Chipolopolo: A bitter bullet to bite.

On Monday night, I watched Morocco dismantle my…OUR beloved Chipolopolo 3-0, and instead of blaming the referee like a normal person, I had an existential breakdown on my couch.

I watched something disturbingly familiar unfold. After getting pummelled like nshima at matebeto, our boys scrambled for Hakimi’s jersey with the same enthusiasm they should’ve brought to marking him.

When Brahim Díaz danced through our box like it was a wedding reception with a strict matron, our defenders stood. Hesitant. Reactive. Hoping someone else will make the tackle – not from a lack of tactical awareness, but from that peculiar Zambian politeness we mistake for wisdom.

At this point, my close friend’s whisper hit harder than any Moroccan striker: “This is us, my n***a. This is exactly who we are as Zambians.”

Consider the average Zambian man’s approach to life. Three months ago, your boss dangled a promotion. Your response? “Next time, boss, I am not ready.” Classic. Meanwhile, “Next time” is the Zambian national motto, right after “Kaya” and “God willing” (which we use when we mean “probably never”).

“Let me not be too forward.” That business idea? “Maybe when the economy improves”. That conversation with your wife about your crumbling marriage? “Let’s not fight. Peace is important”.

That side hustle while you’re still young and energetic? “Ahh, kaya, maybe mailo”.

We’ve perfected the art of the strategic retreat, convinced ourselves that avoiding confrontation is maturity. But when did backing down become our default setting? When did “Next time” become our national motto, chanted more religiously than the anthem?

Here’s the brutal truth the scoreline whispered: while you’re busy being “humble” and “not too ambitious,” younger legs are warming up on the sideline. 

That junior colleague who actually fights for visibility? He’ll be your boss. That age-mate who risked discomfort for his dream? He’s already three goals ahead.

The flood lights are on you right now-in your career, your marriage, your financial goals, your health. 

Morocco taught us that politeness doesn’t win matches. Neither does it build wealth, save marriages or achieve dreams.

The beautiful game mirrors life: sometimes you must be uncomfortable, aggressive, even a little audacious. Especially when facing the giants. 

The question is: Will you tackle them or ask for a photo?

Choose wisely because the substitute is already stretching.

Kick-off is now.