ODOGWU IN BOX 18 : One Death, Too Many in Nigeria Refereeing

ODOGWU IN BOX 18 : One Death, Too Many in Nigeria Refereeing
ODOGWU IN BOX 18 : One Death, Too Many in Nigeria Refereeing

 

In the space of just one week, Nigeria’s football community has been shaken to its very foundation with the passing of two iconic figures in the nation’s refereeing circle. The deaths of former FIFA Assistant Referee, Bosede Momoh, and the former President of the Nigeria Referees Association (NRA), Otunba Tade Azeez, have left a gaping void in the heart of the sport. These tragedies are more than mere losses—they are wake-up calls, stark reminders of the fragility of life and the need to honour and support those who have given everything to the game.

 

As the Nigeria Football Federation (NFF) and the larger football ecosystem come to terms with these monumental losses, the prevailing sentiment is one of sorrow, nostalgia, and a sense of irreplaceable absence. In the words of NFF General Secretary, Dr Mohammed Sanusi, “Another big loss to the Nigeria football fraternity. Only a few days ago, we were mourning the death of former FIFA referee Bosede Momoh. This is devastating.”

 

It is indeed, one death too many.

 

Born to officiate, disciplined to lead, and gifted with an aura of kindness that made her unforgettable, Bosede Momoh was not just another referee. She was one of the few women who successfully broke through the glass ceiling in a male-dominated sport. As a FIFA Assistant Referee, Momoh represented Nigeria with pride and distinction. She stood firm on the touchline, flag in hand, unwavering in her calls, and carried an integrity that made her one of the most respected officials in the game.

 

Her death on Monday, 21st April 2025, at the National Hospital in Abuja, after a protracted illness, brought an outpouring of grief from colleagues, players, and football administrators alike. Yet, even in mourning, many found solace in the life she led and the legacy she left behind.

 

“She was kind-hearted and of good character, yet firm and diligent in her duties,” said Dr Sanusi. “The NFF and the entire Nigeria football fraternity will miss her, as she was still contributing meaningfully to the game even after her retirement.”

 

And indeed she was. Even after hanging up her FIFA badge, Momoh remained deeply involved in football as a National Physical Fitness Instructor and assessor with the Nigeria Premier Football League (NPFL). Her life was a masterclass in dedication—never seeking the spotlight but always doing the work.

 

 

Just four days after Momoh’s passing, tragedy struck again. The death of Otunba Tade Azeez, former President of the Nigeria Referees Association, on Friday, 25th April 2025, was both sudden and devastating. At just 63, Azeez was still actively contributing to the sport he had helped shape for decades.

 

Azeez’s death came as a shock even to those closest to him. “What? Are you serious?” Dr Sanusi asked, stunned, when first informed. “We didn’t even know that he was sick.”

 

Otunba Azeez was more than just a football administrator; he was a statesman of the sport. Known for his charisma, people skills, and strategic mind, he led the NRA during a transformative era, introducing forward-thinking reforms that positioned Nigerian refereeing for a more technologically advanced future. He helped shape policies, trained referees, and ensured that Nigeria remained visible on the international officiating map.

 

Even after stepping down from the NRA presidency, Azeez stayed engaged, serving as chairman of the ValueJet Cup competition, a premier off-season football tournament that helped showcase local talent and give upcoming referees a platform to shine.

 

In Lagos State, he worked closely with Barr. Seyi Akinwunmi during the golden years of the Lagos State Football Association, a period that many still describe as one of the most progressive in the state’s football history.

 

 

The deaths of Momoh and Azeez, just days apart, are painful not just because of their timing, but because of what they signify. Both individuals were icons—trailblazers, mentors, and tireless advocates for the integrity of the game. They both continued to serve the game long after their officiating days were over, showing an unwavering love for football that extended beyond career or recognition.

 

Their deaths now raise difficult, but necessary questions: Are we doing enough to support our referees, both in service and in retirement? Is the Nigerian football ecosystem doing enough to care for those who care for the game?

 

Referees are often the most maligned figures in football. Players may be celebrated, coaches may be idolized, and administrators may be respected—but referees are frequently forgotten unless controversy calls. Yet without them, the game cannot function.

 

Momoh and Azeez are proof that referees are more than just officials; they are architects of order in a chaotic game. They uphold the rules, manage emotions, ensure fairness, and make countless decisions that determine the fate of matches, teams, and careers.

 

Their dedication deserves more than condolence messages after death—it deserves action, infrastructure, healthcare, insurance, and respect in life.

 

In Nigeria, and across many African nations, referees often operate without adequate protection—physically, medically, or economically. From hostile crowds to poorly maintained pitches, from delayed allowances to the absence of post-career support structures, the challenges are numerous and deeply embedded.

 

Bosede Momoh reportedly suffered a “protracted illness.” What kind of support did she receive from the system she served so faithfully? Otunba Azeez died after a “brief illness.” Was there a support framework for him in his final moments? These are uncomfortable questions—but they must be asked.

 

For too long, the Nigerian football system has depended on the passion and sacrifice of individuals, while often neglecting to provide safety nets for them. The refereeing community, despite being essential to the game, is often left out in discussions about welfare, health insurance, retirement plans, or capacity development.

 

 

The most meaningful way to honour the memories of Bosede Momoh and Otunba Tade Azeez is not with flowers or tributes alone—but with change.

1. Establish a Referees’ Welfare Fund: The NFF, in collaboration with the Nigeria Referees Association and private sector partners, should set up a fund specifically targeted at the health and well-being of current and retired referees.

2. Create a National Referees’ Pension Scheme: Just as players now benefit from better welfare and career-transition programs, referees too should be given a pension or gratuity package after decades of service.

3. Invest in Health Insurance: No referee—active or retired—should die from an illness that could have been treated with timely intervention. Comprehensive health insurance must become a basic right for all referees.

4. Institutionalize an Annual Referees’ Legacy Award: Celebrate legends like Momoh and Azeez by institutionalizing an annual award in their names, to honour excellence and long-term service in refereeing.

5. Mentorship and Leadership Academies: Use the stories and experiences of these fallen heroes to educate and train the next generation of referees.

 

Football is not just about the goals, the players, or the trophies. It is about the people who make the game possible—often behind the scenes, away from the cameras, and sometimes, without thanks.

 

Bosede Momoh and Otunba Tade Azeez were among the finest Nigeria has ever produced. Their lives were lived in the service of fairness, discipline, and passion for football. Their deaths are not just personal tragedies; they are national losses.

 

As the final whistle sounds on their lives, the message is clear: One death is already too many. Two, in one week, is an alarm.

 

The time for eulogies is now. But the time for reform must follow quickly. Nigeria cannot afford to keep losing its best in silence. The referees who gave their lives to the game deserve more than our condolences—they deserve our commitment.

ODOGWU IN BOX 18 : One Death, Too Many in Nigeria Refereeing
ODOGWU IN BOX 18 : One Death, Too Many in Nigeria Refereeing

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