African players are never far from the pinnacle of the world’s game.
The perfect illustration of this can be seen in France and its approach both to development in football and to a sense of national identity, carried over and evolved from old colonial policy. Unlike the British empire and other leading European powers of the time, France instilled a policy of assimilation in its colonies, aiming to turn colonised people into “civilised” Frenchmen and women having (in theory) equal rights with their colonisers, to be developed through the mission civilisatrice.
France’s 1998 World Cup winning squad relied on stars with roots in Africa and the French Caribbean, such as Marcel Desailly, Zinedine Zidane, Lilian Thuram and even a young Thierry Henry.
Exactly 20 years later, this was even more apparent as France won a second World Cup, featuring the likes of Adil Rami, Presnel Kimpembe, Raphaël Varane, Samuel Umtiti, Paul Pogba, Benjamin Mendy, Blaise Matuidi, N’Golo Kanté, Steve Nzonzi, Nabil Fekir and young stars such as Ousmane Dembélé and Kylian Mbappé.
At that tournament a whopping 78% of France’s squad came from families with roots outside the French mainland. It is quite ironic, therefore, that while many on social media dubbed this squad “Africa FC” as it went on to lift the prestigious trophy, Africa itself had one of its worst World Cup showings since 1982 – with not a single African nation making it past the group stage.
Why African footballers choose foreign national teams
So, what is holding African players back from representing African countries?
Some players may feel a genuine kinship with the countries they represent, growing up in immigrant families, or coming from families that have been citizens of these nations for decades, with their connection to their countries of origin dwindling over time.
For others, not representing an African country is an active decision. England and Manchester United midfielder Kobbie Mainoo was born in Stockport to two Ghanaian parents, and has opted for a squad role behind the likes of Jude Bellingham – much to the chagrin of the Ghana FA president, Kurt Okraku, who called the decision “unfortunate”, going on to say that “full-blooded Ghanaians should be representing their countries.”
While European countries do offer prestige, representing an African nation can provide greater opportunities for regular football and a more central role within a national team. Current Golden Boy trophy holder Désiré Doué already has two Champions League medals to his name, having played a key role in the attacking system of the Paris Saint-Germain team, establishing himself as one of the world’s best young attacking players. However, due to strong positional competition in one of the top national teams on the planet, he is often relegated to the bench in France’s international games.
Meanwhile Doué’s older brother Guéla, who plies his trade for Strasbourg, a middling Ligue 1 side, is a core part of Ivory Coast’s World Cup squad, providing reliable support in both attack and defence from his right back position, scoring a goal and providing an assist in The Elephants’ historic win over France in the pre-tournament friendlies.
The US star striker Folarin Balogun is an uncommon case. Born to Nigerian parents and raised in London, he spent 12 years at the Arsenal academy. After spending a majority of his youth career with England’s national team, he instead chose to defy all expectations, accepting the call up to the US team, for which he was eligible due to a freak circumstance: his mother was turned away from a return flight to London after a holiday in New York, due to the airline not wanting to transport someone in such a late stage of pregnancy. Balogun was thus born in New York and and spent the first two months of his life there, before returning to his family in London with birthright US citizenship.
African football’s lack of prestige
African football has always lacked a certain level of prestige and high regard. Even when a player chooses to represent their home country and is spoken of as one of the world’s best, they are discouraged by their clubs when it comes to representing an African nation, pressured in some cases to prioritise European club football instead.
In 2022 the Senegalese Football Federation was at loggerheads with English Premier League side Watford, accusing it of refusing to release Ismaila Sarr for that year’s Africa Cup of Nations (AFCON) tournament as it drifted closer to the relegation zone. That same year, Napoli owner Aurelio De Laurentiis made an explicit public statement, asserting that he would not allow his club to sign any more African players unless they signed a waiver agreeing to give up their right to represent their countries at AFCON. De Laurentiis made this statement at a time when Kalidou Koulibaly, Napoli’s star defender, was also captain of the Senegalese national team.
Choosing foreign national teams
The consequences of this institutional disregard are tangible. Players with African heritage increasingly opt out of representing their countries of origin entirely, citing poor organisation, inadequate facilities and a lack of basic professional respect. A number of players with African heritage have rejected call-ups, switched allegiances or distanced themselves from national setups that they feel do not treat them as professionals.
The Boateng brothers illustrate this well. Kevin-Prince and Jérôme were integral to the success of the national teams they represented, but while Jérôme is regarded as a German footballing legend and one of the best defenders to grace the sport, Kevin-Prince was, in his own words, pushed out of the Ghana squad in the middle of a World Cup for demanding better terms and timely pay for himself and his team-mates. When the experience of representing an African nation is characterised by logistical chaos and a sense that the federation does not value its own players, the decision to prioritise European football becomes easier to justify.
Another perspective on why players may not represent their home country is due to war or conflict in the region, leading them to become refugees in other countries. This is the case for players such as Alphonso Davies of Bayern Munich, who was born in Ghana as a Liberian refugee and now captains the Canadian national team; while Alexander Isak and Taha Ali of the Swedish national team were born to Eritrean and Somali refugee parents respectively. Australia’s national team the Socceroos fully embraces this trend, with players Nestory Irankunda, Mohamed Touré, Awer Mabil and Tete Yengi being born as refugees or having a refugee parent.
