Forty years ago, on a modest school playground in Nigeria’s largest city Lagos, a new indigenous sport was quietly born. Today, its growing community of players and backers are convinced this homegrown game has what it takes to capture international attention and carve out a space on global sporting rosters.
Known as Abula, the fast-paced four-versus-four court sport takes its name from a beloved traditional dish of Nigeria’s Yoruba people. It was created back in 1984 by Elias Yusuf, a former physical education teacher who drew direct inspiration from the iconic meal to shape his game.
“Abula combines four classes of food in one meal. This game is a conjunction of four by four,” Yusuf explained in an interview with BBC Sport Africa, tying the sport’s structure directly to its cultural namesake. The traditional Abula dish typically features yam flour paired with assorted beef, jute leaf vegetable soup, peeled bean gbegiri soup, and a tangy tomato-pepper stew – a combination of four core components that translated directly to the sport’s 4v4 format.
Yusuf’s motivation for creating the game was straightforward: he wanted a new activity that would keep his students engaged, balancing fun with physical and mental challenge. The very first match, held in February 1984, pitted four teachers against four students – and the students claimed victory, setting a dynamic tone for a sport that would come to be defined by its blend of speed, technical skill, and strategic thinking.
Played on a hard 16-meter by 8-meter rectangular court, divided by a central net set 2.44 meters above the ground, Abula shares some surface similarities with both volleyball and tennis. Unlike volleyball, however, players do not use their hands to hit the ball: instead, they wield a custom rectangular bat, crafted from wood and textured rubber and weighing between 500 and 750 grams, to strike a standard tennis ball over the net.
The rules of the game are straightforward but demand sharp reflexes and tight teamwork. After a serve, each team is allowed just three touches of the ball on their side of the court before returning it to opponents. Rallies continue until one side fails to return the ball, earning the opposing team a point. Teams rotate serving, with each side getting four consecutive serves per turn, and points can be won by both serving and receiving teams. The first side to reach 16 points wins a set, though a 15-all tie requires a team to reach 20 points to claim victory. Matches are decided by best-of-three or best-of-five sets, depending on competition rules, and each side can make up to four substitutions, permitted twice per set.
Unlike many mainstream court sports, Abula places heavy demands on both physical mobility and cognitive speed. Players must constantly anticipate opponent moves, reposition themselves in an instant, and make split-second decisions on how to return the ball. “When it comes to Abula, you have to be very smart,” said Sylvester Ike, captain of the Bayelsa State team that competed at May’s Nigerian National Sports Festival. “You have to be a very quick thinker and have to be mobile. It’s a very cognitive sport.”
From its humble playground origins, Abula has gradually built a foothold in Nigerian sports. It has been an official event at the country’s biennial National Sports Festival since 1998, and is regularly played at military camps and school competitions across parts of the nation. Just a decade after its invention, the sport earned official recognition from the International Olympic Committee’s Sport for All programme, as well as support from the Nigeria Olympic Committee – a milestone that remains a source of pride for its pioneers and fueled efforts to expand the game across West Africa’s most populous nation. Even with that early win, Abula has yet to earn a spot at the African Games, a key stepping stone for regional sports.
Like many emerging indigenous sports, Abula faces significant growing pains: limited public funding, a lack of purpose-built infrastructure, and minimal mainstream media exposure have slowed its growth. Purpose-built Abula courts are rare across the country, most players rely on improvised equipment, and organized competitions are held infrequently. “For now, there is no budgeting provision for this sport,” said Olomo Agbadabina, president of the Nigeria Traditional Sports Federation, which oversees the development of indigenous games including Abula, Dambe, Langa, Ayo and Kokowa. “But with the coming on board of the present National Sports Commission, we have been assured that funding will not be a problem.”
Abula’s advocates frame these barriers not as dead ends, but as opportunities for growth. With targeted sponsorship and structured national promotion, they argue, the sport can expand rapidly, first across Nigeria, then into neighboring African countries, and eventually onto the global sporting circuit. “If we are properly sponsored, we can invite other African countries to play this game,” Agbadabina said. “It can be introduced first to the African Games, then to the Commonwealth Games and the ultimate one – the Olympics.”
That is an undeniably ambitious goal, but backers point to volleyball as a successful precedent: the globally popular sport also began as a local pastime before making the leap to international competition.
For its founders and long-time supporters, Abula is more than just a game – it is a uniquely Nigerian innovation rooted in local culture. In an era where sports fans around the world are increasingly seeking new athletic experiences and fresh narratives, Abula offers a one-of-a-kind product: a fast, tactical court game that is easy to learn but difficult to master.
Daudu Ajayi, a 70-plus-year-old veteran match official for the sport, says Abula’s unique blend of accessibility, fitness benefit and cultural identity gives it broad global appeal. “Abula is very good for the body. If you play Abula, you look young,” he said. “If you see me now, you think I’m under 50. Whereas I’m over 70.”
That combination of physical activity and enjoyment has helped Abula maintain a loyal local following over four decades, particularly in school and community tournaments. Though it remains rooted in Nigeria today, its players, officials and pioneers are convinced the sport is ready to reach a global audience.
“I would say Abula has now got into its peak because we now have vibrant young men like me playing,” Bayelsa captain Ike said. “Abula has everything to be in the international level.”
If Abula’s supporters succeed in their push for growth and recognition, the game that began with a group of students beating their teachers on a Lagos school yard could one day take the stage at the world’s biggest international sporting events.
