Football Dream Deferred: Adu’s Struggle Continues

Every week, the scene is the same.Twelve-year-old Adu ties the laces of his football boots, steps onto the pitch, and trains like any other child. He runs, passes, shoots, and moves seamlessly as a team player. Yet, come Sunday, everything changes.

On match days, Adu is forbidden from playing. He sits in the stands, watching his teammates compete while he is left on the sidelines. The experience has become so painful that he now often stays home instead of attending matches.

Adu, who arrived from Cameroon, plays—or rather, tries to play—for a small football club in northern Tenerife, part of Spain’s Canary Islands. He trains diligently but is barred from official matches. He has been living with his foster parents, Ana and Eduardo, for nearly two years. According to them, football is an inseparable part of Adu’s life.

After school, he searches for a ball. Even with only ten minutes to spare, he will play. If he cannot, he watches football videos. During school breaks, he finds moments to practise. But weekends, when official matches are held, are particularly hard.

Initially, Adu attended matches to watch his peers, but gradually he stopped going. His foster parents told EFE, “He trains all the time but cannot play on match days. Now he prefers to stay home and find out the result later.”

This situation is unusual for his teammates as well. They see Adu in training but not during matches. Coaches and fellow players repeatedly ask, “Has your registration gone through?” Yet, no one seems to know the answer.

The cause lies in FIFA’s rules. Article 19 of the “Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players” prohibits international transfers for players under 18.

The rule aims to prevent exploitation. Historically, European clubs recruited young children from Africa and South America; those who failed to succeed were abandoned, often on the streets—a practice criticised as human trafficking.

Adu and many others crossed seas in small boats, locally called “kayakos,” not to play football but to survive. Yet, once in Spain, even playing at a local club triggers the same international transfer restrictions, creating a complex administrative process.

Exhausted by delays, Adu wrote to FIFA himself: “I am a 12-year-old African boy. I have lived with my foster family for two years. I love football and never miss training, but because I am from another country, I cannot play.”

Despite submitting all documents, FIFA regulations repeatedly create new barriers. In three years, Adu has played only three friendly matches but attended roughly 250 training sessions.

Currently, only political asylum status can allow such children to play officially, yet many, like Adu, do not have recognised refugee status, creating further complications. Many other African children in the Canary Islands face the same problem.

To Adu, football is more than a game; it is a source of comfort and stability amid the challenges of migration and a new life. His foster parents hope for the day he can step onto the pitch officially—a day that, for them, will be a celebration regardless of the result.