Without sponsorship our Premier League is as good as dead

Eric Kapaito

Kariobangi Sharks players celebrate a goal during their FKFPL match against Vihiga United at Thika Stadium on July 17, 2021.

Photo credit: Sila Kiplagat | Nation Media Group

What you need to know:

  • One hopes that whoever runs this season’s leagues will tackle this immense challenge of funding so that the picture under Ruto becomes hopeful for once.

A new football season is coming, characters of the past are claiming to have retaken the mandate to run local leagues, while everybody is still wondering whether last season’s games really counted for anything. And that’s just a small part of the problem.

The bigger issue, from where I sit, is that even as clubs engage in preseason preparations, there remains a serious challenge of funding the league.

Of course, we have been here before. And if those who now want to run the 2022/2023 season were capable of listening to the cries of footballers and other stakeholders, you would expect a plan to move forward by now.

But there is none.
Our new president pitched himself as the Hustlers’ candidate, and spoke convincingly about tackling youth idleness and unemployment.

Well, if you ask me, sports is hustle business. The thousands of ambitious but struggling local footballers are part of the population class that inspired the tag “Hustler” that propelled President William Ruto to power. 

Which is why the fact that the President made no mention of local sports in his inauguration address on Tuesday could be wrongly viewed as proof of his disdain for the local sports industry, or undermining its role in spurring development and uniting the country.

The record rises in fuel and other commodity bills could see clubs paying so much more for their training, travel and accommodation just to honour local games this season. Only three out of 18 Kenyan Premier League clubs have sponsors worth talking of, and the league itself operates without a budget.

Even before the recent economic meltdown, local football clubs were already facing unprecedented strain due to lack of proper funding.

The idea of restarting the league while expecting clubs to fend for themselves is asking clubs the impossible.

It is driving footballers, referees and club chairmen mad. Referees are battling the temptation to ditch ethics and practice immoral officiating for a few pieces of silver, because they hardly ever get paid.

Club chairmen are wondering whether match fixing is really wrong when everyone else seems to be doing it, and footballers are now busy moonlighting as cab drivers and boda boda riders in order to stretch their budgets beyond capacity. This is the state of football today.

Yet the common refrain among many is, bring back football. So desperate are fans of local football that they no longer care who is controlling things at Kandanda House or what format the league will take.

All they want is a little football action. That is one consequence of engaging in an activity that is as highly emotive and therapeutic as sport.

In moments of great crisis like this, when Harambee Stars haven’t played any match for a year, desperation grows to such high levels that it leaves little room for anything else except crisis management. And crisis management in this case means bringing back football.

Yes, bringing back local football is good and should be done quickly, but equally vital is to ensure the league doesn’t crash shortly after take-off.

One hopes that whoever runs this season’s leagues will tackle this immense challenge of funding so that the picture under Ruto becomes hopeful for once.