By Ese Ikefe
As the sun sets over Abraka, Delta State, a different crowd begins to gather. Young men and women wander down River Road into betting shops and viewing centres, gazing at the television screens and mobile phones. Some discuss football statistics with the confidence of professional analysts, while others quietly study betting slips, hoping that ninety minutes of football somewhere in Europe or another international tournament could change their lives.
The interior of Affirmbetz on River Road, Abraka is usually filled with excitement and tension. One goal and the entire room could erupt in jubilation while another side remains silent. Sports betting has become a way of life for many Nigerian youths. It is fast becoming a culture and, for some, an effort to find financial freedom.
Twenty-three-year-old Daniel Efejuku, who is waiting for a job, claims he began betting as a student.
“At first, it was just for fun,” he says. “My friends and I would predict football scores. Then I won ₦12,000 from a small stake, and I started believing that betting could help me solve some of my financial problems.”
Daniel’s story is not an isolated instance. In Nigeria, thousands of young people are increasingly engaged in sports betting to make money or to alleviate economic difficulties. With unemployment, inflation and the rising cost of living, many youths see betting as an opportunity to achieve what hard work alone sometimes seems unable to provide.
According to one young trader in Abraka, Blessing Akpore, the economy has been a major contributor to the increasing craze of betting.
“Everything is expensive,” she says. Some people believe that gambling is the quickest way to make money, and you hear about people who have won huge amounts, and you think it can happen to you too.
With the advent of smartphones and internet services, betting has never been easier. Young people no longer have to visit betting shops physically. They can place bets from their hostels, offices, restaurants and even classrooms.
However, despite this, it has been found that physical betting centres are still popular because they offer a venue where individuals can discuss their wages, boast of their victories and motivate each other to continue the game.
The manager of Affirmbetz on River Road, Abraka agreed to give his interview but insisted his name be not published.
“There are a lot of people that come in every day,” he noted. “Some treat betting as entertainment, but others believe it is their only chance to become rich. After a few wins, they become very confident and start taking bigger risks.”
One of the challenges he faces is that many bettors won’t take a loss, he says.
Some people even come back tomorrow with more money because they think the next game will be different, he says.
Inside the betting shop, conversations revolve around football odds. One evening, bettors debate a home team with odds of *1.90, a draw at 3.50 and an away victory at 4.10. Others combine several matches into one ticket with high cumulative odds, hoping that a small amount of money could produce a life-changing reward.
The FIFA Club World Cup further fueled the excitement. Daniel recalls staking money in the opening match between Inter Miami and Al Ahly because he believed Inter Miami would win. Rather, it was a goalless draw and his ticket was lost.
“I was very confident,” he says. “I even combined the match with other games because I wanted a bigger payout. When the final whistle went, I lost the money I had planned to use for my personal needs.”
He said that many youthful bettors around him had made similar predictions throughout the tournament. Although they have already failed to win, they still have faith that the next time they will have the big break they are looking for.
The potential for a big win makes many people return.
However, there’s a reality to the excitement.
Residents in Abraka say they have watched friends and neighbours make painful sacrifices because of gambling. Some bet with money for food, transportation, school fees or house rent. Some people take out loans from relatives or friends, and they believe they will be able to pay the loans back with their next prize.
In more extreme situations, people reportedly sell valuable possessions or use their assets to secure loans because they believe they are one lucky ticket away from wealth.
Daniel reports that he has firsthand experience with the impact.
He says he knows people who sold their motorcycles to get money to keep gambling. I have heard of people using the money they saved for house construction or business expansion and hoping to win big and end up losing all their money.
Some residents also say a few hardscrabble gamblers have risked the funds they’ve acquired by mortgaging property, selling cars or selling away other valuable belongings in hopes of a life-changing jackpot. Many of them were let down in their dreams and become even more destitute.
Blessing’s experience is similar.
“People only post their winnings on social media,” she says. Nobody mentions the people that lost their rent money or the trader who used her business capital and was unable to get it back.
For Samuel Oghenekaro, a mechanic apprentice, the attraction is easy to understand.
If you don’t have a steady paycheck, gambling may seem like a chance for you to get some of that money,” he says. “You tell yourself that if one ticket works, all your problems will disappear.”
His friend, Michael Okotie, thinks that it is this very thing that makes betting hazardous.
He says it begins small, “kind of like a little nugget. When you win, you believe that it will happen again, and you become obsessed with recouping your losses, before you realize you are in debt and you are making more promises than you can keep.
Parents also worry about the growing trend. Mrs. Josephine Okoro, whose son lives in Abraka, says many families are concerned about the influence of betting on young people.
“We work hard to provide for our children,” she says. “It is painful when money meant for education or feeding is spent on gambling because somebody is hoping for a jackpot.”
Despite these concerns, some young people insist that betting is only a form of entertainment.
A football enthusiast, Emmanuel Avwerosuoghene, believes in moderation.
“I enjoy football, and betting makes the matches more exciting,” he says. “The problem begins when people believe betting is a career or the only way to survive.”
The betting shops are still active as the sun sets over Abraka. Late goals are the cause of cheers when they turn the tide of a game. At the same time, disappointed faces quietly leave the shop with torn betting slips in their pockets. Many will come back on the following day.
The culture of betting among the Nigerian youths is more of a story than football. It’s a tale of ambition, struggle and pursuit of a better life. It brings to light some of the problems of a generation that aspires for good fortune but may not get it.
For some, betting remains harmless entertainment. For others, it turns into a routine that eventually eats away savings, property, and relationships.
The hope of instant wealth has led some people to risk their business capital, their cars, their homes and other valuable possessions, believing that one lucky prediction will change their lives forever. Unfortunately, many will find out that the dream they had pursued has cost them more than they bargained for.
As another football weekend looms, the young people of Abraka, and indeed Nigeria, will, again, huddle around TV sets and mobile devices in order to study the statistics and make calculations.
Some will celebrate. Many will lose.
But nearly all of them will hold the same wish the next ticket will be the one that will make everything different.
