Abdulgafar Oladimeji: The Unknown Sports Tourist in Belgium
Had been fortunate since 2003 to have been globe trotting from one country to another, no thanks to my job as a sports journalist.
In my sojourn as a sports reporter had traverse through Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Morocco, Congo Brazville, Guinea, Mali, Niger republic, Burkina Faso, South Sudan, Egypt , USA, Senegal.
There was no need to be in a hurry to mention The Gambia, my adopted second home, where the rare privilege to work as freelance sport editor of the then Daily Express gave birth to my rosy career days and those career taunting memories that would linger all the days of my life.
It would be unforgiven to forget when sports journalism duties came calling, flying on Slok Air with The Scorpions of The Gambia to Guinea Conakry, to honour CAF Afcon qualifiers match against Syli Nationale in 2006, I still rollick those memories, then came January 2007, another assignment took me to Congo Brazzaville to cover the CAF U-20 championship, which was eventually won by the host country.
Morocco is not new on my memoirs , Egypt is now my new second home ground.
In Apil 2007, I underwent my evergreen baptism as a New Yorker , thanks to Poynter Media Institute in Florida , I was honoured with an invitation to the 2007 sports journalism summit , the time, indeed I had ensured was well spent attending Pen fellowship programmes at New York University. NYU.
In early 2026, visiting Europe was an appetite waiting to be wetted , on April 16, my mother had passed away, things had to be slowed down, after performing and paying the last respect to the soul that breath into me the fertility of life , next was to take days to plan my trip, off I then zoomed off to Belgium.
The journey aboard Ethiopian airline from Kano to Addis Ababa , on 28th May 2026, was somewhat boring without entertainment gradates on board the plane , luckily I had boarded with loads of documents requiring my attention, they served as an alternate company throughout the duration of the flight, as we were cruising at over 30,000 feet above sea levels through Chad and South Sudanese air spaces.
From our layover , we boarded an airbus from Addis Ababa to Cairo
We arrived Cairo safely , unusual , this time , the footballer Naim Abdulssalaam could not make it to the airport, I had to navigate my way to our new abode at Badr city at the expense of the exorbitant fares been offered by Cairo cab operators, that night am stripped bare at their mercy.
The 72 hours self tailored transit in Cairo was enjoyed to the maximum , I lazy and loitered about the city at my own pace , on 3rd June 2026, aboard an A Jet aircraft, we departed Cairo for Istanbul in Turkey, it was my first experience in Istanbul.
As a history student I have read about the revolutionary Ataturk, same with the Othman Empire, and here I am , life and direct , it is my first time in the land of that mix blend of pollical dynasty, food , religious and mystical riches .
Istanbul to Brussels was another little over three hours journey, at past 11am Belgian time , I was already on a metro cruising towards Noord Centrale heading to the city centre in Brussels.
What is it about metro in every big city in the world were I had visited , they had enviable clean, cheap and easy to access, metro or call it train services , why don’t or cant we have same in Nigeria, wake up guy Mr, Dr , Amb or comrade Abdulgafar, whatever you call yourself, welcome to Brussels the heart of Europe, enjoy your stay in Belgium and return back to your keke jumping and achaba mounting system back home okay, common wake up, an inner voice said to me.
I had completed the usual airport routine arrival procedures, for the first time I had arrived the European soil on the 3rd day of June, 2026 , another feather to my ajala travel cap .
I had completed the airport routine checks in couple of minutes, from the airport to the metro and to Noord Centrale, the sight was wonderful, the weather was sunny.
From Noord Centrale to my hotel, I walked past high rising buildings the clean streets, of Brussels , everyone minding their business, had arrived before mid day so the heart of Brussels was buzzling with life.
Belgium is the heart of Europe, that nearly everyone speaks good English endears the city to my heart, I had no reason not to enjoy my short visit.
The short trip on metro from Brussels to Antwerp, Chaleroi and Anderlecht was fascinating, that Luxembourg was just a stone throw had saved me the daily pains caused by those social media advertisements of non existing jobs opportunities that flow from the ceaseless advertisements on social media that has kept promoting was is not true and imaginary, Luxembourg we have been made to believe by travel agents is the new employment heaven, for those seeking greener pastures, well , believe those jobs adverts at your own risk, as the court pleases.
That Paris, Germany, Netherland all were reachable from Brussels gave birth to an Kwara born semi Ajala travel , wetting my curiosity , but would never have made me let my guards down as an unknown sports journalist in Brussels.
Grand Centrale was my captor, new couples, students, fun seekers from all over the world melt at this historic convergence point, the pubs, restaurants are opened early enough as visitors took turns to enjoy Brussels, Brussels is fun.
Saint Catherina church hosted the Unknown Sports tourist, King Bedouin stadium sure had covenant with me , atonmium was a must visit, the book stores on daily basis hosted me , window shopping around the city was part of my daily routines, the sports tourist from Kano, Nigeria felt belonged .
On one of these days, I ran into a cache of Police officers at Centrale garage, what is the matter, I queried a police officer, he maintained a stern gaze on some young men and women, who had assembled , next I heard bangs on steel pillars, the pregnant crowd respond to aluta cries from all crannies.
I quickly moved aside, and later got informed that the students were protesting the increase in school fees by the Belgian authorities for days cries of siren ravaged the city at intervals ,daily the students carefully swerved locations to express their dismay over the school fees hike.
I waited to hear if the police had shot anyone , nothing of such, that voice again said to me , go home to Nigeria brother Abdulgafar, where police and students would and will always have reason to clash and the casualties rate had always remained disturbing.
A shawarma shop owned by some gentlemen from Azerbaijan and a restaurant ran by Jordanian chef made sure I never went hungry, though, I dare not convert the price of the food to naira equivalent or I will decide to fast till I leave and the consequences may be costlier.
My new book, How to Win the World Cup authored by Chris Evans , now joins my collection of books, thank you Waterstones Brussels.
Getting loss was part of the show, the city of Brussels is honestly so easy to navigate, I never needed to ask questions to find my way back to my hotel room, the trekking distance was fun though the rain from no where could descend unannounced.
The sun smiles aways at about 10 pm there about , there and then, I started researching to know why, another assignment came ,when I ran into a shop with the sign board KANO .
I knew too well, I had a deal with the immigration laws to leave Belgium as promised, I hurriedly did some shoppings and had to pack my baggage and said good bye to my newly knitted Nigeria, Pakistani, Portugese, American and Italian friends , they now join my list of new friends. I miss the chance to say good bye to my new female friend from US, who was also on vacation in Brussels.
My newly acquired professional contacts, books, perfumes , clothing’s , I will continue to cherish, I paid less attention to sports talks and places of likely interest, very unusual of me, even when the Red Devils played host to Eagles of Tunisia in a pre world cup friendly match, I pretended as if nothing was happening, rather I was busy visiting places of interest, far away from my troubles back home, from this singular act of mine,I became the unknown sports tourist in Belgium.
