The morning after the 5–0 win against Zambia, and I was still buzzing. That kind of victory hits different. But there was no time to dwell on it too long, video practice content had to be shot, and hotel relocation logistics were waiting.
Before I got into all that though, let me tell you: my daily hot shower has become a ritual I genuinely look forward to. Just me, the perfect water temperature, and silence. If left to me, I’d stay under that stream forever. Sadly, I wasn’t sent to Morocco to turn the bathroom into a spa. So I peeled myself away and went downstairs to speak with the hotel receptionist, pulling out my best slow-motion English so he could understand what I needed.
Once that was sorted, I headed back upstairs to figure out the rest of the day. The plan was to find a good spot to shoot some content, but I couldn’t locate a decent location. Meanwhile, stories were due, so I got to work. And that’s why this diary entry is coming a bit later than usual.
Since the Super Falcons weren’t training, I thought maybe I’d catch some rest. But could I? Not really. Even my emergency “hard bread” from two days ago didn’t look appealing anymore. Thankfully, we had gotten the number of a Nigerian woman here who sells food. Susan ordered early that morning, but I was swamped, so I just munched on leftover snacks from the day before.
Later, we embarked on what I now call “Hotel Relocation Mission”. With Google Maps and our accreditation tags, we set out to find the hotel we plan to move into for the rest of the tournament. On the map, it said 13 minutes on foot. Reality? A maze. Turns, confusion, photos, videos… and still, we were off course.
I called a few friends while we walked, showing them the area and catching up. Along the way, we bumped into roadside vendors selling Wi-Fi devices and Orange (basically Morocco’s MTN). Our English was “cut-and-join,” but it worked. They found out we were here for WAFCON and got excited.
Susan bought something the vendor called “black soup,” but it was served in a mug, looked like tea or coffee. The man asked me to taste it. Me? I like to try new things… but that wasn’t the day. I just couldn’t bring myself to drink something that looked like black tea but claimed to be black soup. He also told us he wants to marry a Nigerian woman. We wished him luck and moved on.
Eventually, after going in full circles, we realised we needed to go back and use a ride rather than walking.
I took Susan to McDonald’s. Oh! Did I mention I discovered the best donuts here in Morocco on my first day? If not, now you know. I went back, ordered them again, plus a cone of ice cream. Let me tell you, whoever invented ice cream deserves VIP access to heaven.
Later, we took a ride to finally check out the new hotel. From the outside, it looked great. Even better, there’s a nearby mall that sells items way cheaper than the store near our current hotel. I felt like we’d been short-changed. But to be fair, that mall operates more in bulk.
We returned to wait for our Nigerian caterer, who was running late. Eventually, she arrived, apologised, and explained how things had delayed her day. We ended up chatting for a while. She’s been in Morocco for a few years and is already eyeing AFCON in December. She hopes more Nigerians will patronise her.
Finally, I sat down with my fried rice and chicken. It looked great. I began multitasking: writing, eating, and scrolling through social media. That’s when I saw Joy’s update, she’d gone to eat eba and bitterleaf soup at an African restaurant without me. The betrayal! I called her out immediately. All while smiling with my fork mid-air, enjoying my own plate of Nigerian goodness.
As the day wound down, I tried to meet a work deadline, but my body had other plans. I was exhausted. I started typing gibberish on my laptop. That was my sign. I shut it down and let sleep win.
Before I drifted off, I smiled again, thinking of how easy it is to cross the street here. Moroccan drivers stop for pedestrians. Not like Lagos where crossing is a where you have to pray and sprint at the same time.
Honestly, they have a working system here. It’s been a week of culture shocks, but also small joys and lessons.
Oh, and remember that driver from the Nigeria vs Zambia match day? The one with the proposal?
He messaged me.
I’ll tell you what he said… in the next diary.
