On the 24th of July, during my regular scrolling through various news publications, I came across a headline that immediately caught my attention and deeply unsettled me. It read: “Former Nigeria international Ngozi Okobi-Okeoghene has claimed many female footballers in the country are afraid to get married or start families because they fear it could end their international careers.” The headline compelled me to open the article and read further. As I delved into the story, I found myself deeply disturbed and increasingly curious about why Nigerian female footballers would fear that marriage or motherhood could cost them their careers. That curiosity led me to read extensively on the intersection of motherhood and football, particularly within the Nigerian context. As I analysed the state of Nigerian football in relation to motherhood, my research naturally extended to a comparative analysis of football systems in other jurisdictions. What I discovered was both revealing and disquieting. Beneath the surface of the game lies a deeply entrenched patriarchal culture that quietly shapes opportunities, career progression, and the lived experiences of female footballers. However, I must also acknowledge that my research revealed a more encouraging reality in some jurisdictions, particularly across parts of Europe, where football institutions have adopted more family-friendly and inclusive policies that better support married players and nursing mothers.
In the world of work, mothers are often confronted with multiple stereotypes. They are perceived as being less suited for leadership roles, considered less competent than their peers, paid less, and, in many cases, denied promotions and other opportunities for career advancement. If we pause for a moment to reflect on these stereotypes faced by women who choose to become mothers, we will realise that they are largely products of societal conditioning rather than objective realities. Over the years, there have been significant advancements in the way different sectors and industries operate. Yet, one factor has remained stubbornly resistant to change across many workplaces: unfair career development policies and practices driven by gendered norms and deeply rooted cultural stereotypes. Unfortunately, many workplaces continue to be structured around men’s experiences, valuing traditionally masculine attributes and reinforcing conventional notions of leadership. In doing so, they create systems that inadvertently—or, at times, deliberately—exclude mothers from progressing and thriving within these patriarchal environments. This reality is particularly evident across many African countries, including Nigeria, where numerous workplaces still lack adequate family-friendly policies. Paid maternity leave is often limited or non-existent, workplace support for nursing mothers remains inadequate, and many organisations fail to provide conducive environments that enable women to balance motherhood with their professional responsibilities. Some may argue that such policies are unnecessary. Others may ask, “Why should employers bear the burden of another person’s decision to have a child?” However, amid this ongoing debate about whether mothers belong in the home or the workplace, we must not lose sight of a more fundamental question: how does motherhood shape a woman’s career progression, access to leadership, and opportunity to contribute meaningfully to society? That question deserves not only critical examination but also empathy.
Considering the largely unquestioned expectation of uninterrupted career progression, it is unsurprising that mothers remain markedly underrepresented in leadership positions. At the heart of this disparity lies the motherhood penalty—the persistent assumption that mothers are less committed to their careers than their non-mother or male counterparts. This perception often translates into delayed promotions, exclusion from career-enhancing opportunities and leadership pathways, particularly in highly competitive fields such as sports, and the pressure to make difficult decisions that may ultimately undermine their professional growth in order to meet the needs of their children. More often than not, these outcomes are not a reflection of a mother’s competence or ambition. Rather, they stem from the absence of inclusive workplace policies, inadequate institutional support, limited support systems at home, or, in many cases, a combination of all three.
In the context of how motherhood impacts careers, female athletes are by no means excluded from this discussion. Indeed, many professional sportswomen find themselves standing at the intersection of two deeply significant aspirations: sport and motherhood. For many, choosing the path of motherhood can be a daunting decision, as it often carries the risk of altering the trajectory of their sporting careers. Instead of being celebrated as a natural stage of life, motherhood is too often perceived as a professional liability. This reality is particularly evident in Nigerian women’s football. Former Nigerian international Ngozi Okobi-Okeoghene has publicly stated that many female footballers in the country are afraid to get married or start families because they fear losing their place in the national team. Her remarks expose a troubling reality: many female athletes believe that embracing marriage or motherhood may come at the expense of their careers. This raises an important question: Should any woman have to fear losing her place in her profession simply because the system is unwilling to accommodate the realities of motherhood? No woman in sport should ever be forced to choose between pursuing her athletic career and experiencing the joy of motherhood because of institutions that fail to embrace the diverse realities of women’s lives.
The experiences of Nigerian footballer Agnes Ajibade further illustrate this concern. According to a 2021 report by The PUNCH, Ajibade, who featured for Lagos-based DreamStar Ladies in the 2019/2020 Nigeria Women’s Football League season, stepped away from football after giving birth. In a telephone interview reported by The PUNCH, she explained:
“Now that I’m married and given birth, I don’t think I want to continue my career in Nigeria. It’s not conducive and I need to give time to my child.”
The report further quoted her as saying:
“Most girls prefer to focus on their careers while young and think of motherhood later because no (football) club will sign you and want you to get pregnant.”
