A FITTING HONOUR: SUPER FALCONS AND THE REVIVAL OF MERIT IN NATIONAL AWARDS
By: Fr. Dr. Okhueleigbe Osemhantie Æmos
In a powerful statement that transcends the football pitch and speaks directly to the soul of a nation, the President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria conferred the prestigious title of Officer of the Order of the Niger (OON) on all members of the Super Falcons. This rare gesture—bestowed in the aftermath of their valiant and inspiring performance at the 2024 Women’s Africa Cup of Nations (WAFCON) and other global engagements—rekindles a long-lost vision of what national honours were originally designed to uphold: merit, national pride, and service to humanity.
Understanding the OON: A Brief History
The Order of the Niger, established in 1964, is part of Nigeria’s National Honours Act designed to recognize and celebrate outstanding Nigerians who have rendered exceptional service in the interest of the nation. It is Nigeria’s second-highest civilian national honour, coming only after the Order of the Federal Republic (OFR). The OON, in particular, has often been conferred on individuals in public service, science and technology, diplomacy, literature, academia, the creative industry, and sports—each of whom, through excellence and integrity, has advanced Nigeria’s standing on the global stage.
What sets the OON apart is its insistence—at least by original design—on substantial and verifiable impact. It is not an honour meant for ceremonial cronies or political appeasement. It is reserved for those who, often under pressure and against the odds, have pushed the boundaries of national greatness. The Super Falcons fit this description with uncanny precision.
Sports and National Honours: A Global Tradition
Bestowing state honours on athletes is neither novel nor peculiar to Nigeria. In France, after winning the 2018 FIFA World Cup, the entire French national football team received the Chevalier de la Légion d’honneur, the country’s highest civilian honour, from President Emmanuel Macron. In Brazil, football legends like Pelé and Marta Vieira da Silva have been honoured with national orders, not merely for scoring goals, but for becoming global icons of Brazilian excellence.
In the United Kingdom, several sports figures, including Mo Farah, Andy Murray, and Kelly Holmes, have received Knighthoods and Damehoods under the Order of the British Empire (OBE, MBE, CBE), for their contribution to sports and their inspirational roles in national identity.
Even beyond sports, youthful excellence has received national commendation globally. Malala Yousafzai, before winning the Nobel Peace Prize, was conferred Pakistan’s National Youth Peace Prize for her advocacy in education, and Greta Thunberg was honoured by Sweden and other international bodies for her climate change activism. These recognitions echo a universal message: when young people lift the image of a nation, the nation must, in turn, lift them.
Why the Super Falcons Deserve the OON
For decades, the Super Falcons have not only dominated the African women’s football scene but have also consistently put Nigeria on the map in global tournaments. Their discipline, patriotism, and excellence have continued to defy infrastructural challenges, funding limitations, and gender bias.
In the 2023 FIFA Women’s World Cup, the Super Falcons were unbeaten in the group stage, drawing against Olympic champions Canada, defeating co-hosts Australia in front of a hostile home crowd, and bowing out only in a dramatic penalty shootout against England. These performances earned them a boost in the FIFA world rankings.
As of March 6, 2025, FIFA confirmed that the Super Falcons remain Africa’s highest-ranked women’s national team. Nigeria has maintained this continental lead since 2003, and despite global competition and inconsistent support structures at home, they have remained the continent’s most consistent women’s football power.
The statistics speak volumes: Nigeria has won 10 of 13 Women’s Africa Cup of Nations (WAFCON) tournaments, never losing a final. No team—male or female—on the African continent boasts this level of dominance. Globally, no women’s team has won ten continental titles with such consistency, especially under adverse conditions, including playing and triumphing on opponents’ soil.
What’s more, the Super Falcons have not only excelled collectively but also individually. Nigerian women have clinched the CAF Women’s Footballer of the Year title 13 times, more than any other country in Africa. From Mercy Akide in 2001 to Asisat Oshoala, who has won the award a record six times, the Falcons have become the standard-bearers of African football excellence. Legends like Perpetua Nkwocha, Cynthia Uwak, and now Oshoala have all been crowned queens of African football, underlining Nigeria’s sustained influence and pedigree in the women’s game. For comparison, South Africa and Ghana have only produced two winners each, while Cameroon, Equatorial Guinea, and Zambia have one apiece.
This isn’t dominance. It’s dynastic.
To decorate them with the OON is not a favour. It is a fulfillment of justice. It is an acknowledgment that greatness—especially when it rises from neglected soil—must be recognized, not with lip service but with lasting honour.
Redefining Merit in National Recognition
In recent decades, the essence of Nigeria’s national honours has been diluted. What was meant to honour sacrifice and celebrate excellence often became the reward of political loyalty, patronage, and ethnic appeasement. The result? A proliferation of honours that failed to inspire, and an erosion of public trust in the integrity of our national awards system.
This is why the conferment of the OON on the Super Falcons is more than symbolic. It is corrective. It signals a welcome return to meritocracy, a reminder that national honours must not be about “who you know,” but about “what you’ve done.” It tells our children that Nigeria watches, and that excellence, wherever it sprouts—whether in football boots or laboratory coats—will not go unrewarded.
Honours such as these must now be protected. The OON must remain the preserve of those who elevate the Nigerian spirit—scientists breaking boundaries, authors shaping minds, teachers in rural classrooms sowing futures, military men defending borders, artists exporting culture, and yes, women athletes breaking stereotypes with each kick of the ball.
A Challenge and a Call
Let this conferment be the rule, not the exception. Let it inspire the next girl in Uzea or Ado-Ekiti who dreams of football, the boy in Sokoto who trains barefoot in the sand, the youth in Ebonyi who builds robots from scrap. Let this be a national reawakening—that our medals and honours will no longer be sold to the highest bidder but earned by those whose only currency is sweat, sacrifice, and service.
While all these praises are being sung, the grandeur of this national reception stirs a deeper reflection. If we truly possess the goodwill, resources, and organisational machinery to honour excellence—as is now brilliantly shown—why do we allow our hospitals to collapse under strikes, leaving patients gasping for help in empty wards? Why do we force our retired police officers to stage humiliating street protests just to access pensions they earned in blood and sweat? Why do we deprive our wounded soldiers—the very shields of our sovereignty—of adequate rehabilitation and welfare? Why do we compel our educators, the silent architects of the nation’s destiny, to abandon classrooms in frustration? Why do we look away when university graduates roam aimlessly, unable to find jobs or capital to start afresh? Why do public servants work for months without pay, and why do youths with talent in the arts, sciences, or skilled trades rot in idleness because there are no grants, no spaces, no plans for them?
These are not luxury issues; they are questions of moral obligation and social dignity. If unattended, our current enthusiasm—however noble—risks being misconstrued as performative, an elegant pageantry masking an ailing conscience. A nation that rewards footballers must also reward teachers. A country that decorates athletes must also protect doctors, farmers, artisans, and civil servants. Otherwise, honour becomes hollow. And celebration, a distraction.
As Scripture reminds us, “the labourer deserves his wages” (Luke 10:7). This is not merely a biblical echo; it is a moral injunction. Rewarding merit is not generosity—it is justice.
🖋️ Fr. Dr. Osemhantie Amos Okhueleigbe is a Catholic Priest of Uromi Diocese and a Lecturer at CIWA, Port Harcourt, Nigeria
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