My Children Must Play Football”: A Soldier’s Lament that Exposes the Brutal Truth of Service

“My Children Must Play Football”: A Soldier’s Lament that Exposes the Brutal Truth of Service

“My Children Must Play Football”: A Soldier’s Lament that Exposes the Brutal Truth of Service

Reported by GlobalEgberiMedia | 31st July, 2025

In a deeply emotional poem titled “My Children Must Play Football”, an anonymous Nigerian soldier currently serving in the far North of the country has voiced a truth that resonates far beyond the barracks — a bitter, honest confession of what it means to serve in a country that gives so little in return.

The poem, raw and unfiltered, is not just an artistic piece — it is a cry for help, a lamentation of lost dignity, forgotten sacrifices, and the silent deaths of heroes in faded camouflage.

A Uniform Stained with Dust, Not Honour

The soldier, still actively involved in the ongoing fight against banditry, opens with a jarring declaration:

“I joined not for wealth, but for something far more fragile—hope… a quiet, thankless sacrifice for a country that forgets too quickly.”

From the deserts of the North to the creeks of the Niger Delta, he narrates nights spent sleeping beside reptiles, fighting without adequate recognition or equipment, and surviving in a country where the real enemy often isn’t the one behind the gun — but the system behind the desk.

Survival Without Glory

He describes how survival in combat comes at a price — not of medals or promotions, but of limbs, sight, and the mental trauma that never heals. Even then, should he return home wounded, his burden shifts to his family. His wife carries his weight in silence. His children learn sorrow long before they learn success. The state looks the other way.

In one of the most heartbreaking revelations, the soldier shares how his female child, hoping for employment, becomes a target for predatory former colleagues.

“Tell her to come see me… in private.”

A silent commentary on the rot within the system that was supposed to protect and reward integrity.

From Battlefield to Barracks, Then Nothing

After 35 years of service, he retires with “honour” — but without a house, land, or pension certainty. He squats in barracks, squeezed into corners, his gratuity delayed or reduced. Eventually, his funds run dry. His health deteriorates. He dies. No obituary. No statue. No remembrance.

But the Footballer Gets Everything

The soldier’s central message pierces the national conscience — the contrast between soldiers and footballers. In one tournament, a footballer gets what a lifetime of military service couldn’t offer:

“A medal… $100,000 from the President. N10 million from governors. A house. A car. Endorsements. Recognition.”

Thus, his resolution:

“That is why — my children must play football… because it is the only way this nation listens.”

A Nation That Consumes Its Own

The soldier doesn’t pretend to speak for teachers, doctors, or police officers. He only speaks from inside the uniform. Yet his words echo through every Nigerian home that has lost someone to national service — in combat, in silence, in abandonment.

His final words are not bitter — they are matter-of-fact:

“There is no dignity left in this uniform. Only dust. Only debt. Only silence.”

Conclusion

This poem is more than literature. It is a living document — a national confession. A shameful truth wrapped in the simplicity of rhyme and rhythm. One soldier wrote it, but thousands live it.

As the country applauds footballers and entertainers with pomp and ceremony, the silent ones — the ones who keep the nation’s borders safe — continue to fade into obscurity.

Let us not just read. Let us remember. Let us act.

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