Her words paint a sobering picture of a football system in which pregnancy is perceived not as a temporary life event deserving support, but as a barrier to professional survival. One cannot help but wonder whether her experience would have been different had Nigerian football embraced comprehensive maternity-friendly policies.
The PUNCH report also quoted her as saying:
“When you get pregnant while playing for them (clubs), they will tell you your contract has ended.”
If this accurately reflects the experience of female footballers in Nigeria, then the greatest obstacle is not motherhood itself but a sporting system that has yet to evolve into one that supports women through every stage of their lives.
The exclusion of mothers from Nigerian football is not a recent phenomenon. As far back as 2002, Vera Okolo was dropped from the Nigeria U-20 women’s national team after football officials discovered that she had a daughter. She was reportedly asked to leave the Falconets camp simply because she was a mother. This raises a fundamental question: Who has the right to punish a woman for choosing motherhood? Ironically, Okolo went on to become one of Nigeria’s most accomplished female footballers. She represented the country at the FIFA Women’s World Cup and the Olympic Games, and was part of the Super Falcons squad that won the Women’s Africa Cup of Nations. Her remarkable career serves as a powerful reminder that motherhood does not diminish talent, commitment, or the ability to compete at the highest level.
Despite the unique realities that pregnancy and maternity present for female athletes, there remains a striking gap in research and policy within Nigerian women’s football. To date, there is little empirical research examining maternity policies, contractual protections, or the lived experiences of professional female footballers in Nigeria with respect to pregnancy and motherhood. This absence of evidence reflects a broader institutional neglect of an issue that directly affects women’s participation and career longevity in the sport. Although football governing bodies around the world are increasingly investing in and prioritising the development of the women’s game, stakeholders in Nigerian football must move beyond rhetoric and adopt comprehensive, athlete-centred maternity policies. Such policies should provide contractual protection, safeguard athletes from discrimination on the basis of pregnancy or motherhood, and create an enabling environment in which women are not forced to choose between representing their country and building a family.
Historically, pregnancy in Nigerian women’s football has often been accompanied by dropped contracts, pay cuts, or even forced retirement, largely because long-term contractual protections and maternity safeguards have been absent. Even today, few clubs provide professional maternity leave, structured return-to-play programmes tailored to postpartum recovery, or practical support such as travel accommodations for infants and caregivers. These institutional gaps reflect broader patriarchal norms that continue to place the primary responsibility for domestic and childcare duties on women, often at the expense of their professional aspirations. Compounding these challenges is the persistent myth that elite athletic performance and motherhood are incompatible. This bias wrongly assumes that a woman cannot excel as both an athlete and a mother, forcing many female footballers to delay motherhood or prematurely end their careers before reaching their athletic peak.
The composition of sports governance further exacerbates this problem. Leadership and decision-making bodies within Nigerian football remain overwhelmingly male. When women are underrepresented in sports governance, the lived experiences of female athletes—including pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum recovery—are less likely to be reflected in the policies that shape the game. Inclusive governance is therefore not merely a question of representation; it is essential to developing policies that protect and empower female athletes.
Penalizing women for choosing to be mothers can be likened to punishing a human for simply being human. Female footballers should never have to choose between pursuing excellence on the pitch and embracing motherhood when both aspirations can coexist. Their male counterparts are generally free to become fathers without fear that parenthood will jeopardise their careers, but I will classify it a double standard in Nigerian football, if the industry doesn’t tilt towards making policies that are friendly to female footballers who also choose to walk the beautiful path of parenthood.
Motherhood has come to stay, and the world must not only adjust to this reality, but also create a healthy space for mothers to thrive without any form of hindrance. Motherhood is an enduring reality of human existence. Rather than expecting women to conform to systems that ignore their lived experiences, our sporting institutions must evolve to accommodate them. Nigerian football must adopt comprehensive maternity protections, enforce anti-discrimination measures, provide appropriate medical and welfare support, and ensure that female athletes can thrive both as elite professionals and as mothers. Only then can the sport truly claim to champion equality, inclusion, and human dignity.
No woman should ever have to apologise for choosing motherhood. I am unapologetically pro-motherhood. I stand with mothers in sport, and I stand with mothers around the world whose careers should never be diminished because they chose to build a family.
I therefore call on policymakers, football administrators, sports governing bodies, clubs, and all relevant stakeholders to champion the adoption, implementation, and enforcement of comprehensive maternity protection policies across Nigerian sport. Motherhood should never be treated as a professional disadvantage. Instead, it should be recognised as a natural and valuable part of life—one that deserves protection, dignity, and institutional support.
A truly inclusive sporting system is not one that forces women to choose between their dreams and their families; it is one that empowers them to pursue both with equal confidence and opportunity.
About the Author
Emmanuella Chisom Ononenyi is a Lawyer and Policy Analyst with a research and advocacy focus on women’s leadership, public policy, governance, and social development. She writes on law, gender equality, and inclusive policymaking, with a particular interest in advancing institutional reforms that promote the rights and opportunities of women and girls. She can be reached at info@emmanuellaononenyi.com.
