By Paul Lucky Okoku
“When the joy of football meets the sorrow of loss, communities remind us what truly matters.”
Just days before the Africa Cup of Nations (AFCON) 2025 gets underway, Morocco is grappling with a tragedy that has shaken one of its host cities to the core. In the historic Al-Mustaqbal neighborhood of Fez, two adjacent four-story buildings collapsed overnight on December 9–10, 2025, killing at least 22 people and injuring 16 others. One of the buildings was hosting an Aqiqah celebration, a moment meant to mark new life, when the structure gave way in the quiet hours of the night. Four children were among the dead. Search and rescue teams worked relentlessly in the aftermath, while authorities opened an investigation to determine what went wrong.
For the people of Fez — a city known for its ancient medina, vibrant souks, and deep cultural heritage — this is not just a news item or a passing headline. It is a community in mourning, struggling to reconcile unbearable loss with what should have been a period of anticipation and continental unity. As AFCON approaches, Fez finds itself balancing grief with preparation, sorrow with responsibility, and remembrance with the reality that thousands of football fans, teams, and media are about to arrive.
Fez is not on the margins of this tournament. It is one of the official AFCON host cities, with matches scheduled at the Complexe Sportif de Fès, including group-stage fixtures and at least one Round of 16 match. This means the tragedy is unfolding not in isolation, but in a city that will soon welcome Africa. Players, supporters, and officials arriving in Fez will step into a community still processing shock and loss. It is a reminder that the heartbeat of a host city is not its stadiums or transport routes, but the people whose lives give it meaning.
Morocco’s AFCON footprint stretches across the country — from Tangier in the north to Agadir in the south. Fez lies roughly 200–230 kilometers from Rabat, 240–320 kilometers from Casablanca, and nearly 390 kilometers from Marrakech. These distances may seem modest on a map, but when tragedy strikes, they can feel immense. Football can bridge geography, but grief often travels faster and deeper, binding communities together in shared sorrow.
That closeness between Fez and Rabat stirs something personal for me.
Morocco is not just a host nation in my memory; it is part of my football journey. In August 1983, I had the privilege of representing Nigeria in Rabat during the qualification campaign for the 1984 African Cup of Nations. I was part of a group that included Chibuzor Ehilegbu and the late Isa Shofoluwe, brought in from the Flying Eagles to join the Super Eagles under Coach Adegboyega Onigbinde. We trained together at the Bembo Games Village in Ibadan, shared sessions with senior internationals, and traveled through Lagos and Madrid before arriving in Rabat for what would become a defining, pressure-filled encounter.
Two weeks earlier, we had played a goalless draw in Benin City. The return leg in Morocco meant playing away, in hostile territory, with everything at stake. These are the moments that shape footballers — moments rarely captured fully in mainstream narratives, yet deeply etched into memory. I will tell that story in full another time.
For now, it exists here only as context — not celebration — because today is not about goals scored or matches won.
Today is about Fez.
It is about families mourning loved ones. It is about parents grieving children who never had the chance to grow, dream, or discover who they might have become. It is about a city preparing to host Africa while carrying a weight no community should have to bear.
Football remains one of Africa’s most powerful unifiers. From Ghana to Guinea-Bissau, Nigeria, South Africa to Sudan, millions will gather around this tournament with pride and passion. But in Fez, that passion is tempered by loss. Teams that play there will encounter not just a venue, but a living community still healing. Supporters will cheer, but many will also pause, reflect, and remember.
The coming days of AFCON will not only test teams on the pitch. They will test our capacity for compassion, solidarity, and humanity. The true measure of African football is not only in trophies lifted, but in how we honor life, stand with grieving communities, and remember that behind every celebration lies a shared responsibility to one another.
My thoughts and prayers are with all those affected.
May the souls of the departed rest in perfect peace.
In Fez, football and community walk together — even in moments of sorrow.
By Paul Lucky Okoku,
Former Super Eagles International,
Vice-Captain, Flying Eagles Class of 1983