African football, both on and off the pitch, is seen by those at the top of the football world as unrefined and underdeveloped, with poor management and coaching and even worse facilities – but is this really the case?
Legendary players in the English Premier League, Yaya and Kolo Touré, Didier Zokora, Emmanuel Eboué, Salomon Kalou and Didier Drogba all came up through the youth system of the ASEC Mimosas team in Abidjan. Meanwhile,
Senegal’s golden generation is built on homegrown talent who started at local academies before being transferred to the world’s best clubs. Sadio Mané, Ismaila Sarr and Papiss Cissé all started their careers at the Génération Foot academy in Dakar, while Idrissa Gueye built his foundation at Patrick Vieira’s Diambars, based in Saly, Senegal. The Senegalese Federation has embraced this philosophy wholeheartedly, even prioritising homegrown talent in its coaching staff and team management, and this has shown clear dividends in the team’s greatly improved in-game performance over the last decade.
African football needs good management and investment
It is clear that what Africa needs is good management and a genuine desire to develop and support the plethora of young talent on the continent, as well as the expertise off the pitch to negotiate better terms for players and academies.
A huge amount of investment, both in time and resources, goes into developing young talent at the grassroots level. While FIFA mandates solidarity payments to training clubs, these amount to just 5% of any transfer fee divided across every club that trained a player between the ages of 12 and 23.
A well-negotiated sell-on clause at the point of Mané’s first move to Europe, for example, could have entitled Génération Foot to a meaningful share of his eventual £35m ($47m) valuation. Unfortunately, grassroots African academies seldom have the legal infrastructure or negotiating leverage to secure such terms when selling to wealthier European clubs.
In the case of countries such as South Africa, football is not prioritised institutionally and is culturally regarded as a “lower-class” sport. Children are encouraged to participate in sports such as cricket and rugby; this is reinforced by private-school sporting activity and support, as well as by scholarship opportunities for those from less privileged backgrounds.
Though the majority of the country has a great love of football, as evidenced by the fierce support given to its two most popular clubs, Orlando Pirates and Kaizer Chiefs, whose Soweto Derby games are national events that pack stadiums to capacity, national team “Bafana Bafana” notoriously underperform on the international stage while the Springboks and the Proteas hold world championships in rugby and cricket respectively – rarely ranked outside the top 5 teams in the world.
The South African example
After South Africa won the bid to host the 2010 FIFA World Cup, critics lambasted it for superfluous spending and an overambitious plan for sports development in the nation, predicting that stadiums would go empty and the country would continue to prioritise rugby, cricket and running. This couldn’t be further from the case.
The “Gautrain” mass transit system built for the tournament has now become an integral part of Johannesburg and the Gauteng region as a whole, creating new jobs and opening up opportunities for those who had to rely on independently run buses called “kombis” to make their way between the suburbs and the inner city.
The stadiums have been consistently occupied by local teams, allowing them to have a more stable and consistent income through ticket sales and events hosting. These funds have been reinvested in developing local talent and raising the profile of the Premier Soccer League, which now even hosts foreign players from around the continent and beyond.
While it has taken over a decade for Bafana Bafana to qualify for another World Cup, and even longer for it to do so on footballing merit alone, South Africa’s presence at the 2025 FIFA Club World Cup through CAF Champions League winners Mamelodi Sundowns is nothing to scoff at. The Sundowns were the only sub-Saharan African side in the tournament, and were built around a squad composed largely of homegrown players.
What sets the Sundowns apart from the competition is a deeply entrenched footballing philosophy dubbed “Shoeshine & Piano”, which the team has developed since the tenure of head coach Stanley “Screamer” Tshabalala in the 1980s. The approach blends Spanish-style Tiki-taka with Diski, the traditionally flamboyant, almost rhythmic style of play seen in South Africa’s streets and townships.
The result is a highly technical, dominant and possession-based game, with passing that is quick, short and kept on the ground, designed to overwhelm and frustrate opponents while entertaining those in the stands – earning the club the epithet, “Bafana ba Style” which translates to “The Stylish Boys”. The whole team is involved in attacks, with the goalkeeper being the focal point of distributing the ball and initiating plays, taking advantage of a unique perspective as the only player who can see the whole field. The philosophy permeates the entire club, taught to players at the academy level and even reflected in the women’s teams.
Charting the way forward
Talent has never been the question. A solid foundation of legal, commercial and institutional infrastructure is what Africa needs to capitalise on its vast football potential.
The academies of Dakar and Abidjan have proven they can develop world-class players. The Sundowns have proven that a coherent footballing philosophy, built on homegrown talent and serious investment, can compete on the global stage. The template exists. What African football needs now is the acumen and framework to match its ambition, treating their players as investment assets worth retaining. Players in the diaspora will keep shining and doing what is best for their own success. The question is whether Africa can build the conditions to make staying home worth it.