If the Nigeria Football Federation (NFF), under the watch of its supervising authority, the National Sports Commission (NSC), goes ahead to extend Eric Sékou Chelle’s contract, then one thing becomes unavoidable: a public, unambiguous apology to José Peseiro. Anything short of that would confirm what many already suspect—that decision-making in Nigerian football is still allergic to logic, memory, and merit.
Peseiro led Nigeria to the AFCON final in Côte d’Ivoire. Not a semifinal cameo. Not a consolation finish. A final. He delivered silver on the biggest stage in African football, against the odds and amid relentless internal sabotage. Yet, instead of building on that momentum, the NFF showed him the door, casually discarding competence like an expendable luxury.
Fast-forward to Eric Chelle. We are now being told his contract may be renewed for delivering a bronze medal at AFCON Morocco 2025. Bronze. Third place. A finish that was never Nigeria’s benchmark, never the mandate, and certainly never the dream. And yet, the system is bending over backwards to keep him. One must ask: based on what measurable achievement?
Chelle’s scorecard is thin. He presided over a disappointing CHAN outing with the home-based Eagles. He failed to secure Nigeria’s World Cup ticket, despite bold promises at the point of appointment. His tenure has been more about excuses than excellence, more struggle than structure. If bronze is now the new gold, then Nigerian football has officially lowered its ceiling.
What makes this even more absurd is that Chelle largely inherited Peseiro’s team. The same core players. The same tactical spine. The same mental grit forged in Côte d’Ivoire. Yet, with that inheritance, he laboured—from World Cup qualifiers to AFCON—looking short of ideas and conviction. The machine Peseiro built suddenly began to sputter.
Let us not forget that Peseiro’s Eagles produced the Most Valuable Player of AFCON 2023. That is not incidental; it is evidence of coaching clarity, trust in players, and a system that allowed talent to breathe. There is a real argument that, had Peseiro been retained, Nigeria might well have gone one step further in Morocco.
So what exactly is the logic here? Sacking a coach who won silver and retaining one who won bronze? In what serious footballing country does regression qualify as progress? This is not pragmatism; it is institutional incoherence masquerading as policy.
The entire episode reeks of poor judgment and selective amnesia. It sends a dangerous message: that performance is secondary, consistency irrelevant, and standards negotiable. Coaches are punished for success and rewarded for mediocrity, depending on forces football fans are never allowed to see.
If Chelle is retained, then history demands honesty. The NFF must apologise to José Peseiro—for the disrespect, for the impatience, and for proving that in Nigerian football, logic often loses to convenience. Until that apology is made, every talk of reform, professionalism, or progress will remain hollow noise.
