, my morning driver was still texting me. But at that point, I had other priorities: food.
We headed to Ifrane Restaurant in Casablanca to meet up with Joy, Micolo, and Mr. Edafe, who treated us to fries and tacos (first time for me). I couldn’t finish my meal, so we packed it up.
And then, oh! How did I forget?
I saw bread. In a basket. A basket of bread. Biblical style.
After we packed the unfinished meal, Mr. Edafe blessed me with the bread.
Did I taste it the moment I got home? Wait.
So, I ordered our ride back to the hotel and went outside to speak to the driver. I now know how to respond to their greeting: “Assalam Walekum.” Then I asked, “You speak English?”
We stopped to get water and a few things before returning to the hotel. Inside, some light banter with the receptionist (after Morocco won their game against Mali). I told him Nigeria would win the title. He said, “We Nigerians are so happy because we won.” And I’m like, “Before nko?”
Back in the room, I unwrapped the bread, took a bite… and sighed.
No. Not again.
It wasn’t soft. I didn’t like it. But I still ate a bit before wrapping the rest.
My quest for soft bread in this city continues.
Worst case? I’ll recommend our Agege recipe to their bakers.
Do I have the recipe? Time to check the internet.
Tomorrow’s a rest day.
I’ll sleep, tour a bit, and hopefully not get lost.
If you see Diary Six, I made it back.
